All around us, images took shape. I saw a lot of faces I didn’t recognize. Groups, crowds…

And then a dip, almost a crater, but diamond-shaped.

As Chicken Little approached it, I could see the scene unfold.

Chicken Little, much smaller and younger, sitting in a tiny kitchen in a narrow house.

And with him was a girl with a tumble of black hair, wearing a tank top and pyjama bottoms. Round spectacles.

I recognized her from videos. The cafeteria. Announcements on behalf of the Protectorate.

Little Aiden sat on a stool, and Taylor Hebert, Skitter, Khepri, gave him a mug of what might have been hot chocolate, before sitting beside him, rubbing his back.

Seeing her spooked me… but I wasn’t getting the impression this was any sort of key to bringing her back. This wasn’t what the Undersiders were gunning for.

No, just… important, but important to Aiden for other reasons.

He walked through the other side, looking at reflections, and left the crater empty as he climbed over the lip.

I approached the crater, and let my feet slide on the steep edge.

It was my mother, holding a swaddled baby. Her eyes full of warmth and exhaustion.

It was my Uncle Neil, playing with an infant me. He sat cross legged, pushing me over, knocking me off balance, and messing with me. Sparring, on the most basic level.

And Dean. Beautiful, sweet Dean, walking beside me.

I watched the scenes change, rotating.

Is this you?

There was only one thing connecting those people to me.

Fragile One?

Only one sentiment.

I blinked rapidly, and then wiped away tears.

One place, that all of these feelings and connections had come from, at least at these points in time.

Something ‘clicked’.

I was so stupid, fighting it all this time, being so guarded. It had saved me, but I’d still kept walls up. Thinking that was where it started and stopped.

I unfurled my forcefield.

It stopped at my skin.

I pushed it out further, then pulled it in again.

I love you too, I thought.

Infrared 19.9

“Oh my god, you are so annoying!”

“No I’m not.”

“You’re not? Oh, I’m sorry, I must be mistaken about how I’m ready to strangle you!”

“I’m not doing anything!”

“You’re following me. I walk into a room and you’re two steps behind me.”

“Where am I supposed to go?”

“Your room? Anywhere else?”

“Crystal.”

Crystal turned away in a huff.

“Come and talk to us in the kitchen?” Aunt Sarah asked.

Eric retreated into the living room, plunking himself down into a chair, slumping down so his arms were up on the armrest, feet on the floor, and his upper body stretched along the seat, chin against collarbone.

He looked at us without moving his head.

“What’s up?” I asked.

He shrugged.

“How’s she doing?” I asked.