._Snoofington's Raevan

[Snoofington]

Emergency Response
A CHECK-UP RP starring Cruz & Zeke

Zeke hadn’t known what to expect when he had seen Anita’s name pop up on his phone that afternoon. It had been awhile since the two had spoken - last he could figure was a comment on a Facebook status or photo maybe - and so he had been pleasantly surprised when the ringtone he had set for her started to chime.

Such feelings did not last long.

Instead of a cheery hello or perhaps an excited or exasperated tone of voice, Zeke’s ears had instead been graced with pure panic and a voice that could only belong to Cruz. The vet had tried to get a word in edgewise (who, what, when, where, why came to mind with a heavy leaning on the second of that particular set) but Cruz had overwhelmed the “conversation”, if it could really be called that. In his alarm the Croc’s words had been a jumble of repeated phrases, the most prominent of which was “EMERGENCY” followed closely by “PLEASE COME HERE NOW”. Naturally, such words sent alarm coursing through Zeke’s veins and the vet was out the door and in his car while still being on the phone with the Frei.

”Don’t worry,” he had cried over continued pleading and begging, ”I’m on my way!”

So now here he was, taking the corner from the elevator at a full dash with his heart in his throat. He skidded to a stop in front of the correct door and put his fist to the wood before doing one better and just letting himself in. EMERGENCY meant that things like ‘waiting for someone to answer the door’ could be set aside.



The door was unlocked since Anita came home and the living room was wide open, brightly lit and inviting. Tango hurried over to Zeke, barking wildly as he bounded toward the man, then stopped when he got a whiff of other dogs on his pants and was quickly placated.

Just a few feet in front of him was the couch, coffee table, and entertainment center; Anita sat calmly on the couch with her hands folded on her lap, her posture a little slouched but otherwise she appeared completely stable. She hadn’t even flinched when Zeke burst through the door but now that he was here she didn’t look at him either. Cruz, on the other hand, had been cradling his head against the coffee table when Zeke arrived and nearly dug his nails into the wood surface when he shot bolt upright.

”Zeke,” the croc cried as he floated closer. His hands went to Tango’s bandanna first, pulling the pup away so Zeke could enter properly. Cruz sputtered uselessly for a few seconds, gesturing vaguely. His eyes were wide and wet and he seemed out of breath. ”I-I broke Nita…”



His gaze had gone wildly from left to right as he burst through the door. Window, back of the room, more room, and then finally falling to Anita and Cruz just before Tango came running over. Zeke jumped from surprise at the sight of the big grey dog but it was enough to shake a smile from him before Cruz came over to retrieve him.

“Cruz!” The smile was quick to vanish as soon as the vet saw the tears in the Croc’s eyes and his breathlessness. He reached out and gently touched the green haired Frei’s arm but immediately pulled away with a hiss and a wince when he saw the yellowing bruises that covered it. “What happened I--”

He cut himself off as Cruz spoke and the alarm on his face gave way to confusion with a furrow of brows and a slackened frown.

“What do you mean?” He raised his head and he looked at Anita, sitting placidly on the couch. Cruz in tears and making wild, half-crazed pleas over the phone and Anita just...sitting there? “Anita?”

His voice carried but there was no response. There wasn’t even a slight movement from the girl. The furrow and frown both deepened and for a moment it was almost as if Cruz and Tango weren’t there. Zeke went from the door to the couch, pushing the coffee table away in order to crouch down in front of Anita.

“Anita?” He asked again, but there was the same lack of response. “Hey…” Zeke touched her hand, her forearm, and then her shoulder. Nothing.

“Cruz, what happened?” He did his best to keep his voice even though instinct was screaming at him that there was something Definitely Not Right going on. What the Croc had said just before he walked over rang through his head. “What do you mean you ‘broke Anita’?”



Cruz grimaced a touch from Zeke’s hand against a bruise but it was short lived. They didn’t matter right now and he was thankful the man switched gears almost immediately rather than pressing for information on them.

He watched Zeke move further into the apartment. Cruz pressed his own hand to the door and stayed there after it closed. The two of them both watched Zeke’s fruitless attempts at rousing some form of response from Anita but there wasn’t even the barest amount of recognition from her; not that anyone was around her, not the coffee table being moved, not her being touched.

When he was addressed again, Cruz whined. He released Tango and drew his nails through his hair. His ponytail was a loose mess -- he had been doing this for a while now.

”D-didn’t mean to,” the croc prefaced, voice shaking, ”not this. S-she was-- we were talking. We were talking a-and I told her something bad and--” He struggled through another whine and forced himself not to devolve back to tears before he finished, ”--she got upset a-and I got scared. I-I just wanted her to stop talking for a minute s-so I could say sorry but--”

She stopped everything, instead.



Zeke’s hand went from Anita’s shoulder to her wrist where he felt her pulse. Slow, but present, thank god. Cruz started speaking and Zeke turned to face him. Then he slowly stood up and as the Croc went on the world seemed to tilt a little farther on its axis. Confusion and alarm were both valid to be sure but he knew in that moment he had to be the one to be the reasonable, logical force here. Cruz had called him for that very reason; a child who had done something wrong and had no idea how to undo it.

But hell if he had any ideas how to do it either.

“Okay let’s...Let’s start at the beginning.” He almost wanted to say ‘calm down’ but that was a laughable idea, let alone plausible statement to say. He had to tell himself that though, lest it all get the better of him. “I mean...Not the beginning-beginning. You and Anita were talking, she got upset by something you said, you were scared and then...She just became like this?”

There was a lilt to his voice as he spoke the question, asking without saying the words to please explain. Please fill him in at that part right there because people did not just suddenly shut down when someone simply asked them to stop talking.



It was a good thing Zeke clarified what ‘beginning’ he wanted, as Cruz was prepared to start from day ******** one of this variety level hell. He listened to the man with his mouth half open, waiting for his turn to speak as his breath drew uneven and shallow. The frei managed to nod as his hands found his face and dragged down his cheeks.

”’Cause of me,” he spoke hesitantly, ”I-it’s my fault and I don’t--” Cruz hissed sharply as he drew in a breath, ”--I don’t know how to fix it. I dunno how to bring her back. I-I didn’t want--”

Of course he had to be skipping key information here, Anita was the first person he told about this whole debacle.

Cruz paused to swallow down his rising emotion. ”Zeke, I-- I can make people do things. I-I tell them, or-- or suggest, and… they do it.” It was a little easier to put into words the second time around, despite his entire body shaking like a leaf. ”It’s-- it’s bad, it’s really bad b-but I kept doing it ‘cause I-I just-- I thought I could help with it.”

As it turned out, this power didn’t cut through the bullshit like Cruz originally decided; it created more of it.

”I-I didn’t--” he whined, burying his face in his hands, ”--mean it this time. J-just wanted her to stop shouting a-and it happened anyway.”

These past weeks, Cruz thought he was getting a handle on things -- that he understood how this power worked now -- but like the first two times when it was fresh and foreign, it happened on its own. It happened because his emotions got the better of him, like a fight or flight response, and now he was forced to confront the fact he actually knew jack s**t about how this power worked or why and that it was bad, it was wrong, Anita was right. He just wanted so badly to do good with something like this and everything got out of hand.

His lips quivered as he repeated something Anita said earlier; ”It’s my essence…”



As soon as Cruz set about getting to the meat of this situation, it was as if a light went on in Zeke’s head.

“Forceful Mistletoe…” The name of the Essence that had gone into making Cruz fell from Zeke’s lips in a whisper, his eyes a touch wide. The mistletoe forced people who stood under it (or near it, as the case had been with Zeke and Anita all those years ago) to kiss, drawn together as if two magnets.

”Zeke, I-- I can make people do things. I-I tell them, or-- or suggest, and… they do it.”

Persuasion. Sort of. It was possible Cruz could make people kiss as a passive ability but he could do so much more than that if he actively engaged that power. And he had, clearly. To ends he had not foreseen, let alone planned for. The vet’s heart throbbed a little in his chest. This poor kid.

“So...I guess I can assume you’ve been able to do this for awhile huh?”

He took a few steps toward the Croc. Anita was stable in her sitting position with no threat of suddenly careening to the floor. Cruz, for all Zeke knew of him, was a physical being. He could tell him to calm down - still just as laughable - but reaching out to him, touching him, showing him he had a friend here, would perhaps be a better way to do that. The more the Crocodile talked the more exasperated he became and he would need to be more stable to help Zeke puzzle this situation out. The vet reached out a hand toward Cruz.

“It’ll be okay, Cruz. We can fix this.” He tried a smile. It was small and the blind could probably see the stress around the edges but it was a smile nonetheless. “Anita will be okay. Can you take a couple deep breaths for me? I’m gonna need your help to figure this all out.”

He waited then continued.

“You mentioned your Essence before. Did Anita ever tell you about it? What went into making you?”



”A c-couple months…” For all the times he used it purposefully, he could only really say it had been one full month but it had crept in accidentally well before he knew how to initiate it himself.

Cruz’s gaze drifted to Anita. His fingers stroked and picked at his lower lip as his mouth hung open helplessly. He didn’t notice Zeke’s hand at first but when the man spoke Cruz did a double-take; he stared at it hesitantly, gave Anita another glance, then reached out as well. As far as the croc could see, it was the other way around -- he needed Zeke’s help to figure this out. That made the vet’s assurances fall on a pair of less than enthused ears but beggars couldn’t be choosers and the frei was desperate.

He nodded slowly. ”Not, um-- e-everything, probably,” there were always missing pieces, weren’t there? ”but the mistletoe… making her kiss people. Y-yes.”

