Gone Astray (Open]

[ARTISAN KIM]

Oddities scrambled to find Artie before the naieve shapeshifter had himself kidnapped or killed, whichever came first. He'd been missing for around twenty-four hours, and he'd been extra careful to avoid being discovered. Nobody was entirely sure what caused him to run away, but they had a guess: The previous night at dinner, conversation had turned to the topic of parents and guardians. Someone had asked Artie about his parents -if he had any - and that's when things got weird.

He'd dropped his fork and looked up with a funny expression, somewhere between confusion and needing to throw up. Then, he excused himself to use the bathroom...only, he never came back. Circo had been searching for him ever since.
They knew he could hunt to eat and had the survival skills of any animal he pleased, but they were more concerned about him accepting candy from strangers or taking rides in scary-looking vans.

Artie actually wasn't too far from Circo; he sat on the outskirts of town, on the edge of the dusty road he'd taken that helped lead him to the circus in the first place. He sat up straight, but occasionally twitched in restlessness and whimpered. Teddy dangled from his mouth and also seemed to stare down the road.

Artie had a very big decision to make.

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[P. J. UMBERMAN]

In hushed nothingness an entity drifted through the barren outskirts of the circus. Lights and activity faded to obscurity the further the creature went, the peculiar civilization becoming nothing but faded white noise. The creature had to leave his home temporarily behind as he was given a mission- to track down a missing oddity.

For once, his gift was of actual use. He was charged with stealth, to find an oddity without them knowing he was there. The only thing he had to do? Not wear clothes and go into the open. PJ, the resident invisible boy, was ideal for these types of jobs. He of course was promised a decent award for his efforts in corralling back the stray freak. That wasn't his motivation, however. Not the honor, not the power of taking down another oddity, but for the potential to see what could possibly be wrong. He didn't care that he ran away, who could blame him? He just... Everyone was here for a reason. And for some, the past was just a bit more agonizing.

Only after an hour of searching he heard the thump of a tail that had to be his. He was a chimera, right? Yes. He leaped over the ditch, and approached him softly from behind. He didn't want to scare him, but that of course was a possibility.

"Artie?" A soft voice mumbled out, its origin masculine. "Is that you?"

[ARTISAN KIM]

Artie tensed up, ready to spring from danger if need be. He panicked for a moment, struggling to identify PJ; his eyes widened in fright and searched wildly for the voice's owner, his nose kicked into overdrive as he tried to recognize the scent, and he froze on the spot as he strained his ears to listen. Well. It sounded and smelled like PJ, so it must've been PJ -- or at least, that's what the chimera reasoned. Artie relaxed, knowing that the invisible boy wouldn't hurt him. Unfortunately for PJ, Artie wasn't in the mood to greet him. No jumping, shouting, licking, or the usual hugs for his "brother's" boyfriend.

"No it's not," huffed Artie, "So go away." He crossed his arms and turned his back on PJ -- or at least where he thought PJ would be. "Leave me alone," he said, "I don't wanna talk."

Artie looked down to his teddy-bear, which he'd dropped in fright when PJ came. Gently, he scooped up the ratted toy and set it on his lap. "Are you still here?" he asked, "What do you want?"

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[P. J. UMBERMAN]

PJ was slightly taken back at Artie's anger, though he tried to not show it. It's not like he could anyway. He frowned slightly, and did back up to give the poor guy space. He obviously didn't want to be talked to, and PJ wasn't going to make the situation better by questioning him. He walked in front of him, footprints in the cold sand alerting him to where he was. "Well, gee, I... I know you don't wanna talk, and I understand... But you're upset, and..." How was he going to approach this? He had talked to grumpy oddities before, and pretty much mastered calming down Carter when he was angry. He couldn't compare the two, though. It wasn't fair to either if he did so. Even still, both had faced an upbringing from a lab. That much he was positive of.

"You dropped your teddy." He whispered, the bear seemingly floating up from the ground. His voice was filled with this uncertainty, the kind comparable to a puppy wanting to be accepted. PJ was a glutton for belonging, as well as punishment. Hopefully messing with this potentially dangerous oddity would tend in the latter.

[ARTISAN KIM]

In the evening glow, Artie looked very much like a brooding, pouting twelve year-old. Not to mention, he was about as harmless as a tween too. Despite his abilities ranking him a "danger", Artie was no threat to either human or oddity. The neighborhood pigeons feared him, but only during mealtimes.

