It is rainy as Axel, Hailey, and I pulled up in front of the ramshackle-looking building, where my half-brother's parole officer informed us that he lived. I cut off the engine, staring through the passenger window beside where Axel is seated, feeling the lump forming in my throat as I consider for the millionth time what is behind the door. I startle a little then as Axel automatically reaches out and clasps m hand, forcing a smile to my lips, allowing him to know that, despite him catching me unawares, I was thankful for the comfort.

"You nervous?"

It is a stupid question, a fact that he quickly realizes when I make a face at him. "Of course," I told him then, trying to keep my voice in check so as Hailey wouldn't become upset. "I mean, Pops told me about Yevgeny for years, and about how things went down there. The notion that I wouldn't allow myself to even consider him with another child..."

"No matter what happens today, Iana, you've got to understand that Yevgeny will never replace what your pops feels for you," Axel tells me patiently, gently dragging his thumb over my knuckles. "Trust me on this."

I nodded, fearing to say much else. "Let's go," I said, forcing the words from my mouth then as I get out of the car, quickly opening the back seat door and unstrapping Hailey from her car seat, planting a kiss on her forehead. "It's all right," I assure her, the rain having turned into a mist as I lock the doors, watching as Axel, having already exited the vehicle, is waiting on the rain-slicked sidewalk for me.

I cross over to him, keeping a good grip on my daughter as Axel opens the rust-covered gate, which squeals appalling, causing Hailey to cry out and pull herself closer to me as Axel and me climb up the splintered stairs. I reach out my hand then, not wanting any courage to be stripped away from me then as I knock on the door, knowing that my heart is beating out of control and that I've got to get a grip. I know that my daughter can sense my anxiety, and she squirms ever so slightly in my arms because of it, but I cannot keep my heart rate down, especially when I hear footsteps on the other side of the door. When it squeaks open, and my brother's blue eyes, Pops's eyes, meet mine for the first time, I know there is no mistake. From his dark brown hair to his blue eyes, I know who he is.

"Yevgeny Milkovich?" I ask, my voice shaking slightly.

My half-brother crosses his arms then; he is wearing a skin-tight tank top, which showcases his muscled arms, which are tattooed, and I don't want to ask if he got those in prison or not. He pulls a cigarette out from between his lips, and I draw back instinctively, covering Hailey's face just in case he decides to blast us with smoke upon the time he decided to exhale. Considerately, however, he blew it out the side of his lips, back into the place he called home, as he looked me up and down with our father's eyes.

"Who wants to know?"

"I do," I replied, fixing him with a look.

"Yeah?" he asked, scrutinizing me and Hailey for a moment, a faint hint of recognition flashing through his eyes before they met mine again. "Who are you?"

"I'm Iana, Iana Milkovich," I replied, trying to keep my voice from shaking. "I'm your sister. We have the same father," I said, despite knowing that he could know that based on our surnames. "I had to find you..."

He swallowed then, a lump forming in his throat. "You didn't," he said, dropping his cigarette down and smashing it with his booted foot. "You wasted your time coming here. I don't have anything to give," he went on, and moved to shut the door.

I was about to cry out then, to call him back, to do something, but I was suddenly cut off by shock, directly associated with Axel. The movement was quick, and one that Yevgeny and me certainly didn't expect from my boyfriend, considering that he'd been unmoving beside me the entire time. However, significant others can surprise you, and, in this moment, I was as surprised as I'd ever been by Axel.

"Hey, man, this isn't up for negotiation," Axel said, jamming his foot in the door to prevent Yevgeny from closing it completely, which caused my brother to open it fully again. "Iana has spent the last month looking for you, not because she wanted to, but because she had to. She wants you in her life, and her daughter's life."

"This is Hailey," I said quietly then, stepping forward slightly, marveling my daughter's intelligence then as she turned to regard Yevgeny then, and even he melted slightly as she stared up at him. "This is your niece. I named her after our father," I tell him, and his eyes raised back upwards to me. "Mikhaila Nichole Milkovich is her name."

Yevgeny sighs then. "Okay," he says after a moment, and stands back, leaving some space between the door and him. "Come on in, I guess."

. . .