The croc grimaced. Anita had never been thrilled about that scenario. He knew how she had been with him when he was first born but it seemed like an eternity ago. He had grown complacent. All sorts of reservations slipped his mind these past months, he was now realizing, and Cruz’s heart sank -- as did he.

Though he touted wanting to be helpful, and truly he did, at the core of it all was one firm truth that made him feel sick. He was being selfish, just like Anita said her dad was being. He was selfish for doing all of this the way he did it and Anita didn’t like selfishness, she hated it so much she was ready to cut someone important out of her life because of it.

Unfortunately for Zeke, his emotions welled over all at once. Cruz drew his hand back and wrapped his arms around himself as his tears resumed, fresh and strong. He could hardly breathe, voice escaping in a mix of whines and low rumbles.

Anita would hate him for this. She would want him gone forever, too.



When the Croc took his hand Zeke gave it a firm, hopefully reassuring squeeze.

“Okay a couple months, it’s good to know that.” He smiled a little more. Cruz was being helpful and this was a Good Thing. He hoped he could see that.

From what Zeke knew of Raevan powers, most tended to start small and grow in strength and ability over time. A sensible course of action, especially when a Raevan practiced and honed their ability. One could start with barely being able to spark a flame, for example, but in a couple months time be able to get a fireplace going without so much as an afterthought. Cruz would have had to have gone down a similar road. Maybe he didn’t realize it at first - it sure seemed that way to Zeke - but over time he went from something small to this.

“I’m glad to hear she told you a bit about it, even though that’s not the whole story.” He almost sort of wished he had a prop on hand or something to help him explain. “Your Essence is called ‘Forceful Mistletoe’. And you’re right, it did make her kiss people even though she didn’t want to.

“Your Essence made any people who were near it kiss without warning. At the time I guess we figured it was sort of like magnets being drawn together, but your power now seems to be more like persuasion...Kind of.” It wasn’t the right word at all, but it was perhaps the nicest way to put it outside of maybe ‘suggestion’, which also wasn’t entirely right.

He wanted to lead this into asking Cruz about past uses of his powers. What did he do, how did he do it, what happened when he did and what happened after he stopped. He started to do just that, but suddenly Cruz was wrenching free of his hand and dissolving into tears. Alarm took hold and Zeke moved to embrace the Crocodile.

“Hey! Hey! Cruz don’t cry! I know this is all like a bad dream right now but I know it’ll work out! You’ll see; everything is gonna be alright!”



For all of Zeke’s reassurances, they did little to calm the sobbing crocodile. Cruz hugged himself tighter, nails scratching his bare arms without breaking the skin. He buried his face in the man’s shoulder to block out the sight of Anita, quiet and still, emotionless and unresponsive.

He wasn’t thinking.

All this time he kept telling himself he was doing this to be helpful but he wasn’t thinking about anyone but himself. That wasn’t how he wanted to be. Cruz truly wanted to help others but he wouldn’t even trust them to help themselves. How could he really help anyone if he was just making decisions for them? Anita was right, this wasn’t help -- it wasn’t going to help anyone and he felt so stupid and selfish for not understanding that until this moment. Until something like this happened.

The Forceful Mistletoe. It was a part of him, an integral part that made him exist and shaped Cruz into the raevan he was. That was where this power came from, a power that was wrong and so easily abused. Thoughts swirled in Cruz’s mind like a tornado; what if he had been a different person with this power? How much worse would things be? As much as he tried to force it, nothing good would come of this -- not when he had ruined so much already.

”It’s bad,” Cruz whined, ”it’s bad, it’s so bad. It’s wrong.”

Anita’s voice raised in his head. His voice shook as Cruz tried to shrink himself, to curl up into a small tight ball. ”I-I’m wrong.” And there, his breath held. The frei stopped wailing but he was far from calm. ”I’m-- I’m bad,” he resolved. He lifted his head from Zeke’s shoulder but his wet eyes didn’t dare look at the man’s face.

”H-how can I be good if I--” Cruz stared at his trembling hands, his fingers shaking like leaves. He wanted to help but all he was doing was hurting. Making things worse. Digging holes deeper.

This wasn’t the power of a helper, it was the power of an oppressor.



He hugged the Croc close as he sobbed while alternating between patting what little back he had and rubbing it. He murmured continued words of encouragement - “It’ll be alright” and “Shh...Cruz it’ll be okay” among the top two repeated - even though he was sure they weren’t reaching him.

”It’s bad, it’s bad, it’s so bad. It’s wrong.”

“What?!” Zeke jerked a little as the word ‘wrong’ then fell from the Croc’s lips in regards to himself. His eyes widened and his mouth fell open. “Cruz no! This isn’t...This was an accident! You didn’t mean for this to happen!”

What else did Zeke know of Raevan powers? That sometimes before a Raevan truly had a handle on them, they would and could happen without much say so from that Raevan. To his eyes and his ears this is what happened: Cruz and Anita were talking, a bad thing was said, Cruz was scared, and his powers activated without him being able to stop them.

“You’re very good! You’re a good boy! You just don’t have complete control over your powers yet and when you got scared they must have happened without you being able to stop them!”

Zeke’s words were edging on pleading with the Frei. This was all going so wrongly. It should have gone along the path of getting Anita right or back to normal by now. Cruz would have calmed down enough for them to talk and then they would have brainstormed on how his powers worked from start to end. From there, application or at the very least testing things out to see the resolution. Anita would be…

Zeke chanced a look over his shoulder at the girl. No change. Perhaps for right now that was for the better.



All of this talk was going in circles and Cruz knew that was his fault, too. He wasn’t helping Zeke understand the situation just as he had helped no one else despite his efforts. The croc shook his head as Zeke tried to assure him he was good, that this was all one big accident.

But that was wrong, too.

”No, no, no,” Cruz mumbled under Zeke’s assurances, ”th-this time was but not all the others. Been using it for a month a-and not-- not like this--” At all other times, the suggestion or command was with a single solitary purpose. To bring calm, to get information, to gain permission. They all had an expiration once the task was fulfilled that was it, things resumed as normal, but this -- did it even have a stopping point? Would it end on its own?

His leaking eyes wandered back to Anita as well. So specific a command but with so many vague implications. Demanding the opposite didn’t work. Why?

”I-I don’t know what to do… ‘c-cause I-- I tried and it’s not working.” Cruz brought his hand to his mouth; he tried to breathe slower into it, to keep from hyperventilating, ”Told her to ‘stop’, she stopped. Everything. Told her to ‘go’... Nothing.” Was it that commands couldn’t be interrupted? That they couldn’t stack? He felt so stupid, using this power so extensively for the better part of a month and a half and he still knew so little about its intricacies.

Then another thought hit him like a punch to the chest. This wasn’t the only vague command he had given today. Anita’s father might still be consumed with that single minded purpose to be nicer, whatever the hell that meant beyond apologizing and buying her gifts. He didn’t even do that in person, which most likely meant part of that niceness was attempting to give her space -- but how much? For how long?

”Oh god,” he held his head, ”Z-Zeke, I-- I need to go. I need to go, I messed up so much. Nita’s not the only one I broke, I--” had to go and do what, exactly? There still was no solution and the only way to find one would be to troubleshoot through action but now there were two grievous errors to account for and one might have been miles away by now. He looked to Zeke, someone he had never once tampered with, and knew he couldn’t test it here. ”Please, just-- just watch Nita, t-try to wake her up, I-I don’t know-- I’ll be back.”

The croc pushed away from Zeke weakly, palms against his shoulders.



He listened. Every word Cruz said as he finally revealed the how of the situation. The fact he had used this power before was something of a footnote to Zeke although the fact Anita’s predicament was not the norm stood out.

The puzzle only grew more complex it seemed.

“There could be a lot of reasons why it didn’t work. Maybe you used it too soon after the first command or maybe because you got even more scared your power just cut out!” Zeke’s hold on the Croc relaxed somewhat. The hug hadn’t helped too much and it would do no good to keep him restrained. “Have you tried again since you called me? Maybe if you try now you could--”

Cruz cut him off with a panicked realization and a weak push. Caught by surprise, the push was enough to put Zeke off kilter and so the vet had to take a step back in order to catch himself. He let Cruz go completely.

“Wait, what? What do you mean?” Alarm set into the vet’s voice and he looked the part. He knew the Croc wasn’t thinking straight right now but damn! “You can’t leave!”

He had to try and stop him. What sort of man would he be if he let this poor, overstimulated kid leave the place and run out into the world? What sort of Guardian, hell, Lab staff member would he be?

What would happen if Cruz’s powers decided to reactivate while he was out in this state?

Zeke reached out and made to grab the Croc’s arm.

“Whatever else happened we can call someone and get it sorted out! Cruz, you need to stay here!”



He tried. He tried so much. He tried everything he could think of while waiting for Zeke to arrive. Layering commands wasn’t working and he had no idea how else to deal with this if there was no clear end to Anita’s current task. He didn’t even tell her what to stop, and Cruz had to wonder now if he asked her to stop talking would she have lost her voice forever?

Cruz drifted away as soon as Zeke released him. The croc floated back toward the coffee table, further and askew since Zeke moved it. He plucked up Anita’s phone as Tango followed him across the apartment, still whining quietly with all of their noise and Cruz’s crying. The frei was ready to head out the door then and there but he froze at Zeke’s protest; his eyes turned wild with fear again as his first instinct at having his arm grabbed was to tell Zeke to stop but he swallowed it down.