"Thank you," he said quickly, reaching for the bear. Artie was all too eager to have the toy wrapped safely in his arms. Let's be honest: floating kids' toys were the thing of nightmares! Even if the gesture was nice, it was still a little eerie. So, Artie scooped Teddy back into his arms and lost track of where PJ stood. It made Artie feel...lost. Well, more lost than he actually was.

"PJ? I lied," he said quietly, "I don't want to be left alone. Can you...can you stay here?" Artie fell quiet again. The tone in PJ's voice made Artie feel guilty for having been so aggressive earlier. Finally, he mustered up the courage to talk -- even if only a little -- with the invisible man.

"I want to go home, but home is a bad place."

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[P. J. UMBERMAN]

With his acceptance of the stuffed animal, PJ felt a bit of relief from doing something to consider talking to him. Good, that was a good sign, right? He looked down to the chimera as he seemed to calm from his former whiplash, which accumulated to a point of actually inviting him to talk. A faint smile touched PJ's lips, though it wasn't to last long on the account of the tension and worry that seemed to be poisoning the air. Tone and word delivery were everything to him. PJ had a knack for telling how one felt just by the infliction of their words, even with the faintest of speech. His desolation from what appeared to be loneliness was what ultimate brought the invisible boy in.

"Of course." PJ assured, sitting across from him in a cross-legged fashion. His tone had switched from anxious searcher to a calm mediator. He looked up to Artie as he explained his predicament, his single sentence just enough to get the point across. By this, the invisible man retuned the statement with an equally simple question.

"Why do you want to go home?"

[ARTISAN KIM]

Life confined within a laboratory was the only life Artie ever knew. What he was capable of describing sounded like a nightmare to most, but was perfectly normal to Artie. In fact, sometimes he could safely say he preferred life as an experiment. Change is always difficult, but Artie was still adjusting to the fact an entire world rested outside his familiar cells and cages. The taste of freedom was as scary as it was addicting.

"I'm homesick," he said, struggling to explain himself, "I love everyone here, but I also love everyone at home -- even though I'm not supposed to. And I'm glad that I ran away, but I feel guilty for abandoning my family and my masters and...I'm...confused."

Artie wriggled uncomfortably, shaking off some invisible pest. He'd never really been given a chance to talk about how he felt before. "Lilly gets upset if I tell her that I'm homesick," he added, "And Carter just gets mad. I don't know what I'm allowed to feel."

He looked down.

"I'm sorry."

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[P. J. UMBERMAN]

PJ looked to Artie with an undetermined facial expression as he tried to comprehend the oddity's emotions. He was truly in the middle of a tug-o-war of loyalties. On one hand, he had the lab from which he was born and raised, albeit apathetically. On the other hand he had a new home previously foreign to him, that, while promising him happiness and permanent sanctum, was not what he had become accustomed to him. He was feeling guilt from those whose only purpose was to create and display him. He was in distress over who and what truly mattered. At the moment, he was leaning towards what one would usually consider unfathomable in terms of consideration.

But P.J. understood.

Lilly, who loved Artie, and Carter, who shared his pain. Those two were probably the most influential to him? Carter was raised with the labs, however. His strife and years of horrendous memories came from having his rightful life /stolen/ from him. Was Artie that much different? Of course, it seemed Carter got the shorter end of the stick when it came to his lab experience. PJ knew that for fact, as he had dropped everything on multiple occasions to console and tend to the emotional scars that his personally-abstained-from dearest possessed. Nonetheless Artie was raised with the lab- the violence, the nonexistent humanity, the depraved morals... That was home to him. And only time could determine whether or not that truth would hold up if given a proper substitute.

"You don't have to apologize..." PJ whispered, a pained smile at the brink of his voice. "You... You have a right to feel this way... And your confusion... It's understandable Artie, I swear." PJ bit his lip, finding a way to voice his thoughts into comfort. PJ looked at him with unseen eyes keeping indirect contact with him. "It's overwhelming, I know. I can't speak from any experience, or know exactly what is going on in your mind. I do know that your old life still holds a strong bond to you, right?" He paused to take a breath. "You don't have to tell me Artie, I just think that talking things out helps a bit, y'know? I won't tell a soul... I swear." Though his usual tone had slipped through, his voice had given his most serious potential when it came to confidential information. "So... Without the influence of others, the Circo or people from the lab, what exactly do you think you feel? You can tell me anything, I promise that I won't judge."