I set Hailey down into her crib for an afternoon nap after returning from the grocery store; I switch on the baby monitor and hold it against me, slipping out of my bedroom and making my way down the stairs. I cross over and into the kitchen, setting the baby monitor down onto the counter and set to work with unpacking the groceries and wondering what I should make for dinner that night. I nibble at my bottom lip, knowing that it is just after two now, so the boys should be home in an hour, while Carla and Charlie will return in an hour and a half or so. I finish unpacking the groceries then, leaning up against the counter, knowing that I needed to do one more thing, but unsure of what the outcome would be.

I turn around, facing the baby monitor then, and feeling the smile automatically forming on my lips as I see Hailey sleeping. I pick up my phone next, unlocking it and pressing the number two button, before placing it against my ear and listening to the rings. "Pops," I manage to get out when he answers the phone.

"Hey, kiddo, just got in," he says, and I can hear the sound of grocery bags hitting the counter of the kitchen. "What's up?"

"You busy?"

"Not really," he replies. "Just gotta put this food away... Everything okay?"

I sighed, not really knowing the answer to that question, but also knowing that I needed to talk to him about this. "Can you just come over when you're done, please?"

"Sure, kid, whatever you want," he replies. "I'll be over in ten, okay?"

"Fine," I reply, and cut the call immediately, setting my phone back onto the counter. I walk from the kitchen and into the living room, methodically picking up the baby monitor as I go, and perch on the couch. Staring through the window at the house across the street, I realize that I have no idea how Pops will potentially react to the information that I'd tracked down his son, my half-brother, with Axel's help, and maybe, just maybe, he'd be upset about it.

I suddenly lurch to my feet when I hear him pounding on the door, and put the baby monitor down onto the coffee table and cross over to the door. I open it quickly then, standing back so that he can enter the house, avoiding eye contact, but I know that he can read my body language like a book. It barely takes a moment for him to shut the door behind him, and to yank me into his arms.

"Look, kid, I know something's up," he tells me, his arms wound tightly around me. "I need you to tell me what it is."

I pull back from him then; I needed to see his face when I told him this. "Cara, my attorney from the trial when I beat up Colin, left me something," I replied. "She left me a letter, and Axel gave it to me..."

"Okay?" Pops replies, searching my face. "What happened? It upset you?"

I shook my head. "No," I tell him. "No, it... It contained some information she found when she was looking into our family, to find a common link as to why I may have snapped that night. I mean, this was before the final diagnosis..."

"Makes sense," Pops says, crossing his arms. "She tell you what she found?"

I nodded. "Yeah. I told her I didn't want to know about it..."

"But you changed your mind?"

I nodded again. "Yeah," I said, raising my eyes to his. "I changed my mind, and I need you to listen before you run off."

Pops looked confused. "Why would I run off?"

"Because I found Yevgeny," I replied, and Pops's eyes widened at my words then. "Axel got the paperwork associated with him from Cara's files, information that I previously didn't want, and told me some of it over the phone. I know where he is; not the exact address or anything, but I know the area where he lives..."

Pops dragged his hand down his face then, and I knew he was struggling to consider an appropriate reply. "Where is he?"

"Riverdale," I said quietly.

"Fuck," Pops whispered, shaking his head. "Svetlana married a fucking millionaire, so why in the hell is our son...?!" He sighed, blowing the breath out, in an attempt to calm himself down, but it wasn't doing any good. "She thinks she can just work her way up from being a fucking hand whore from the ghetto and wanting our kid so bad and now she's..."

"Pops!" I cry out then, putting my hands onto his shoulders and holding him there, doing my best to steady him. "Breathe. You've gotta breathe..."

His eyes locked with mine then, managing to lose their madness and becoming clear again. "I don't know what to say here, Iana..."

I nodded, gently lowering my hands from his shoulders. "I think you said what you wanted to say, and that's fine," I assured him, one ear trained onto the baby monitor, and relieved when Hailey didn't cry out for me. "I know you're scared, Pops, but, I promise, I'll keep you as in the loop or out of it as you want. I won't force anything on you, I swear."

Pops swallowed for a moment, struggling to comprehend the situation. "What else do you know about him?"

"Pops, I really don't..."

"Please," he said then, his eyes locking with mine again. "I'm asking you to tell me, Iana, and I want a straight answer. Please."

"He did at least one stint in juvie," I replied.

"Shit," Pops replied.

"And he's a heroin addict," I said quietly.

Pops looked up at me. "Heroin?"

I nodded; the movement was so jerky that it sent sparks of pain through my neck. "Yeah," I confirmed, feeling dirty for passing judgement on a stranger like that. "His parole officer says he's clean but..." I shrugged.