”I have to,” he pleaded; Cruz tried to tug his arm out of the vet’s grasp but grimaced -- his shoulder was still sore and twisting his arm around to escape wouldn’t go well. ”I have to fix this, y-you don’t understand.”



He winced when Cruz did at the grab. The bruises were so apparent and that made the vet feel terrible but he couldn’t just let the Frei go.

“I know you have to fix things and that you want to fix things,” he was trying to reason with him though everything about his face and voice was begging, “but why don’t we start here first? Anita needs you here.”

Zeke also needed him here.

“I know you’re scared to death and I’m sure you’re even more scared of what’ll happen when she comes out of her trance but, please Cruz, I need your help here. If your power got her into this state, I don’t know if anything I can do myself can get her out! You’re the key!”

He kept his hold on the Croc but now the vet was visibly trembling. His palms had gotten sweaty and his voice had broken on the last word.

“Whatever happened wherever you’re trying to go, we can call someone. Please. Anita’s mom or...or…”



Why was everything about this making him realize how terrible he was at everything he tried? He couldn’t properly explain anything, words were never his strong suit, and Cruz always told himself it was because he was just more straightforward than everyone else -- that it was them who made things too complicated. But here he was, unable to negotiate his way out of a paper bag.

He brought the phone to his head and clenched his eyes. Zeke’s pleading was resonating but it was taking all of the croc’s effort not to let himself push past and use his instincts, to use this power to silence someone else. There were so many things he had to do, so many things he had to clean up, but Tristan was out there under Cruz’s influence with no supervision and the chances were high that if he lost track of him now he might never find the man again. At least Anita had someone here, now, to keep her safe and -- god, he hoped -- calm if she snapped out of it before he got back.

Cruz knew Zeke didn’t want to hurt him but they were both frantic, him in his grip and Cruz in his increasingly clumsy attempts to pull away. Just a foot or so from him, Anita sat unchanged. He clenched his eyes shut; his teeth grit so hard it hurt.

In a whirl of movement, Cruz turned to fully face Zeke. The sharpness of it was painful and it only spurned him on all the more. A terrible rumble slipped from his core, a reptilian cry that was not at all the low and gentle voice he carried but a man-eater’s warning as his teeth bared toward Zeke’s arm.



For a moment it seemed like his words were getting to Cruz. The Croc closed his eyes and appeared to fight with himself, going so far as to hold the phone against his head almost as if it might burst.

“I know you’re scared,” he reiterated, “believe me, I would be too if I was in your spot. You’re afraid Anita won’t come out of it or that if she does she’s gonna be mad as hell. I get it. But believe me when I say that if you stay here I can do my best to help you get her out of this. Like...Like...You said you’ve used the power before right? What happens to a person after you use it? Why don’t we start there?”

The trembling was in his brain and he figured he could get a better result to everything with more questions. Get Cruz to think about something other than leaving and voila, he would stay. If he stayed, Anita would come out of this all the quicker. Bing bang boom.

But as things often did, easier said than done. Suddenly Cruz was turning to face him - Zeke thinking the best for a split second in time - and then there was a roar in his ears that shook the windows, or perhaps that was just his vision from how quickly he startled. Then the Croc became a green blur of movement and Zeke wrenched away from him to avoid the mouth that was angled for his arm.

“s**t!” His legs tangled and the coffee table had been pushed out of one way and into another. The vet’s right ankle caught on the leg and he went down backwards over it, hitting the table’s corner with his back while he tried desperately to break his fall to the floor with his left side. He audibly crashed there in a heap, punctuating the moment of damning silence right thereafter with several heaves from the wind being knocked out of him and finally a low, choked moan.



With all of the fanfare, it truly seemed like a real threat -- and that was precisely what Cruz was counting on. Zeke released him well before his teeth met flesh, as intended. What didn’t factor into his plans was where the coffee table had been moved to and Zeke went down like a sack of potatoes. Before his body hit the floor, there was another crash, a smaller one from a glass that had been forgotten. It fell over the opposite end from Zeke, and from Anita, but the pieces scattered against the hardwood floor.

It punctuated the look of horror on Cruz’s face quite well.

He floated with one hand outstretched, shaking. Tango rushed to Zeke’s side and nosed at him, which wasn’t the most helpful thing for a dog to do but the intent was pure.

”S-sorry,” Cruz squeaked after such a tremendous roar. He floated back, still clutching Anita’s phone, and distanced himself from the scene until his back tapped against the sliding glass door of the balcony. ”I’m sorry,” he said with just a little more strength.

Cruz pulled open the door and moved onto the balcony. They were up on the third floor; it didn’t seem that far in theory but looking down was another story entirely. He held Anita’s phone tightly to his chest, pressed against his racing heart, and glanced over his shoulder. There was no way he could get past Zeke and out the door, down the hall, into the elevator, and away from the building with how slowly he floated. ”P-please, just stay with her!”

One hand gripped the railing; he pulled himself over it and dipped further down than he expected even while floating. Cruz let out another hurried apology before letting go. It was slow, like a descending balloon when it was half out of helium. He took hold of the balcony below’s railing, and then the one after that.

Tango circled around Zeke before he lost sight of Cruz. The wolfhound trotted onto the balcony as well and pressed his nose between two of the bars to no avail.

 

[Snoofington]

Signal Boost

Stress like this made one forget how sunny it was outside. Normally the energy from such a bright, warm day would be a welcomed thing for the croc but today it seemed to funnel directly into his anxiety.

When Cruz stopped at the ground floor, he had to shield his eyes to look back up at the balcony. It was difficult but he could just make out a fluffy silhouette peeking through the bars.

”Sorry,” he said aloud, though neither Zeke nor Tango could hear him from the parking lot.

Cruz drifted across the pavement until he was at the edge of it, out toward the street. There, he floated with phone in hand and war eyes on the apartment doors. He hoped so dearly, roughed up by the coffee table or not, that Zeke would not dare leave Anita in her current state to try and apprehend him. When a full, agonizing minute passed with no such course, Cruz proceeded with his plans.

His thumb sorted through Anita's contacts. It was a clumsy process thanks to his limited experience with the touch screen phone, made more complicated from his trembling hands. He found Tristan's number, listed under 'Dad', and made to call – then hesitated. Cruz didn't want to outright lie to the man but the chances of Tristan making a speedy return for Cruz's sake were slim to none, especially after what he did hours earlier. If he was using Anita's phone then it would look like Anita was the one contacting him anyway and Cruz wouldn't have to lie at all.

Please come to the beach behind the apartment as soon as you get this. It seemed a simple enough request. The only thing Cruz could hope for now was that he wasn't too far away.

That left a few other matters to contend with. Zeke mentioned Anita's mom earlier and that was precisely where Cruz's attentions went next. Another text was sent, much more simple this time: Emergency, please come home. Mordekai and Duncan came after, each getting a separate text that read the same: Please come over asap.

He had to stop in the middle of typing theirs, slow as he was with the phone's keyboard, as he was interrupted by a response from Minerva.

On my way. What's wrong?

His heart hurt but there was no way he could explain all of this right now. For that, at least in the mean time, he would need to rely on Zeke once she arrived.

Cruz started on his way to the beach, if only to make more distance between the apartments and himself. He couldn't be here when Minerva pulled up or it would be a repeat of upstairs, she wouldn't let him go and Cruz wasn't sure he had the heart to fake her out with such a scary tactic, let alone doing it twice in one day.

Notifications went off from Minerva as he provided no answer. Another worried text, then a few calls. Each sound from the phone made his heart race. Cruz fumbled to silence the ringer each time. Between them, another text popped up and Cruz was ready to dismiss it but it wasn't from Minerva.

Be there in ten minutes.

Tristan wasn't far at all.

 

[Snoofington]

High Tide

There were more notifications sounding off than Cruz cared to count.

With his ribbon dangling over sand, he stared at the phone; another call from Minerva, texts from Mordekai and Duncan, then separate calls from the both of them. Cruz answered none. After receiving the reply from Tristan, he wasn't even reading the texts.

Maybe he should have waited to tell Duncan and Mordekai. Their distance was far greater than Minerva's and, even if they started the drive over now, it would take an hour minimum for them to get to the apartment – likely longer thanks to rush hour starting soon. The croc frowned. He didn't want to cause more panic but he didn't want to keep others in the dark now, either. Besides that, all three of them were comforting presences for Anita and Cruz was sure those would be essential for her when she woke up.

If she woke up.

The wait was agonizing. It took him about five minutes to get to the beach himself, half the time of Tristan's estimated arrival, but that left Cruz with nothing to do for the next half except hover uselessly while Anita's phone kept crying for attention. He needed to be out in the open, somewhere obvious that would make spotting Tristan easier, and wandering along the beach to kill time would only make this rendezvous more complicated.

So he waited and waited, watching every car that passed or pulled into the beachfront lot like a hawk, until finally a green station wagon rolled into view. It parked where it could find and Cruz saw Tristan step out to scan the horizon for his daughter.

A touch hesitant, Cruz lifted his arm to gain the man's attention and soon Anita's father was on his way over at a brisk pace. It slowed to nearly a crawl when he saw only the frei was present.

Tristan regarded Cruz warily. ”Where's Anita?”

”She's--” he winced, ”home.”

Rather than look annoyed, as the croc expected, Tristan lowered his gaze to his shoes. ”Did she like her present?”

Again, Cruz winced. ”Not... as much as I hoped.”

That really took the wind out of Tristan's sails; his shoulders drooped as he slouched. ”I ran out of ideas... It was all I could think of.” Cruz clutched the phone tightly in his hands. ”I was just hoping to hear from her.”