[ARTISAN KIM]

“You really won't tell anyone?” he asked softly, “Promise? I don't want to be yelled at.” Between twiddling his thumbs and nervous chewing on the ear of his teddy-bear, it didn't take a genius to see how the conversation made Artie uncomfortable. He took a deep breath, resisted the urge to flee, and forced himself to talk. PJ said it would help, right? And PJ wouldn't lie to him, right? “Lately, I've started remembering more about what life at the labs was like,” he admitted, “And everything I learned there is different than what everyone is teaching me here and...and I don't know who to believe. I love both there and here equally!”

With a sigh, he flopped backwards and stared at the darkening sky. “Maybe I'm being silly. There's no way I could keep living in a lab anyway. Once you're passed thirty, you usually get terminated so there's room for the next bunch of chimeras. The only problem is that they invested too much money into making me, so they needed a way to earn back what they'd spent before I reached the cut off age. The military didn't want me because of something about a 'docile temperament' and the scientists already had run their DNA tests and stuff to make more of me, so they decided to pass me off as a...”

Artie trailed off and sighed. Was there a less embarrassing way to explain this? “They called me a 'companion', but that's a fancy name for a toy,” he said, “And there was this lady that wanted me really, really badly. I remember the first time she visited, it was because her husband wanted the military-trained experiments for security and bodyguards. I was really little then, but I told her that her husband smelled like eleven different ladies. She thought it was funny, even though I felt really sad that she had to share the guy she loved.”

He smiled at the memory, even if he seemed a little hurt by it.

“I ran away because I didn't want to keep living under other people. But I keep thinking: would it really have been so bad? She was a really nice lady, always bringing me books and toys and things. Must've liked me a lot to pay all that money. And spend all that time with me, even though I was gonna runaway in the end.”

He looked down.

"I feel really, really guilty."

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[P. J. UMBERMAN]

With Artie's hint at a story, PJ nodded solemnly before mumbling a stern "I promise.". Even if he would be asked later by his superiors about his findings, he wouldn't tell them. Though his mission was to find Artie and discover why he had run away, he was going to avoid telling them anything as much as possible. They wouldn't force him to tell right? He hated lying. Hopefully this scenario wasn't going to come to that.

As Artie began to speak, PJ pulled up his knees and rested his head upon them. He folded his hands by his feet, thus adding in another print to the sand. He knew to hold off all comments until he was over, which is what he did. Slowly, patches of Artie's past had started to come in a never-before-seen light. And, within the first few words of his story, a sense of absolute sorrow for him began to gnaw at his insides. His lab was not at all pleasant, much like he suspected. It wasn't /fair/, really, to create life in such an extraordinary way just to treat it like some disposable... Thing. PJ couldn't think of a better word for it, as beyond his blank facade was an incomprehensible form of horrification. Though, in an unforgivably twisted sense of the word, Artie was apparently one of the lucky ones. Since his existence was of pure monetary value in the eyes of these scientists, he at least had a chance to be treated slightly differently. And, even then, he was sold off as yet another object to someone with a sick sense of amusement and undeserving amounts of money. This woman... She used him for amusement, saw him as a pet... Or, was that a child? Did she... How much did she /really/ value him? That was the question. But, nevertheless, she meant a good deal to him. She took care of him in a more 'human' fashion. Buying him things, taking time just to play with him, and using him to find a bit of happiness since she possessed what appeared to be a disgraceful/detached husband. Sort of... Sort of like a mother.

And that's when it hit him.

Now, PJ didn't want to jump to conclusions, or make any sort of hurtful assumptions. But, in a saddening analogy, Artie was in an abusive relationship. PJ didn't want to assume this, but, if he was correct, here were the facts. He wanted to go back to a place that would only hurt him, he insisted that he loved the labs even though (by his own testimonies) he didn't have the best of times, and, most importantly, there was that one shred of hope for redemption in his relationship. That was the lady, right? PJ glanced at Artie's teddy, wondering if it was 'her' doing. That was the only thing that reminded him of home. The only thing he had left. What did it really symbolize? All of these thoughts confused the invisible man as he tried to comprehend everything. Following a few seconds of collection, PJ opened up once more after quite the hiatus.