Pops looked away from me then. "I've been a hell of a father..."

"Pops?"

"Showering love and attention on you and letting my son be fucking neglected and forgotten about... It's wrong," he said softly.

"Pops, you had no way of knowing where he was," I said, quick to defend him. "And besides, I know you hate the law. One false move and the life you've built for yourself and Uncle Ian could've been taken away. We're Milkovich's," I said then, and his eyes locked onto mine once again. "We evade the law until we're caught, and we're slippery sons of bitches."

Pops shook his head. "It's so excuse," he replied. "He's my son. I should've been there for him from the minute your mom got me out of jail for good. I should've at least looked for him, but I didn't... I was so prepared to just be here with all of you that I didn't..."

"Pops, it's fine..."

"No, it's fucking not!" he shouted, and I took a step back from him; I'd seen him mad before, of course, but never had he yelled at me with such ferocity before. "I should've been there for the both of you, but I was only there for you! I should've banged on all the fucking doors I could, trying to find him! Sure, he may be the son of the fucking woman I was forced to marry but I've got it good now, so I should've made sure he was good! I was selfish, staying here and just lying low, waiting for the inevitable, but I'm so fucking done!"

I was about to speak again when a scream erupted from the baby monitor. Without even a backward glance, I charged up the stairs, throwing open my bedroom door and rushing to the side of Hailey's crib. Bending down, I took her into my arms, swaying slightly and pressing my lips to her forehead. "You're all right," I assured her, keeping calm. "It's all right. You don't need to be frightened," I kept telling her.

"Is she all right?"

I turned and looked at Pops then, standing in my doorway, and I swallowed, shuffling from one foot to the other. "She's fine."

He sighed. "Look, Iana, I know that it's not your fault to be curious..."

"I am curious," I told him, my voice firm. "But you fucking scared the shit out of me down there, Pops, and I can't have that. If I'm anxious or upset, Hailey becomes anxious or upset. I can't be the best mom I can be if I'm anxious or upset. I can't let my daughter be anxious or upset, because it's not good for her," I went on, willing for my voice not to tremble as I told him this, and was surprised at how humbled he looked. "I understand that you're hurting, because I did kind of spring this on you, and I'm sorry, but you've got to understand that, in families, we have to be honest with one another. I literally just found out the information an hour ago, and you're the first one I told about it, because you mean a lot to me. It's not something I could've done over the phone, as you can probably understand," I continued, shifting my weight from one foot to the other, "but I needed to tell you. Can't you see that?"

He nodded. "I can see that," he replied, a sigh escaping from between his lips. "I hope Hailey's going to be okay," he tossed over his shoulder as he crept out of the room, down the stairs, and outside the house.

. . .

The office of Maurice Sanderson is stuffy; he obviously fired his maid, given the notion that his filing system is a piece of crap. I'd bet that the battered-looking file cabinets, four in total, he has behind his desk are disorganized and not full, due to the fact that enough file folders to count the residents of the Cook County Department of Corrections alone are on top of them, or placed in a precarious fashion on his desk. I turn and look at Axel briefly; he'd taken up Maurice's invitation for a cup of coffee, while I declined; I'd never liked the beverage, first of all, and second, I knew that Hailey was more prone not to take my milk if I drank it.

Maurice bustled back into the room a moment later, handing Axel a steaming paper cup of coffee, while his was in a proper mug. Maurice was a balding, portly man who I judged to be in his late fifties or early sixties; he had a massive beer belly, and his white, button-down shirt was strained along it, while his horribly-patterned wool tie barely met the midline. His suit, a green plaid, matched the tie perfectly, and he lifted up the bottom edge of his jacket with his one free hand left available to him as he sat at his desk, opposite Axel and me, and just stared at him for a moment, his gray eyes an unimaginative hue, although they did radiate a combination of intelligence and exhaustion, while his meaty face sported rather thick layers of dark circles and skin beneath them.

"You're here about Yevgeny Milkovich, then?" he asked.

Axel nodded. "That's right. My sister informed us that you've done her favors in the past, and she figured one more wouldn't hurt."

Maurice's pale brown brows, flecked sporadically with silver, knit together as he tried to figure out the familial connection that Axel claimed to possess. "Your sister...?"

"Half-sister, really," Axel explained. "Cara Hastings."