”Sorry,” Cruz hung his head, ”for tricking you into coming here. And for earlier...” Even without watching the man in front of him, he could see Tristan tense and adjust his stance – he wanted to leave. ”But this is important. I have to ask you... a very big favor. For Anita's sake.”

He looked up. Tristan seemed less likely to turn back to his car. He still kept a cautious distance from the croc and his eyes read skeptical but there was a curiosity there too, a mix of hope and worry. ”What is it?”

Cruz chanced floating closer, just a little. When Tristan didn't flinch or back away, Cruz closed their distance further.

”Sorry for this, too,” he said as he took hold of Tristan's shoulder, ”need you to stay still.

There was a sharp inhale from the man as the command took hold; his body went rigid in the casual posture he carried but, like with Anita, his breathing and ability to blink was left unaltered. The key difference here was that Tristan's eyes followed Cruz. They moved consciously, sat wide – they carried fear.

”I'm sorry.”

Alongside the simultaneous relief and guilt Cruz felt, there was a budding understanding; he could not give two commands at once, that much he determined with Anita, so the fact that Tristan reacted to the new command meant either the first wasn't quite as vague as Cruz thought and registered some sort of stopping point or, perhaps a more likely case, it wore off with time.

Even if that was true, he still had no idea how long of a time it would take or if each command had a different deadline. That was why he was here, now, using this morally reprehensible power again; to test its limits, to search for a fail-safe.

With both hands on Tristan's shoulders, Cruz could feel the man's uneven breath. He looked apologetic but now that they were here there was little he could do except try.

”Go.”

He started with the one he used on Anita but to no avail. Cruz frowned and took a deep breath, then tried something different.

”Move.”

Still no change, and Tristan's pace of breath was growing increasingly uncomfortable. Once again, he offered the man a look of apology. When Cruz closed his eyes to draw breath again, his body dipped to the side for a second as if he lost his balance. He brought one hand to his head while keeping the other firmly on Tristan's shoulder then tried again.

”Never mind,” perhaps the weakest choice of words yet but it was worth a shot to try and command permission to negate the first command. Unfortunately, there was nothing doing.

Cruz hung his head and found his breathing more in time with Tristan's than it should have been. From all of the fear, the stress, the panic from before finally coming down, Cruz was realizing just how tired he really was – not to mention starving. He tried to think back to earlier in the day but compared to the last few there was a considerable deficit of kisses.

Each attempt must have been sapping his energy further and he was concentrating too hard to notice.

With a weak rumble, Cruz looked at Tristan straight on. ”Hey,” he started softly, ”I need to take a break... Sorry about all this.” Cruz wet his lips; he hadn't realized how dry they were. ”I'm sorry about this, too... but I need to eat.”

His eyes searched Tristan for a reaction but there was none the man could give, stuck as he was. At least, until Cruz explained – that caused the man to huff. ”Not on the lips, 'cause you can't say yes or no... Sorry.”

Judging from the flick of Tristan's eyes to follow Cruz's hand, the croc could guess he would have flinched back if he could have. Cruz grimaced but pressed on to move some of Tristan's hair aside and expose his forehead. It wouldn't be much compared to on the lips, or even on the cheek, but with the breach in boundaries already in place this seemed like the least intimate place to kiss.

As his lips touched skin, Cruz tensed. This kiss felt different than any other he'd had. Even from someone as cold as Zurine, a kiss to feed him issued a blush-like warmth to his mouth that trailed down to his very core and spread out comfortably to every inch of his body. Here, now, there was a strange chill that followed the same path; it sat heavy and leaden in his rune. He didn't like this kiss and was quick to pull away from it.

So did Tristan.

More appropriately, the man staggered back a few steps with a hand to his forehead. He looked positively violated but Cruz was far more fixated on the fact that Tristan was moving at all.

”What the hell was that?” Tristan demanded in a tone Cruz had never heard from him before. He was uncomfortable, frustrated, and confused – all easily discerned in his voice and his body.

Cruz held up his hands in a truce. ”S-sorry! I'm sorry!” he cried, suddenly breathless. Was that really all there was to it? Such a strange sensation, like he had pulled the given order right out of Tristan's brain. Cruz's eyes were wild and there was a curl to his lips that went unnoticed until Tristan glared him down; he had been smiling and tried to dampen it as soon as he realized.

”What is wrong with you?”

It was much easier to lose a smile after being asked that.

”I-I know that was weird, I know. I'm sorry, so sorry, b-but there's no time. Nita's stuck too a-and now I know how to fix it!”

Tristan paled instantly. ”Anita? What did you do--”

”We have to go! Please!” without waiting for him, Cruz started towards the man's car.

It didn't take long for him to catch up, and then to pass Cruz entirely. The croc rumbled in frustration as he willed himself to go faster. Tristan doubled back once he opened the passenger door and saw how far Cruz still was. He grabbed the raevan's arm, immediately speeding the process. It would be much the same when they reached the apartment building.

 

[Snoofington]

When the Bough Breaks
starring Cruz, Zeke, & Anita
featuring Minerva, Tristan, & Tango

You could fill up a lake with the tears of a crocodile.

 

[Snoofington]

Never Again
Growth Reflection

The sheets piled around him were warm, if not a little snug. Beside him, Cruz felt the rise and fall of Tango's chest; the hound was curled up atop the covers, which kept them pinned around one of his sides. Without opening his eyes, heavy as they felt, Cruz slid one arm over to the mutt and curled his fingers into Tango's fur. He felt sluggish, not sore – at least, not as much – but drained, almost like he hadn't slept at all.

Of course, he must have; he was snuggled up in bed with a dog snoozing beside him. The only problem was, Cruz couldn't remember when he settled down.

”I don't understand.”

”Then listen better.”

His eyes opened.

It was dim in the room, most of the light filtered in from under the door. The bedroom was not his own, the one he shared with Anita's, but much larger with a door to the bathroom at the opposite end. The queen sized bed they lay on, the floral comforter, the dresser top covered in make-up supplies, and the purse seated on a chair in the corner told him this was Minerva's room.

That was also Minerva's voice outside of the door, muffled and hushed but not the slightest bit weak.

Conversation faded in and out as Cruz gained his bearings. He could hear Anita, recounting something – she didn't sound pleased either. As he shifted, Tango opened his eyes but even as Cruz sat up in bed his furry companion stayed curled in his ball. The faint drone of a fan kept them both cool but made it all the more difficult to hear the discussion outside.

Cruz ran his hands down his face. His hair was loose around his shoulders and fell over them like a curtain as he leaned forward. He felt heavy.

”...able to for a while now... don't know what... was thinking...”

Anita's voice crept in the most softly of all. She sounded as haggard and weighed down as he felt.

As he pulled the sheets aside, Tango lifted his head. He watched the raevan pull himself to the edge of the bed, ribbon dangled over the side of the mattress.

For a moment Cruz sat there, green cloth trailing limply to the floor. Minerva's bed frame sat taller than the one in his shared room, which gave the croc pause. His palms were pressed to the edge of the bed to prop himself up, both arms were straight, and he felt much too tall for his ribbon to make contact with the floor at this angle, much less rest several inches against it.

Disoriented, his head swaying, Cruz looked down at himself. Bare skin trailed up from the end point of his ribbon that softly curved into hips and a flat, supple stomach that he could scarcely pull his eyes from as he watched it move with each shallow breath.

Hesitant fingers brushed the new flesh. It was an odd sensation that made Cruz gasp and still his lungs, an accidental tickle that left and odd feeling in its wake as he traced around his new contours.

The freshly made sigel was too entranced by his metamorphosis to concentrate on the talks outside until he heard Minerva utter ”shut up” in a harsh tone he was so unused to. It startled Cruz and he froze where he sat.

”Mom...” he heard Anita quietly chide before an uneven silence fell.

Cruz glanced behind him to see Tango staring at the door with his ears perked. He reached across the bed and pet the top of Tango's head, flattened his ears back, but the dog's attention didn't waver and his ears returned to their alert position as soon as he finished.

He could hear Tristan speak but the man was quiet to begin with. Cruz drew a long breath and pushed himself away from the mattress. Tired he was but he had enough energy to float, even if it was low enough for half of his ribbon to glance along the floor. He hovered to the door, which prompted Tango to begin standing; Cruz gave a short hiss in dismissal and the wolfhound settled for laying flat on the bed with all attention forward.

Palm pressed to the wood, Cruz lowered himself to lay against the floor. He couldn't see through the space beneath the door, nothing besides more hardwood anyway, but it cut away the sound of the fan and the barrier around their voices.

”Anita...” Tristan trailed off from a topic Cruz missed. He could hear some shuffling, like fingers against skin or combing through hair. ”What do we do from here? I don't know where we stand now... We're back at square one.”

Her reply came as a sigh, flat in tone. ”This isn't square one... I can't keep doing this with you. I'm tired of it.”

”What about him?”

Cruz felt his heart thud against his ribs. The man's tone, like he was speaking of a dangerous thing, set a pit in the raevan's stomach.

”What about him?”

”Everything that happened this time-- what does it have to do with us? It was Rob and Cruz's fault.”

”It's not just about this. You wouldn't have even been able to talk to me again if it wasn't for Cruz, remember?”

”That doesn't change the fact that you want me to go and not him when he did all of this. Did that to you. Anita, he's dangerous--”

Something clattered against the table. Cruz jolted and closed his eyes, fingers curling against the wood.

”If you say anything like that again--”

Minerva's voice shook with rage but just as quickly as it inflamed she quieted and drew back in silence. It wrapped around all of them outside the door, twisted painfully around Cruz like chains. What he did to Anita – recalling now, it made him feel sick.