"You're not being silly..." He first addressed from a few minutes ago. "We all want to feel loved as much as possible, right?" PJ sighed deeply before continuing. "I know you know that many people care about you here very much. And your heart's in the right place. Those who've shown care to you, those who've shown you a gift of kindness, you feel attached to, right?" Referring to the woman, PJ smiled. "I get that." Why would anyone want to abandon someone who showed a bit of light in such an awful place? Only if something else, something more powerful than kindness had done something to hurt him. The lab was just that, right? "If she loved you... Maybe... She understood. She was like a mother to you... Mothers understand those sort of things." Was he right to assume that? He hoped so. PJ didn't want to make him more upset, though he had to be told that going back to the lab would end up making him unhappy again. And PJ couldn't stand that thought.

[ARTISAN KIM]

The silence after his story frightened Artie; he squeezed the bear, as though drawing comfort from somewhere deep within the toy's stitched up heart. Would PJ hit him? Would PJ be mad? The chimera curled in on himself, making himself appear smaller, as he waited for the verdict. Only when PJ spoke up with a hint of a smile in his voice – or at least from what Artie could tell –, then Artie relaxed. The fear of being hit for doing something wrong would take awhile to abolish. He still shrank back in fear if an Oddity tried to give him a high-five or raised their hands too quickly. “Is that wrong?” he asked quickly, “If I want her to be my mother?”

Artie blushed when he realized how childish his request was. In a moment of embarrassment, he lowered his head so PJ wouldn't be able to see his face. “Not that I want to be a little kid,” he clarified, “Nobody wants to be dependent all of their life! I want to do things on my own, and I know you don't need a mother for that.” Now, Artie squirmed from embarrassment and frustration; the way he phrased his thoughts trivialized the situation, making him sound like a child who didn't want to grow up. That's definitely not what Artie wanted PJ to think! “It's just that...I...” he stammered.

In addition to frustration, Artie's voice grew in volume as well. “Everyone here treats me like a stupid little kid and everyone there treats me like a stupid little dog!” he yelled, “I want people to treat me like Artie!” He hurled the bear into the road, where the ratted toy fell rejected and collected dust. A growl bubbled in Artie's throat, but he didn't bother to suppress it. Nobody but PJ was there with him...and PJ promised not to tell. Maybe it was okay to be angry with himself and other people, just this once. It was okay to feel things. It was okay to be confused and upset. Most of all, it was okay to not hide how he felt in order to make others happy. “I don't belong anywhere!” he snarled.

What wasn't okay was his escalating anger. Was there anything nearby for him to kill? Bashing his fists against sand and dirt wasn't as satisfying as sinking his teeth into some fleshy animal or wrestling a creature to the ground so he could snap its neck. Carter and him were similar in that way at least: when they were angry, they let out the beast. And Artie seemed to be letting it out – or at least, long-suppressed rage at his situation. The more memories that came back to him, the angrier he became. Artie attempted to speak, but he was too enraged to form the proper words. He dug his claws into the sand, ignored the gash on his lower lip from having all his teeth sharpen to piranha points, and breathed heavily. The veins and muscles in Artie's arms bulged as he tensed up, the chimera looking ready to spring on the next animal – or invisible man – to move within three feet of him.

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[P. J. UMBERMAN]

Eons before it happened PJ could tell that Artie was about to break down. He knew a certain tension had intertwined with his voice to ultimately become a bitter sort of confusion. Still, PJ had to try to calm him down with a nervous smile. "Of course not Artie, it's perfectly natural to-"

In a matter of seconds Artie went from morally confused to frustratingly enraged. PJ didn't have a breath to catch him between his words, a fact that wasn't at all aided by the shakiness now starting to crack at his calm exterior. "Artie it's okay I understand you don't have to-" That was cut off with the poor chimera's flustered behavior. Why didn't he think it was okay to have a mother figure? Big kids needed maternal support, too! Kids these days took parents for granted. Many here at Circo... Well, they understood this, too. So many families have been lost to the citizens. Assumably, PJ's have been as well...

In a desperate attempt to shake off these thoughts PJ attempted to reach out to him again. "Artie please no don't think that Artie please..." PJ stammered, his mind now racing in a terrified frenzy. He had seen Carter's potential as a beast when he was angry. He wasn't going to lie to himself and say that the saber tooth didn't plague him with heavy sorrow as well as pure terror when he got like this. He had never seen Artie angry before... And he didn't know what to do. PJ tried to give him a touch of comfort, but with Artie's ultimate whiplash following the screech of his true loneliness, he couldn't even muster a scream.