"Oh, yeah," Maurice said, nodding his head. "Real nice girl. I'm sorry for your loss," he said in a sympathetic manner to Axel. "Her last case was really her legacy..."

"That was my case," I said softly, and Maurice's eyes snapped to mine. "I hired her because I believed my mother representing me was a conflict of interest."

"And you're...? I'm sorry," Maurice said, dragging a hand across his face. "It's been a long day and I'm never good with names of people who aren't my clients..."

"Iana Milkovich," I reply, and Maurice sits slightly straighter in his seat. "My mother is Murphy Gallagher-Blomqvist, the attorney," I replied.

"Oh, yeah," Maurice said. "Her and her husband are excellent at their job. Your grandparents, too," Maurice went on. "A lot of their juvenile cases are passed on to me to monitor."

I nibbled at my lower lip. "Yeah, they're not really my grandparents," I replied, in a tone of voice that Maurice knew he wasn't to press further. "Anyhow, Cara did research on my family background to find a link between my insanity defense, and came across information regarding my paternal half-brother, Yevgeny Milkovich," I said, doing my best to keep steady, and felt my heart suddenly pounding when Axel took my hand. "In her letter and documents that she left upon her untimely death, you were mentioned several times, given your status as my brother's parole officer."

Maurice sat back in his old-timey wooden desk chair that you could find at inner-city schools that hadn't been rebuilt since the 1950's, placing his sausage fingers onto his belly. "And you figured you could ask for information?"

"Well, yeah," I replied, knowing that it was a longshot, but I needed all the information I could from people that were deemed to be reliable. "I'm family, after all..."

Maurice sighed. "Don't know what it is about the two of you, but there's something behind your eyes," he says, sticking his index finger towards me.

I blinked. "My eyes?"

"Yeah, not the color or anything, but what's behind them," he replied. "So, I take it that you and Yevgeny share the same father?"

I nodded. "Yeah, we've got the same father, hence the surname."

Maurice nodded. "I don't normally do this, but Yevgeny's parole period is over, and I'm more than a little convinced that you're family. Plus, Cara Hastings and Murphy Gallagher-Blomqvist are high-profile names around here, so you've got names on your side, too," he continues, pulling open one of his desk drawers and taking out a file folder, a mile thick, and blew on its surface, dust flying into the air, causing Axel and me to sputter for a moment. "Here you go," he said, handing over the dark green cardboard folder to me.

It appeared that there were coffee stains on its surface, as well as a massive red stamp, which red CASE CLOSED in bold letters. On the name indicator, the name YEVGENY MILKOVICH was featured in bold black type, and I instinctively ran my fingers over the name for a moment. I raised my eyes to Maurice then, and smiled. "Thank you," I said quietly.

Maurice sighed. "You're welcome," he replied. "Don't know what the two of you are looking for, though," he called after us, as we approached his office door. "Ever since his mom and her millions cut him off, he hasn't been the same."

. . .

I try to put my brief and petty argument with Axel out of my mind; I was a little annoyed that he had accepted a Friday night shift at the prison, but knew that it was his job, and if a warden called in sick, his number could be up. Axel pleaded with me to be reasonable, and although I'd wanted, more than anything, to rise to him, I just kept my mouth shut. Putting the thought from my mind, I dressed Hailey in her ladybug costume and me in my flapper one, and posed for far too many mama and baby selfies before we walked out of the house.

Halloween night, thankfully, was not heavy with traffic as I drove across town towards the apartment building where Uncle Lip and Aunt Mandy lived, as well as where Penny kept her work suite. That evening was her Halloween party, and Hailey, Axel, and I had been invited. I had wanted to show off my boyfriend at the festivities that evening and now I couldn't do that; of course, I was equally excited to show off my daughter, because nobody could've made a better ladybug under any circumstances whatsoever.

I knocked on the door, adjusting Hailey on my hip and hearing the pumping music on the other side of it, along with a pair of high heels. I grinned automatically when Rose answered the door and gasped aloud at the sight of Hailey. "Hey, Rose!" I said, looking her up and down. "Great ballerina costume!" I complimented.

Rose grinned and did a bow. "I'm the white swan," she explained. "And I'm digging the flapper vibes, girl!"

I laughed. "Thank you," I replied.

Rose reached out her hand to me and pulled me inside, before checking the hallway one more time as she shut the door. "Axel looking for a parking space?"