After several agonizing moments, Tristan broke the silence. His voice was low; Cruz could detect a vulnerable wavering in it that he had never heard the man use before. ”Do you really hate me that much?”

Cruz's nails dragged slowly on the door the longer it took Anita to answer.

”No,” she spoke finally, with a soft volume to match Tristan's, ”I don't hate you... I never did. You're my dad, you'll always be my dad...” Any weakness in Anita's voice steadied so it all but disappeared. ”But that doesn't mean I'm obligated to talk to you, I chose to. You weren't here. You didn't raise me. I don't owe you anything like that and I'm not something you can just come back to whenever you feel guilty enough to try.”

His eyes were clouded, breath shaken. The pit in Cruz's stomach had only grown since it first appeared; it spread throughout him, made him feel cold and weak yet overheated at the same time.

Onto his back he rolled, eyes locked to the ceiling. Tango slipped down from the bed and craned over the raevan to sniff his face, a wet tongue lapped at his cheek. All Cruz offered in response was a lazy brush against the dog's side.

Never, in all of his predictions, expectations, hopes, did he see this being how things ended. Even with the purest intentions, he never could have prepared for the chips falling like this. All that he tried to put together, every lie and manipulation he weaved in effort to help, to simplify, only succeeded in rendering more complications.

It really was selfish. He was selfish. And this power... how much he abused it, how terrible it made everyone feel. Cruz felt disgusting just for having it. There was nothing good about taking away people's choice, like Anita said. It was a bad power, a cruel power, maybe even unforgivable.

Tristan was right; he was dangerous, that much he knew now. This awful thing was a part of him, inseparable, so what did that say about him? Cruz never wanted to use it again but there was no escaping the fact that he could, that he already had.

He really wasn't any good at all.

 

[Snoofington]

I. Aftermath
Day One

Things were quiet following Tristan's departure. Cruz hadn't paid much more attention after Anita made up her mind. The croc crawled back to the bed and pulled himself back onto it, which felt strange given his new difference in length. Tango took his spot in front of the door, sniffing curiously at the space beneath it. At some point, Anita retreated to their room and Cruz lost track of Minerva. He couldn't be sure how much time passed before there was a knock at the apartment door; the sliding glass to the balcony opened, Minerva's gait tipping Cruz off that it was her, and at least two more bodies entered the apartment in some sort of hushed confusion.

At least two, he thought, because Cruz soon heard the soft peal of Aina's voice with no legs to carry her. Their voices were much harder to hear as Minerva brought them up to speed. In all honesty, Cruz had forgotten he sent them a notice to come when they could and he certainly hadn't meant to rope Aina into the situation. Minerva, at least, seemed to feel the same and spared many details from what the croc could tell.

”Cruz and Anita aren't feeling well,” he heard, 'They're resting right now so we should leave them be.”

He wanted to go out, to say hi, to hug them, something, but Aina was a curious child and Cruz a poor liar. From the direction the conversation was heading, it seemed they were going to take their leave now that they knew there was no emergency; that would have been an even worse time for the croc to make his appearance, given the rain girl's penchant for tears when parting ways.

In his lethargic haze, Cruz once again lost track of the number of bodies moving around the apartment. He couldn't even be sure how long their friends had stayed before departing but he heard the mention of Rebecca as their next destination.

Maybe now was a good time to slip out. Tango surely didn't want to stay cooped up any longer, not with his whining and pawing at the door – not with having missed his friends.

”Sorry, buddy.” Cruz ran his fingers down the wolfdog's neck and gently scratched the back of Tango's ears with his claws. As he opened the door to Minerva's bedroom, the door to his and Anita's shared space closed again causing the croc to double take as Minerva was all the way in the kitchen.

Tango wasted no time bounding out and sniffing all over to determine who their visitors were. The mistletoe raevan raised a hand sheepishly to Minerva as his eyes drifted warily to the opposite bedroom. ”Did Nita come out...?”

”Not since her dad left.” Minerva was at the fridge, her back to Cruz, but she turned after a moment to offer a tired smile. ”You missed Duncan and Aina.”

”Oh,” he said, as though he didn't know. Cruz paused then, brows knit. There were more footsteps in here than just Duncan's. ”Not Momo?”

She shook her head. Minerva closed the door, in her hand a pitcher of juice. ”He's still here. Checking on her.”

Cruz rubbed his arm. He nodded as Tango slipped by toward the kitchen.

”Hope she's okay...” They needed to talk. Soon.

 

[Snoofington]

II. Aftermath
Day Two

No one came to retrieve Mordekai that night. After some discussion between Cruz, Minerva, and him, the croc understood and it made him all the more worried. Mordekai was going to stay with them for the week and Anita would not be going to work in that time. This seemed both good and bad to Cruz; he understood the merits of rest and needing a break, it also kept Anita within easy reach which he direly wished to capitalize on, but it also meant a constant longing and persistent anxiety the longer she stayed in her room.

She didn't come out that night at all; at least, not that he could tell. The sofa was pulled out to form the couch bed for Mordekai, which Cruz thought somewhat unusual. Even at Duncan's the two had been sharing a room for some time, so why not now?

Cruz slept but it was restless. He was bunched up in Minerva's bed with her and Tango, which was odd to negotiate with his new torso. It felt cramped. A strange sensation, suddenly taking up more space in the world. That wasn't what made sleep difficult so much as his thoughts, though. He wondered if Anita was having trouble sleeping, too.

It took some time into the afternoon before Cruz saw hide nor hair of her. The air felt strange as Anita stood in the doorway, looking tired. That confirmed as much. Her hair was out of its braids and a fluffy mess from pressing and sliding against pillows all night. She looked at the three of them – Mordekai, Tango, and himself – sat along the couch they put back together after breakfast but her gaze drifted from Cruz the fastest as she dismissed herself to the bathroom.

He couldn't help but fidget.

”Nita?” Cruz asked hesitantly. It had nearly been an hour since she was out and Anita scarcely said two words to any of them. She took up a seat on the couch, Mordekai in the center with Tango cradled in his lap like a friendly barrier. When all Anita did to acknowledge him was murmur, her thumbs working lethargically at a controller, Cruz continued. ”Are you okay...?”

Her motions didn't cease but even from the corner of his eye Cruz saw the movement grow sloppy. Still, she didn't look at him. ”I don't know.” She was quiet, terse.

”Can we--”

”I don't want to talk about it right now.”

All he could think of was when she was seething in the car in front of Duncan's house, refusing to enter because she was too mad. The same tone, the same quiet anger and simmering discomfort. She must have been mad at him now, too – maybe just as much as her father or uncle.

 

[Snoofington]

III. Aftermath
Still Day Two

Hours ticked by like molasses.

From the previous dismissal, Cruz went quiet. He let Anita concentrate on the game she was playing, concentrate on the silence that he hoped was comfortable for her because it certainly was not for him. Before too long, Mordekai retreated to the kitchenette and Anita switched from games to cartoons when one too many failures made her lose interest.

When she finished eating, Anita left for the bedroom again and Cruz was left with a sinking weight in his center. Whoever came up with the phrase out of sight, out of mind was an idiot. The less he saw of Anita, the more he fret. The physical barrier between them was thin, just a door – it didn't even have a lock – but it felt like there was an invisible shield around her now that was specifically designed to keep him out. Cruz tried to push the thoughts aside with little success. Even distractions he was normally able to immerse himself in like TV, games, or playing with Tango offered him little enjoyment with such a thick cloud hanging overhead.

Not right now, she said. It damn sure wasn't right then anymore.

Cruz floated to the bedroom door and pressed his ear to it. Things were quiet, though it was a little difficult to hear subtle movements behind a slab of wood with Mordekai running the sink in the kitchenette.

”Nita?” the sigel called softly. When no answer came, he raised his hand.

”Cruz, c'mon, she's restin' up.” Mordekai's voice made Cruz flinch before his knuckles even made contact.

He pulled his hand away and turned to face Mordekai. The man was working at a dish with a sponge, a frown on his face. Cruz hesitated before approaching him. ”I-I know, but...”

The last dish was set on the rack by the time Cruz crossed the threshold. Mordekai had his hands in a towel that hung from the oven handle. ”I get it,” the man said but Cruz couldn't be so sure. ”Can you help me dry up these dishes?”

Green eyes fell to the dish rack with no attempt to hide their reluctance. The croc glanced back to Anita's haven, still closed, and reached for a nearby cloth to get started. Mordekai stood beside him, his pace much faster and more practiced.

”We just gotta give 'Nita some time, oke?” His voice was soft against the gentle clatter of stacked plates.

It was Cruz's turn to frown. His hands slowed almost to a stop when he looked at Mordekai, who was turned around while he returned dishes to the cabinets. ”How long?”

”How long?” Mordekai glanced back, ”I dunno... s'not up to me.” He closed the cabinet door. ”S'just however long she needs.”

The croc frowned – he didn't know what to do with that answer. ”I gotta talk to her, though...” His eyes found Mordekai's beneath pleading brows. He set the dry dish down, towel still in hand. ”It's important.”

”Think she's gonna wanna listen to somethin' important when she's that bone-tired?”

Mordekai's smile was sympathetic but it did little to comfort Cruz. His shoulders went slack. ”Dunno...” He did know, but he could hope. ”I guess not... But--” his eyes found the floor, ”--what if we never get to and--” and Anita was mad at him forever.

”I think you're gunna get a chance to. S'just...” Mordekai shrugged, which also wasn't comforting. ”S'just gunna feel like forever, 'cause you love her and wanna make things right, right?”