That rage. That pure, animalistic rage. God, how many times has he seen that? Carter had been a bad boy when he first came to the circus. A really bad boy. His new DNA had once taken over his mind in some scenarios, showing PJ what horrible things those scientists have done to him. It scared PJ, but more than looking in the jaws of a monster itself. It scared him to see that someone once secretly kind, benevolent and warm had been altered by sorrow. Of course, this side of the cat had come out more recently as he adjusted himself more to the circus. But Artie... Artie had just been bottling up this sadness, masking it off with that sort of goofy bliss that he knew Carter (and many) liked. At the same time, this facade had brought him trouble and false accusations. And nobody seemed to notice this except for those who really cared about him, those who saw past his mask and saw the valued being underneath.

It was time that PJ showed that he did.

PJ realized he had nothing to be afraid of when it came to Artie. His anger was scary, but it still wasn't out of total malice, was it? PJ backed up, eyes tracing to a bit of steel lodged in the desert rocks. He bit his lip as he formulated a controversial idea, but it was one that /could/ work all the same. Gently, PJ picked up this fragment, the bit seemingly floating in air. He clasped his hands around it and took a deep breath. A flash of agony rattled through his skull as the fragment's texture began to spill out and paint over a human form. Like liquid metal the texture splashed over PJ's body, revealing his lesser used ability. His body was no visible, but no skin details, colors, or surfaces were shown. PJ opened his blank eyes and traced him to Artie. He crossed his legs in embarrassment as he was, well, naked. Luckily he pretty much knew how to cover this up without anything handy. He scooted closer to Artie, his right steel-coated hand making a finger over his lips in a 'shh' fashion. In this form Artie probably couldn't hurt him. Which was perfect.

"Artie, please, listen to me." He said sternly, though with a calmness in his voice. "You're entitled to feel confused... To feel hurt, to feel unsure. It's okay Artie... You can be angry, it's a lot, I know..." He scooted closer, though kept at least an arm's distance. "If it makes you feel any better, you can hurt me. It's okay, I understand. I... I don't think I'll feel it. So go ahead. You've been bottling up everything for so long... Please, just do it..." PJ offered in a low voice, no longer looking at him. Sometimes a release of aggression was good, right?

[ARTISAN KIM]

The strike lacked hesitation or restraint. The attack was a vulnerable, raw moment for Artie that humans were never supposed to see. Nothing but an undulated, beastly rage supplied power behind each snarl and howl. At first, the creature attacking PJ could be mistaken for a slasher film's monster – or maybe a very angry, very feral Carter. Sounds bubbling from his throat were inhuman, black hatred glistened in his eyes, and the way he clawed at the throat and vitals on instinct belonged in a nightmare. The metal casing around PJ was holding up poorly, already denting and cracking at the sheer force Artie exalted. Anything spoken during those first few minutes of pure anger were lost upon Artie; he could neither hear nor listen to reason in his state. The only thing that spoke to him, that told him to stop, was when he'd wrapped his jaws around PJ's forearm. The crunch of steel sounded, and Artie backed off.

The chimera took a few, frightened steps backwards once the true weight of what he'd done crashed down on him. He wobbled from the dizziness; blood rushed to his head, but so did an onslaught of heightened senses he wasn't prepared for. It wasn't entirely Artie's fault persay, that he couldn't control himself. The way he'd been designed was to ensure that he wouldn't stop until his target was dead or his higherups gave him new orders. Unfortunately for the scientists – and fortunately for PJ – Artie's emotions got in the way and always had him stop, though sometimes in the nick of time.

Wordlessly, Artie turned back with his tail tucked between his legs. It wasn't because he was ashamed of what he'd done, but rather, he was ashamed that he'd enjoyed it so much. Deep in his heart, Artie knew he never should've made that first move. He was the boy who cried when he stepped on ants, who giggled at kittens and puppies...he wasn't a boy that nearly kills his friends. He took a few steps out into the open road, where he scooped up the teddy-bear and hugged the toy close. The bear smelled like Lilly, since she'd used her clothes to repair the original damages. And it was...comforting, to have her scent nearby.

He returned to PJ with his head down and an apologetic whimper. Part of him wouldn't mind diving back into the fray, but Artie knew in his heart that he was done dealing with his aggression that way. “PJ?” he whispered, voice shaking.