I sighed, shaking my head. "Had to take another shift at work."

Rose rolled her eyes. "Well, you and Hailey will just have to have fun without him," she said, and her eyes drifted onto Hailey again.

"Would you like to...?"

"Yes!" Rose cried, and took Hailey immediately, who seemed to settle instantly into her arms as she wandered off into the party.

I laughed then, opening the small closet off the main door and putting her bag inside of it, and walked towards the kitchen, her bottles in my hand. I slipped the two I'd brought inside, in the back, behind a case of beer, knowing that they wouldn't be disturbed. I heard footsteps behind me and straightened up immediately, turning around and seeing Liam. "Hey, Happy Halloween, Captain Jack Sparrow," I said, punching him playfully in the arm.

"Hey, flapper girl," he replied, removing his eye patch and shoving it in his pocket. "Sorry, my eye was getting hot..."

I rolled my eyes. "Right," I said, my voice dripping with sarcasm. I looked around then, and quickly spotted Rose, still holding Hailey, engaged in conversation with Penny and Lacey, who were dressed as Amy Poehler and Tina Fey respectively. "How've they been?"

"Good," Liam replied, following my glance. "Happy."

I smiled. "That's all anyone wants, isn't it?"

Right on cue, Rose brought over Hailey, who looked just a bit out of her element as if she suddenly seemed to realize that she was no longer in my arms. "This little princess missed her mommy," Rose said, gently handing her back to me.

"Come here, sweetheart," I said, pressing my lips to her forehead. "She'll be all right," I assured Rose, who nodded, before moving back towards Penny and Lacey. "Rose seems to really support the two of them."

Liam barked with laughter, and I had to narrow my eyes at him to get him to stop, lest he inadvertently scare Hailey. "Personally, I think one of the reasons is the notion that Lacey isn't Desmond and, therefore, cannot get her pregnant."

I rolled my eyes. "Jesus. I got pregnant at sixteen," I say, narrowing my eyes at him, and Liam suddenly appears as if he believes he's stuck his pirate's boot into his mouth. "Now I'm seventeen and have a beautiful daughter. To be honest, I didn't think I ever wanted kids but now," I continue, looking down at my daughter, "I'd never change a thing."

Liam sighs then, reaching out his arms then, and I raise my eyebrows at him, before gently handing Hailey over to him. "Hey, princess," he says gently, and is rewarded by a beautiful smile from my daughter, and I find myself smiling stupidly at the display. "I just wanna let you know that you're a shoo-in for the costume contest. If you don't get it, you'll at least get Cutest Costume. I know, I know, it's silly, but Penny and Lacey have this sick idea that everyone has to go home a winner tonight. I say let some people lose, so they know that the world doesn't always work out that way. It's the way you treat people that really counts, princess. If you're mean to people, then you don't win anything but enemies. But if you're nice to people, then you have the capability to win all the friends in the world."

I scoff, rolling my eyes. "Not true."

Liam looks up at me and grins unabashedly. "Excuse me, but I'm imparting wisdom on a younger generation. Now, shut up," he says playfully, and I cover my mouth to keep from laughing as he looks back down at my daughter. "But, I still say you're winning tonight. But I'm just a fourth of the judges, unfortunately. We'll have to do some adorable campaign work to get you a title tonight, won't we?"

Hailey grins up at Liam; he is the center of her world at the moment, and her expressive dark brown eyes never leaving his face. "Dada," she says then.

My heart nearly stops then, and my face pales quickly thereafter as I look up at Liam. "Oh, my god, I am so sorry," I said, gently taking Hailey back from him, and feel relieved when she doesn't protest my movements.

"It's all good," Liam assures me.

I sighed, biting my lip. "It was her first word," I admit lamely.

Liam grins. "Well, them I'm honored," he replies, and removes his pirate's hat, feather plume and all, and bows before the pair of us.

. . .

I step inside Yevgeny's house, if one could call it that, keeping a good hold of Hailey in my arms, and feeling Axel's presence at my heels. I feel a lump rise in my throat then, seeing that the splintered wood is a recurring theme around here, given that the floor is either cracked or splintered in several places. The furniture is threadbare, and it reeks of cheap cigarette smoke, likely the cheapest one could buy at the nearest corner liquor store. Yevgeny doesn't invite either of us to sit down, and I don't think I'd have accepted the invitation.

"What do you want to know?" he asks.