The nail was hit square on the head with that one. With it, Cruz found difficulty in meeting Mordekai's eye. Both hands clung tightly to the towel; he twisted it between them. He nodded, voice weak. ”I don't want her to hate me...”

”She's not gunna hate you.” Mordekai leaned against the counter. Cruz didn't need to look up to hear the frown in his voice. ”Nita just needs some space. Okay?”

Cruz shook his head slowly. ”Never seen her upset like this... She's really mad at me.” She had to be.

”I haven't either...” Mordekai's answer fell flat, hesitant. ”She might be mad at you... but I don't think she hates you.”

His breath hitched. Knuckles white with how hard he wrung the towel, Cruz tried to swallow the waver in his voice; there was no hiding it. ”I-I dunno...” She told Tristan she didn't hate him but determined she no longer wanted him in her life in the same breath. It seemed inevitable, especially with how hesitant everyone seemed to be around him where touch was concerned.

”Ey...” The croc breathed sharply as Mordekai's hand set upon his shoulder. ”You wanted everythin' good in the world for 'Nita... I get it... I think she gets it too. S'just...” Cruz pulled the towel taut. ”You took on a lot more'n you could, alright?”

That was one way to put it – but he was right. Cruz couldn't disagree with that. ”Just...” he sniffed, ”just want her to know I'm sorry.” But Anita didn't want to hear any of it.

”I know... But y'gotta wait. For her, alright?”

Cruz forced his head up. Mordekai's eyes were drawn to the bedroom door. The sigel waited silently until his attention drew back, blue eyes on his own awful tear soaked ones. There were no fake tears but a part of Cruz hoped the sight might sway Mordekai's opinion, help change his mind. It didn't. Cruz nodded and lowered his head. ”Okay...”

He felt no calm from this but at least his grip on the towel eased.

A small silence followed that only left Cruz to stew, defeated. It was an unwelcome blessing when Mordekai broke it. The man said, ”Ey, Cruz?” quiet as could be. Cruz only murmured at first, to acknowledge him, but lifted his gaze a second later.

The tall freckled man before him smiled and it seemed sincere. He ruffled Cruz's hair. ”I love you. An' I know 'Nita loves you too... everything'll get figured out, oke?”

That was the first time he'd heard it since this whole debacle started. Those three little words riled the croc. He stifled a whine as his face threatened to scrunch up, eyes welled; the towel slipped from his hands, trembling as they held out towards Mordekai in a silent plea. He wanted to just reach forward and cling to the man but Anita's demand not to be touched echoed harshly in his mind. When Mordekai stepped forward, Cruz almost felt like he collapsed. His hands held desperately to the blonde's shirt and it took a great deal of concentration to keep his claws from digging into the fabric.

A warm, soft feeling made Cruz lose his breath. How long had it been since he had been kissed anywhere? Mordekai gifted one to the top of his head and it washed through him like a cool drink of water. It was exactly what he needed and it was what made Cruz unable to choke back his tears.

”Love you lots, Cruz. I'm sorry you're hurtin', but you can make it through.”

”Love you lots...” Cruz wept, weak and tired.

He felt Mordekai lean back to look at him. ”Hey. It's stuffy in here, ain't it? How 'bout we go for a walk?” There was a genuineness to Mordekai's voice that was sorely cherished. Cruz nodded weakly, face wet. His lips quivered with another threat of tears when he caught sight of Mordekai's lopsided smile.

”Um-- yeah...” Cruz sniffed. He wiped his eyes and turned to give the apartment a short once-over. ”Okay.”

Another kiss to his crown. His rune thrummed gratefully. ”Yeah? Wanna take Tango widdus?”

The croc dislodged himself from Mordekai, his goal the blue leash hanging from a hook on the wall beside the door. ”Mhm. He's cooped up, too...”

He heard Mordekai laugh as he followed behind. ”Yeah... We'll leave the dishes for later. Les'go get some fresh air.”

 

[Snoofington]

IV. Aftermath
Day Three & Four

Since his talk with Mordekai, things seemed to move in a bit of a blur. Not because anything changed, not because anything more eventful happened the rest of the day, but because Cruz tried his best to throw himself at anything that would waste time and keep his attention off of the one thing he desperately wanted to do.

He wanted to apologize, that was all, but he had to wait and despite Mordekai trying to explain the croc still didn't entirely understand why. Or rather, he supposed, he had trouble sympathizing. In Anita's shoes, he would have figured an immediate apology would be the best band-aid. That is certainly what he would have wanted, to know as soon as possible that a friend's actions weren't meant to cause pain, yet he was told to leave the wound on his guardian's heart to the air and let it fester until she saw fit to apply her own first-aid. It seemed like too much to him; too much risk of infection, of gangrene soaking into their relationship – a frighteningly high risk of amputation.

It wasn't like he hadn't seen Anita cut an injured piece of her heart out only days before. The threat was all too real.

She was still quiet, as the day passed. Anita kept herself at arm's length from everyone, even neglecting hugs from Minerva. Cruz noticed, though, she wasn't shying away from contact entirely, between light touches to her shoulders from Mordekai and Minerva both; it was him that Anita flinched from, which would promptly draw her back into a dull shell if she was being more talkative beforehand.

This wasn't how he wanted any of it to go and now he could scarcely clean up his own mess.

Cruz spent more time out of the apartment to clear his head. He brought Tango, his DS; they drifted and sat along the beach. While the croc sunned himself, Tango sniffed at other dogs and played fetch, barked at seagulls and pawed at crabs retreating beneath the sand. Summer tourism in Gambino almost made things feel normal again, like before all of this started, and Cruz found himself wishing Tristan never called in the first place.

It felt petty, the more he lingered on it. He tried to assure himself that it was Anita's decision to resume full contact with her father but the line he drew in the sand for her made things so blurry. When did his selfish curiosity end and Anita's own choices begin?

He let her be for the rest of the day, and most of the following. The sigel made no attempts to seek her out or speak with her despite the sickening knot that tightened in his center with every passing hour.

Minerva came home from work early and greeted the boys with a fondness Cruz wanted to cling to. It felt like a lifetime since he could lose himself in a hug. In a kiss. He felt agonizingly detached, like pieces of him were missing, but he tried his best to hold together and appear complete while Minerva and Mordekai prepared dinner.

Through all of the distractions his own flighty mind caused, Cruz hadn't thought twice about his new stomach in relation to food. There was a sour emptiness that swam in his gut which hungered for something as the scent of broiled meat and baked goods filled the apartment, but it felt like such a different sort of hunger from that of his rune. A gnawing hunger that sat unhappily within him until he was offered a slice of chicken.

Since he was born, they were always careful of his intake. Cruz himself had little interest in material food outside of water all these years and stuck solely to his diet of kisses. He took the fork from Minerva and examined the white meat thoroughly with his eyes and nose before taking the plunge. The texture was unexpected but pleasant. It took him a moment to chew it down and get the motion right but the way the flavor lingered when he finished caused a raise of his brows. Tasting others lips was one of his favorite parts of the entire process and, as he sampled more of the meal, Cruz understood why even the same human could taste so wildly different the next time he kissed them.

Some flavors were familiar in passing, like the taste of bread, while others were new. The croc lost himself, for a time, trying new things as they were made ready from chicken to mashed potatoes, green beans, and corn bread. Of the lot, Cruz was far more interested in the chicken while the green beans caused him to recoil.

Dinner itself was quiet, once everything was made. They ate at the table rather than scattered about in their own spaces. Tango was even made a bowl of kibble, chicken breast, and some mash which was placed at one end of the dining table with the chair moved out of the way. Anita sat nearest to Tango and Cruz sat furthest from her, his own plate small and concentrated only with the things he knew he liked. It was a quiet dinner but far from silent. Minerva shared a funny work story about how, at lunch, she accidentally sprayed her coworker with a half shaken soda and Mordekai updated the family on cute, silly things Tango had done since his stay began, as well as similarly adorable tales from home.

It was a lighthearted gathering, one that almost felt like they should have. That helped to ease Cruz's mind and heart, hearing them laugh and seeing them smile, but between it all he couldn't miss the long pauses that said they were all grasping for things to talk about; how desperate they were to stay on a positive track. Compared to a few days ago, things were undoubtedly improved but they were still far from right.

As the night waned and they all settled down, just how forced it all seemed hit Cruz hard in his chest.

 

[Snoofington]

V. Aftermath
Day Five

The silence between them was boring a hole through his chest.

Each hour they spent in the same room, vaguely near one another, and Anita scarcely looked at him unless prompted felt like agony. He knew he had to wait. He didn't think he should have to but he knew he and Anita operated very differently, even if he didn't understand those differences from her perspective. And yet, every time she did speak to him the terseness of it was like a slap across the face.

With Minerva at work and Mordekai taking Tango for a walk along the beachfront, it was just the two of them in the apartment. Cruz wasn't sure just how long ago the two left but Anita made no motions to retreat to the sanctity of the bedroom and away from him so he stayed where he was, as well.

Both of them were ignoring – or pretending to ignore – each other, engrossed in their handhelds. She was laid across the couch, which had since been put away from its bed shape. As Cruz suspected, Mordekai was allowed into the room with Anita to sleep after the first couple days of his stay. Was that a sign of her tending to the wound he caused after all? If it was, it seemed to him she was only treating the area around it while leaving the poisonous barb.

She hardly budged, he noticed from the corner of his eye. It had been a few minutes since he actually did anything in his game, concentration eluding him with Anita here but so silent.

If either of them were going to heal, they at least needed to pull the barb free.