What did he want to ask? To say? Artie found himself without explanation, capable of doing nothing but repeating his friend's name over and over again. "PJ?"

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[P. J. UMBERMAN]

Maybe Artie would take just a swipe or two at his face. Maybe he would tackle him to the ground and growl threateningly to him until he felt better. Maybe he'd just say no. These thoughts are what PJ considered. Artie was angry, but he wasn't too angry, right?

PJ had never been more wrong in his life.

The now visible boy couldn't help but to scream as he was pressed down and began to get butchered. The steel surrounding his body was strong, but Artie was so much stronger. He had underestimated him, and now PJ had to pay the price. Curled up in a fetal position PJ laid helplessly against his attacker. In his mind he had virtually promised him that Artie could do anything to him, therefore he did not once retaliate or defend himself. He watched in growing agony as the boy began to tear into his body, screeches of shredding metal adding to the abstract sort of anguish he was experiencing. He couldn't distinguish what was worse- the sounds of his own body decimating or Artie's wild noises of monstrosity. The pain, the noises, the physical shock and the emotional turmoil had climaxed to a point in which his vision had started to fade. Blackness creeped around the edges of his consciousness until the snarling face of his friend had closed him out of his awake state.

--
Only after Artie had stopped attacking and had slumped over to his teddy had PJ awakened once more, his focus blurry. Why was he feeling... Strange? Bits and pieces of a few minutes before had lingered following his brain's desperate attempts to purge the trauma. He could still feel his body being overtaken with the sensation of hellfire, but he tried to ignore that. Where... Where was Artie? His eyes drifted open to see that he returned, his normal state back in gear. Out of instinct unfortunately PJ cowered under him, a sign that he was now terrified. PJ wasn't... Scared though... Was he? He couldn't be terrified of Artie... But at the same time, he couldn't help but to think things tweaked a bit in his mind.

PJ slowly breathed as he realized he was still alive, one of his eyes shut due to the massive gash overlaying it. One thing that he forgot to inform Artie: the metal was still his skin. The textures transferred over with whatever physically alterations it had were to be kept on his real invisible skin. In short, whatever damage done here was surely going to do some damage to him. PJ tried to gurgle out the chimera's name, but his throat wouldn't make the noise. Slowly PJ lifted his hand to his throat. Not only was he created with a sear of pain, but it felt like something warm... Oh no.

PJ looked down to see that black-colored liquid had pooled around his head, looking like darker liquid metal. PJ tried to gasp, but ended up looking like he was going to choke. He couldn't breath. He tried to sit up, but ended falling back down. The gashes around the rest of his body were deep enough to do the same thing, cumulating into a growing pool.

He looked at Artie in authentic terror, unable to suppress it any more. His shoulders heaved as he tried to take a breath, but ultimately that failed him. He grasped onto his friend's shoulders as he tried to beg him for help with a loose and ultimately failing grip.

What had he done.

[ARTISAN KIM]

Several options flickered through Artie's mind as PJ slipped from his shoulders: he could flee and avoid consequence, he could snap PJ's neck and end the pain mercifully, or he could return to Circo with PJ and possibly be hated by everyone he loved. There was no contest; Artie knew deep in his heart what he had to do. He had to run away as fast as he could. Or at least, that's how his flight or fight response acted. Artie was like a bullet running down the road. It didn't matter where he traveled as long as it was far, far away from this place. But somewhere along that road, Artie decided that he couldn't suppress or run away from his problems forever. Abandoning PJ wasn't any better than abandoning his mother, Carter, or Lilly. And most importantly: he knew that no matter what, canines were always loyal.

Artie ran back to PJ even faster than he'd left him. He hoisted the invisible boy over his shoulders, licked the wounds on his face, and cried: “Stay awake, PJ! Please, stay awake for my brother!” And just like that, he took off running for Circo. If he pushed himself beyond his body's limits, Artie knew that he'd be able to locate the healers before PJ lost too much blood. Artie was willing to tear calve muscles and break ligaments to get there, so he ran faster than he'd ever had in his life. “Are you mad at me, PJ?” asked Artie, “Or afraid? P-please don't be either.”

The next few hours were a horrific mix of Artie admitting to his mistake, handing PJ over to the healers, and being sentenced to a “time-out” where he'd wait...and wait...and wait for PJ's return.

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