I turn and look over at him. "We met with Maurice."

"Yeah?" he asks, taking the cigarette from between his lips again and exhaling. "And how did it go meeting the wizard?"

I grit my teeth at the sarcasm of his tone. "Fine. Said you were clean."

"For two years," he said with a shrug. "No biggie."

I decided to try a different tactic. "He told us about your mother..."

"The fucking Russian hand whore?!" Yevgeny demanded, his eyes flashing with rage. "Got married to a guy old enough to be her fucking grandfather, got all his money, and swindled it from his own son! Kicked me to the curb faster than anything."

"Did she?" I ask.

He sighed. "Yeah," he replied, sticking the cigarette back into his mouth.

"What happened?" I want to know.

"Boarding school," he replied, looking at me as if I was crazy. "Then came military academy because I wouldn't straighten the fuck up. Then came juvie because I went fucking AWOL," he says, and crosses his arms again, his muscles flexing his tattoos. For the first time, I see that he has tattoos on his metacarpals, just like Pops does, which read Your Dead.

"Um..."

"What?" he demands.

I smirk slightly. "Your is supposed to be spelled with an apostrophe and then an 'E' at the end," I tell him, trying to make a joke about the situation.

"Yeah, well, I barely got an education, princess, so maybe you can take your fucking cunt ass and get the fuck out of my house," he growls. "I'm through talking to the one kid that our dear old dad loved."

I hand over Hailey to Axel without hesitation, and stomp over to him. "You are not gonna just stand there and hurl abuse at me!" I tell him through gritted teeth. "Axel," I say, keeping my eyes firmly glued to my brother, "take Hailey to the car. Now," I say, my voice firm, knowing that he would attempt to refuse, but when I heard the door close behind me, I knew that shit had the capability of going down. "I did not come here to fight with you."

"Then why did you come here?!" he hissed.

"Because you're my fucking brother!" I cried out. "You are my brother, period. I'm sure some people would tell me to get a DNA test, but I don't need one. I know who you are, and you're the son of Mickey Milkovich, just like I'm his daughter."

Yevgeny scoffed, looking away from me. "Whatever."

"No, not whatever," I said, snagging the cigarette from him and smashing it onto his piece of shit wood flooring. "You're my brother."

"Yeah, you fucking said that already, you..."

Just before he could say it again, I socked him in the jaw. "No."

Yevgeny held his jaw then, staring down at me in shock. "You can fight?"

I nodded. "Oh, yeah, I can fight," I told him. "I'm half-Gallagher, half-Milkovich. You do not want to fuck with me. It's a deadly combination. I almost beat a guy your size to death when I was fourteen. He was in a coma for over two years."

Yevgeny blinked. "How the hell are you walking the streets...?!"

"I'm mentally ill," I replied. "I'm bipolar, and have PTSD after being raped when I was five, and again when I was thirteen. That's why Pops taught me how to fight," I tell him. "I asked our father to teach me, because I was so fucking tired of being the weak one. But I'm not weak, not anymore, because I've got a good family, a boyfriend, and a daughter." I keep my eyes level with his then, and then permit myself to speak again. "Go pack your shit."

He raises his eyebrows. "What?"

"Go pack your shit," I say, this time in a more gentler tone of voice, but keeping the firmness lodged in there. "You can't live here anymore."

He scoffed. "You evicting me now?"

I shrugged. "Guess I am," I replied. "Now, go back your shit. You're coming back to South Side with me."

"Why?" he asked.

I rolled my eyes then, placing my hands on my hips. "Because, goddammit, you're my fucking brother, and you deserve to be with family."

Yevgeny shrugged. "I don't know."

I shook my head. "Christ," I muttered, crossing over to him and yanking him into my arms into a massive hug. I felt him tense in my arms then, but then his arms came around me, and he shuddered, and I knew then that he was holding back his emotions. "You're a fucking Milkovich, Yevgeny," I whispered to him, patting him on the back, knowing that all of this would take some getting used to.

"Yeah?" he asked. "Why?"

I pulled him back then and smiled up at him. "Because you're holding your shit in," I tell him, and grip him on the shoulder. "I know it's probably what kept you safe on the inside, but you don't gotta do that anymore. You don't."

"Why?"

"Because we're not going to label you a pussy for being human," I say simply, clapping him on the shoulder briefly before letting him go. "Now, go and pack your shit. It's time for you to face our father," I tell him.