Cruz closed his DS and set it aside. One good thing about not having legs, he supposed, was not needing to push chairs out to escape them and make a racket when things were as tense and quiet as this. His fingers trailed along to the table edge as he drifted forward, eyes on Anita while hers didn't leave the game screen.

”Anita.” Her proper name left his mouth slowly. It felt foreign on his tongue, used only when matters were dire.

This was dire.

She stalled at that, if only a moment, and continued to play. ”Yeah?” She didn't look up.

From there, Cruz didn't know where to go. He at least expected her to glance at him, even for a second, but she didn't and it caused him to pull back. His heart was in his throat, his skin felt prickly and uncomfortable, and that increasingly familiar knot in his gut twisted up. He needed to pull that barb free of her heart but suddenly he felt squeamish.

He swallowed, rubbed his arms. When he didn't respond right away, Anita made a small sound that Cruz couldn't be sure whether it was acknowledgment or dismissal. His nerve dropped out of him; he looked out to the balcony. ”...Never mind.”

There was a few seconds pause before Anita responded. When a flat ”okay” came from her, it drew Cruz's eyes back and the sight of Anita's own hazel-greens meeting them gave him a start. She closed her own screen and that, too, made him flinch.

”Okay...?” he repeated dumbly.

Anita placed the game on the coffee table. ”Let's talk.”

 

[Snoofington]

VI. Aftermath
Still Day Five

Cruz thought that the moment Anita agreed to talk things through with him would be one of relief. Instead, the air hung heavy and the tension between them grew palpable. She didn't stand after pressing her feet to the floor. Anita stayed rooted to the sofa but now that her eyes were on him they didn't leave. He felt exposed.

There had been no rehearsal. Again, in all of his single mindedness, Cruz desperately sought one goal – Anita's acknowledgment – and now that he was here he didn't even know what to do with it.

”I...” The croc fumbled. He looked away, fidgeted, and pressed his claws to his cheek. All this time, he wanted her to look at him so badly but the scrutiny he felt now was too much.

A lump formed in his throat that he couldn't seem to swallow down. ”I'm sorry. I-I'm sorry for all of this.” Cruz breathed unevenly, scared to look at Anita while he felt her eyes on him. ”It was bad... Pushing you. I-I thought-- I wanted to help. Wanted you and your dad to be happy.”

There was more to it than that and Anita's silence told him she knew that much already.

”It's-- it's a bad power.” Cruz's voice shook. ”Thought maybe I could use it for good things... b-but I--” His hands trailed up to cover his face, to hide in shame from one of his best friends in the whole world. ” I don't know how. I don't know how to be good with it or-- or if it even can be good. Just messed everything up worse. So much worse... A-and I kept going. Wanted to fix things. Fix what I messed up.”

That seemed to strike a cord in Anita. She shifted in her seat, turned to face him more, but he still didn't dare look. ”That's not your job.” Her voice was firm, calm. ”It's not up to you to fix my life or anyone else's.”

Cruz shuddered, his own voice wavering. ”I-I know... Didn't mean for this.”

”It doesn't matter what you meant. Not with this. All there is, is what happened.” When he whimpered, Anita sighed. Her tone softened as she continued. ”You can have the best intentions and still make the biggest mess. No one can control things the way you tried to. This power... Cruz. You can tell people what to do but you can't control how they react to it. You can't control their hearts – and you shouldn't try.”

He wanted to speak, to say anything, but all he could muster were weak sounds in the back of his throat. Cruz managed to nod what little agreement he could; he heard the couch groan as Anita relaxed into it. ”S-sorry--” he choked out, ”So sorry, Nita...” He needed to tell her so much more, tell her that he knew he was bad for all of this, that part of the reason he kept going was due to his own selfishness, that he understood that now and it made everything worse, but they all died on his tongue like ash.

”I know you are...”

Anita trailed off, still calm but no longer holding the same weight as before. It gave Cruz just enough courage to peek through his fingers despite the wet blur smearing everything together. She sat with her hands in her lap, head turned to the floor rather than him.

Rubbing his face, Cruz tried to breathe. If she knew he was sorry, was that the same as accepting an apology? He couldn't be sure. The croc inhaled slowly before attempting his approach. When he was halfway to her, at the opposite end of the couch, Cruz raised a hand to reach for her.

She raised her own between them; he halted.

”Don't.”

His heart sank. Things were still the same.

”Nita,” Cruz pleaded weakly, ”I-I'm so sorry... I won't do it again. Don't want to...”

”I believe you.” His breath dropped out of him. Anita turned to face him and the confused pout crossing his wet face. ”But just saying it isn't enough. I need to see it.”

Cruz's brows knit. She claimed to believe him but demanded proof. He didn't understand – and she could tell. ”What you did to me... It was an accident, wasn't it?” At this, his heart leapt. His eyes lit at Anita's merciful comprehension. It wasn't quite a smile but Cruz's lips managed to lift away from the frown that pulled them. After he nodded, Anita continued. ”So you don't have full control over it yet... It can happen even if you don't mean it to.” His hands clasped one another. ”You need to touch people for it to work... so you can't touch me. Not for a while.” Her head lowered, as did her voice. ”I need some time...”

So it was as he feared. The ordeal didn't put Anita off of any and all physical touch but it put a fear, a revulsion of him into her. She believed that he didn't want to do that to her again, or to anyone, but she didn't trust him.

”Nothing...?” Cruz asked quietly.

”Nothing.” The confirmation stung. ”No kisses, no hugs, no hands. Please.” Anita's terms were strict. No kisses meant no feeding. Cruz supposed Anita had always done the bare minimum for him there, with her refusal to kiss him on the lips, but now even that was gone. ”You have a stomach now,” she said, as if picking up on his dejection, ”it won't be so bad.”

Others would feed him, he was sure, and the new availability of other foods would take the edge off, but even the small kisses Anita offered him were a measure of something so much more than just nourishment. It took so long to build up the comfort between them; years for her to willingly feed him of her own free will, without any prompt or request, for it to become second nature. Anita's kisses to his head, they represented her trust in him.

Without them, there was no trust.

”We're back at square one.”

Tristan's words rang inside him like a gong but he didn't dare repeat them. All Cruz could muster in response was a timid, trembling nod and a breath that threatened to give way to tears at any moment.

”O-okay... I won't.”

 

[Snoofington]

VII. Aftermath
Day Six

”It's going to drown.”

Cruz blinked dumbly at Minerva as she came into view. He wasn't sure how long she had been standing in the room with him, much less when she came in.

”What?” Minerva pointed at the potted plant he was floating in front of, spray bottle in hand. It came to Cruz's attention he wasn't sure just how long he had been here, either, spritzing the same plant, but he knew it had taken up nearly a third of the bottle.

He pulled the bottle away. ”S-sorry.”

”You feeling okay?” Her smile was halved by a look of concern.

Cruz failed to give her a fuller one. ”Yeah.” Minerva dipped her head and kept looking at him. ”...No.”

Minerva reached for the bottle. Cruz let her take it and set it aside on the dining table. She held his shoulder and turned the sigel with her as she walked toward the kitchenette. ”Can I make you something” It was an odd thing to hear directed at him and, by the curious waver in Minerva's voice, it was an odd thing for others to ask him when they were so used to his standard diet.

”Ah, sure... Thank you.”

It was quiet in the apartment, with just the two of them. Tango was no doubt leading Anita and Mordekai all around hell's tropical half acre, with it being the first time Anita herself walked the pooch in nearly two weeks. He hoped they would be out for a while still, both because Anita sorely needed it after five days holed up in the apartment but also, regrettably, to keep his distance from her.

Cruz settled against the kitchen counter while Minerva searched the fridge.

”So,” she said as she pulled open the deli meat drawer, ”Talk to me.”

He rubbed one of his arms and glanced to the small window above the sink's back splash. ”It's, um...”

”Anita.” The croc winced. ”Right?”

”Y-yeah...” Minerva let out a thoughtful hum as she collected a few condiments. The fridge door closed with her foot before she drifted to the small pantry for bread. ”Talked to her yesterday.”

Everything was set out on the counter opposite Cruz, leaving Minerva's back to face him. ”And?”

”She's--” The tone of their conversation was difficult for Cruz to put into words but if he had to pick one it would have been “stern”. ”I'm not allowed to hug her... or anything.”

This seemed to make Minerva pause in her sandwich preparation, but only briefly. She waited a few moments for Cruz to continue speaking. When he didn't, she said, ”I can't say I'm surprised.” His eyes moved to the floor. ”At least you can have food like this, now. That should make things easier.”

While a deficit of kisses was certainly something to worry about, that wasn't what weighed most heavily on Cruz's mind about the situation. Anita said almost the same thing when she laid down her rules and this time, too, he struggled with the idea.

”I-I know... It's just--” His hands found his cheeks. ”I did... a really bad thing, and I'm-- I-I'm scared, 'Nerva.” Cruz's voice cracked; he didn't dare look up from the kitchen tiles.

Minerva stopped in the middle of spreading mayonnaise on a slice of bread. She looked over her shoulder at him and set the knife down. ”What are you scared of, sweetheart?” Her voice was soft. It made Cruz's eyes heavy.

He drew in a few ragged breaths. ”That– th-that 'Nita w-wants me to go away....” His chest heaved as he tried to hold together, to push down the welling in his eyes and the knot in his stomach. ”Like her d-dad.” Cruz all but choked as his hands covered his wet eyes.

The only sound he heard before Minerva finally approached him was the drumming of his own pulse in his ears. She wrapped her wide arms around him and guided his head to her shoulder. Cruz buried his face there and clutched to Minerva's shirt through her gentle sway. Despite the difficulty, he had tried so hard not to cry too much in front of Anita, in front of Mordekai, but while the blond had certainly been comforting there was a different kind of soothing to a mother's touch that, rather than bring him back from the precipice of emotion, made it easier to relent. Cruz clung to Minerva; her shirt soaked in the crocodile's tears and muffled his cries while she stroked his hair and rocked him like he was a baby.

He undoubtedly felt like one, with how many tears he had shed since this all came to a head. Cruz was no stranger to his own waterworks but he could scarcely recall crying so much, and in such rapid succession.

”You know,” Minerva spoke gently once Cruz's wails had settled into hiccups, ”Tristan's had more than one 'last straw', with her.” His brows creased. Cruz wasn't sure what she meant but, between hiccups, all he could muster was a small whine. ”What I mean is, even when she's hurt and tired, Anita tries to be fair. Her father made a lot of mistakes but, even when he upset her, she would give him chances to make up for it. She wanted him in her life – and I can tell, she wants you there too.”

Trembling, Cruz didn't dare pull away from Minerva. He didn't have the strength to look her in the eyes, not yet, but he turned his head against her shoulder so he could speak clearly. ”H-how? Can you tell?”

A small kiss to his crown brightened his rune but did little to soothe him.

”Well, she wouldn't have set boundaries with you if she didn't want to talk to you anymore, for one.” That made the croc blink. ”You saw how dismissive she was on the phone with her dad a few times, right?” It took Cruz a moment to recall the earliest days of this predicament, when Anita first answered and spoke to her father in front of him. She flat out told the man she didn't want to talk to him, would scarcely let him get a word in edgewise while trying to end the call. ”Nobody enjoys confrontation like that but Anita wouldn't mislead you, Cruz. She likes to be clear. She is hurting right now but Anita's not writing you off... She's giving you a chance to rebuild her trust.”

Cruz's breath came shallow as he listened. It was a difficult concept for him to embrace, even despite seeing it in action – despite attempting to orchestrate it himself; that something negative and hurtful wasn't the worst thing that could happen, that it wasn't the end and could be repaired.

A soft hand rubbed his scaled skin between his fins. ”It'll take time... You need to be patient with her.” Mordekai said much the same. He wanted to be, wanted to be helpful and supportive, but leaving things unaddressed made the air feel heavy and like there was a wall of noise between him and Anita that was impossible to ignore. ”She knows you meant well.”

His breath hitched. Cruz hid his face again, fingers holding tight to the fabric of Minerva's short sleeves. The more he heard from others that he meant well, the more it stung. While part of his motivations were geared to make things better, to bring happiness and repair something damaged, Cruz knew that wasn't the whole truth. From day one, he treated this matter as a selfish endeavor driven more than a desire to help.

Though he managed to give Minerva a muffled ”thank you”, Cruz still felt the uncomfortable drum of his heart and an unpleasant sensation in his stomach. Her words built extensively on the foundation Mordekai laid out for him just days prior and gave the croc a shelter from the relentless worries that so badly wanted to tear him down, but in that solace he knew things weren't finished. He needed to speak to Anita again, when she was willing. He needed to tell her what he was too weak to lay bare before. There were still things he needed to address, that needed apology, and if he wanted things to be right between them Cruz would have to expose himself fully to the elements – and Anita's scrutiny.

 

[Snoofington]

VIII. Aftermath
Day Seven & Eight

The apartment was a little quieter today.

Mordekai had gone home, picked up by Duncan on his way back from Rebecca's. The previous day, Cruz and Mordekai spent out running errands to give Anita some peace. It was nice to get out of the house again. Cruz had been so restless but, at the same time, uncertain of leaving their building without request.

They picked up an assortment of things to cook for dinner on his last day. Breakfast food, Cruz knew, was dearly appreciated by Anita and it made him smile that they were forgoing any sort of meal time tradition by having it for dinner. Food always seemed to brighten Anita's mood, so the croc was eager to help in its preparation – and, admittedly, to taste even more things.

It was an odd transition and, for now, one without balance. He received stray kisses here and there but none so much as he used to for the past week which meant he had to fill in the blanks of his diet physically.

While some food he found delicious and others less so, Cruz still found his preference in another's lips.

Now that Mordekai was gone, Anita was due back to work tomorrow and Cruz felt his chest tighten. He was running out of time. The talk he had with Minerva helped ease him in many ways but it brought other pressing matters to light, matters that he couldn't afford to push aside and be forgotten. And yet, once again, Cruz found himself stuck somewhere between restlessness and inaction.

It was a little afternoon now and Minerva was at her own work, which left the apartment to themselves. Though they hadn't outright ignored one another, he and Anita had given each other a wide berth since this morning.

One way or another, Cruz had to take the plunge. After much deliberation he attempted a more delicate approach than his first.

”Hey,” he approached softly with two glasses of juice in hand.

Anita was on the couch with her feet propped up on a corner of the coffee table. The TV was going with commercials, which made him feel better about interrupting. She glanced to him and immediately set eyes on the second glass. ”Oh, hey. Thank you.” He held it out to her with a wordless smile.

When she took a sip, he relaxed – if only a little. ”Did you sleep okay?”

”Not too bad, yeah.” After another drink, Anita leaned forward to set the glass on the table. When she settled back, Anita didn't look at the TV again; her eyes glued to him as his nails clinked uncomfortably against his glass. ”What's up?”

”Uh–“

The temptation to cease now and bail when they were on an amiable note was strong. Anita, for her part, seemed in decent spirits and he didn't want to ruin that. At the same time, she gave him a receptive opening and it was unlikely he would have such a chance again today. ”Can we talk...? Again.”

Her brow quirked. Cruz grimaced.

She reached for her cup. ”Yeah, we can talk.”

Cruz sighed, somewhere between relief and apprehension. ”Thank you... Um.” The hardest part was always finding where to begin. ”I'm-- I'm really sorry.”

”I know you are,” Anita said softly. Her brows were knit, concerned and confused. ”You already apologized, remember?”

”This is for something else...” That wiped the concern right off Anita's face. Her expression shifted, tense, and Cruz felt his resolve weaken. ”I keep thinking about it and... the more I do, I--” His mouth felt dry but he refused to take a drink. ”I-I thought I did all those things because I wanted to help... a-and I did want to, I really did, it's just... that wasn't the only reason.”

Finally he sipped his drink, eyes cast aside. He expected Anita to say something but, when she remained quiet, Cruz looked back and found her eyes still trained on him. ”Nita, I-I wanted to know more about you, your family. Things you don't really talk about... Was curious, so I pushed... and it wasn't right.”

His eyes fell again. It was hard to look her in the eye as he said these things but he had to keep going, for both of their sakes if Minerva was right. ”Wanted you to be happy with your dad again, I really really did, but... It was really selfish. It's wrong. I-I can't make people tell me stuff like that... It's just as bad as making them do things.” Cruz swallowed. ”So... if-- if you don't want to tell me something, you don't have to. I won't do it again... I'm sorry.”

Silence fell after his apology and Cruz could feel his heart climbing toward his throat. He didn't look at Anita again, not yet, and instead kept his eyes locked on his orange juice.

”Promise?”

It came out so quiet, Cruz thought he imagined it. Even if he had, he didn't dare take a chance. ”Promise.” Only then did he allow himself to peek.

Anita, herself, looked into her cup rather than him. Her mess of bangs made it difficult to see her eyes but the gentle curve of her lips was unmistakable. She smiled. ”Thank you.”

His next breath left slowly. The quiet no longer felt stifling but comfortable. Cruz nodded, awkwardly, with a small smile of his own, and turned toward the kitchenette.

”Um, hey.” He looked over his shoulder. ”Do you want to play Mario Kart?”

Cruz drifted slightly, as if off balance. His smile wobbled, as did his vision, and he was quick to rub his eyes. A timid laugh escaped him. ”Yes, please.”

 

[Snoofington]

Days Gone By
I will never catch up otherwise, please bear with me.

September 2015
Things feel a little lighter and more positive since Cruz laid everything out on the table. Anita's boundaries are still set as they are but he is trying to work with them and she seems more at ease because of it. They're still nowhere near the casual comfort they had before but they're doing much better than immediately following his growth. Aina and Cruz's birthdays fall in close proximity, which makes things a lot happier across the board. Aina's is celebrated at the Clarke-Kantor house and Cruz's at the apartment but both families attend. And there was much rejoicing.

October 2015
On Mordekai's recommendation and some discussion with Anita and Cruz, they attend an anxiety support group. It is only for one session but it manages to put a lot of things into perspective for Cruz about how he deals with stress and other negative situations. They suggest more positive coping methods and he tries to take some of the lessons to heart but it is a learning process. Through the rest of the month, Cruz and Aina prepare for their second Halloween together. They go trick-or-treating by themselves through the apartment complex. Cruz tries a bunch of different candy for the first time and makes himself sick from eating too much all at once.

November 2015
Cruz touches base with Leigh about the job offer at her novelty store, The Shy Violet, mentioned months ago. He is enthusiastic about the prospect, but will need time to get acquainted with the place and with Leigh a bit more before they can move forward. He also needs better energy management skills during the winter months if he hopes to be productive in a job at all. After some extended quiet, Cruz receives word that Ethiriel is recovering from eye surgery and schedules a visit at her home.

 

[Snoofington]

Differences
starring Cruz & Ethiriel

With Ethiriel well on recovery from her eye surgery, Cruz pays her a long overdue visit.