I'm driving home, the city blurring past my windows as I replay everything from today.
Cecil's smile. The way he laughed. How he froze in my arms for just a second before relaxing into the hug. Naomi's chaotic energy. The fractured aura I still can't explain.
He's different. Something happened to him.
Something that left marks I can see but don't understand.
I pull into the driveway and cut the engine, but I don't move immediately. My hands grip the steering wheel as I stare at the house.
Dylan's waiting for me.
I can already feel his presence through our bond—concerned, alert, watching for me. He knows something's up. He always knows.
I sigh and finally step out of the car.
Dylan's leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed, his dark eyes tracking my every movement. He pushes off as I approach.
"Hey."
"Hey," I reply, trying to brush past him into the house.
He blocks my path smoothly. "We need to talk."
Of course we do.
I rub my temples, exhaustion suddenly hitting me. "Dyl, I don't want to—"
"Keith."
Aethera's voice cuts through my thoughts like a blade—sharp, urgent, undeniable.
I freeze mid-step.
"I need to tell you something about Cecil."
My eyes flick to Dylan, who's still waiting for my response, concern written clearly across his face.
"Mum? What's wrong? Is Cecil okay?"
But I can't have this conversation out here. Not with Dylan watching.
"Fine," I say aloud to Dylan, keeping my mental channel with Mum open. "What is it?"
Do I even want to have this conversation right now? And what does Aethera mean? Is Cecil in danger?
I step inside and Dylan follows close behind, shutting the door. I drop my keys on the table with more force than necessary and turn around.
My eyes lock with Dylan's but I don't say anything.
If he wants to talk, he can start.
Dylan's eyes narrow. "What's going on with you?"
I raise an eyebrow. "What do you mean?"
"The way you're behaving right now..." He gestures vaguely. "It's completely different from how you were before you left to see Cecil."
I force a laugh, trying to brush it off. "There's no difference—"
"Keith, focus."
Aethera's voice is back, more urgent this time.
"Cecil isn't in immediate danger, but... he's close to it. Closer than I'd like."
My stomach drops.
What does that mean? What kind of danger?
I turn away from Dylan, trying to process Mum's words without letting my expression give anything away.
Dylan's voice cuts through. "Keith? You okay?"
I turn back, forcing what I hope is a convincing smile. "Yeah, just... thinking."
"Keith." Aethera's tone shifts—softer but somehow more serious. "I need you to promise me something. Don't tell Dylan what I'm about to tell you."
I blink, my gaze still on Dylan.
"Don't tell him? Why? What's going on?"
"Hey, Dyl, I need a minute," I say aloud, heading toward the kitchen. "Gonna grab a drink."
Dylan nods but I can see the skepticism in his eyes. He knows me too well. Every microexpression, every shift in tone—he catches it all.
Great.
I grab a glass from the cabinet and fill it with water I don't actually want, just to have something to do with my hands.
"Mum, what's happening? Why can't I tell Dylan?"
Aethera doesn't answer immediately and the silence stretches uncomfortably.
Dylan appears in the kitchen doorway. "Keith, seriously. What's going on?"
I turn, leaning against the counter to appear casual. "Nothing, Dyl. Just... stuff with Cecil."
Dylan's eyes narrow dangerously. "Stuff? What kind of stuff?"
"Don't tell Dylan."
Aethera's warning echoes in my mind but Dylan is right here, staring at me like he can see through every lie I'm trying to construct.
"Just..." I search for something vague enough to be true but not revealing. "He's got some things he's dealing with. That's all."
Dylan's expression makes it clear he doesn't believe a single word. "You know you can trust me, right?"
I nod quickly. "Yeah, I know. It's just... complicated."
"Keith, promise me."
Mum's voice is a command now, brooking no argument.
"This is important. For Cecil's safety."
I look at Dylan, who's watching me like a hawk studying its prey.
"I'll handle it, okay?" I say, and even to my own ears it sounds weak.
Dylan frowns. "You're not gonna do something reckless, are you?"
I laugh—too loud, too forced. "Me? Reckless? Never."
"Keith." Aethera's voice carries more weight now. "Cecil's safety depends on this. On you keeping this between us."
I push away from the counter. "Dyl, I gotta go... think some stuff through. Alone."
Dylan's expression says he absolutely hates this, but after a long moment, he nods. "Fine. But we're talking later. Actually talking."
"Yeah," I agree, relief flooding through me. "Later."
Dylan gives me one last searching look before heading toward his room. The door closes with a soft click.
I wait until I hear him moving around inside before letting out a long breath.
"Okay, Mum. He's gone. What's going on?"
The silence stretches for a moment. Then—
"Keith... what I'm about to tell you, Cecil doesn't know I know. And he can't know that you know. Not yet."
My heart starts pounding.
"What does that mean?"
"I... I did something I shouldn't have."
I frown, sinking into a chair at the kitchen table.
"What did you do?"
"I looked into his memories. Without his permission."
I stiffen.
"You—what?"
"I know." Her voice is thick with guilt. "I know it was wrong. I violated his privacy and his trust and I— Keith, he said something that terrified me. And I needed to understand."
"What did he say?"
A pause. Then, quietly:
"He called himself a monster."
The words hit me like a physical blow.
"What?"
"He said he was a monster. That I didn't need to protect him from other monsters because he was one of them."
"No. No, that's not— Cecil isn't—"
"I know. Which is why I looked. I needed to understand why he believes that about himself."
My hands curl into fists on the table.
"And what did you find?"
Another pause. Longer this time.
When Aethera speaks again, her voice is careful. Gentle. Like she's trying to soften a blow she knows will break something.
"Cecil's mother died giving birth to him."
I go completely still.
"She hemorrhaged. Lost too much blood. The doctors couldn't save her."
Oh gods.
"Cecil blames himself, Keith. Completely. He genuinely believes he killed her."
No—
"He's carried that guilt his entire life. And in his original world, it destroyed everything."
I can't breathe. The kitchen feels too small, too hot, the air too thick.
"His original world?"
"His father fell apart after losing his wife. Started drinking. Gambling. Fell into debt—massive debt. And when he couldn't pay it back..."
"Mum. What happened?"
"He disappeared. Left Cecil alone to face the consequences."
My chest tightens painfully.
"Cecil was alone?"
"The debt collectors found him. Cornered him on a rooftop. Six million dollars he couldn't possibly pay."
Six million—
"They were going to kill him, Keith."
Horror floods through me, cold and sharp.
"Did they—"
"No." Aethera's voice cracks slightly. "Cecil jumped first."
The world tilts.
"What?"
"He jumped off the building. Chose to die rather than let them kill him. His last thought was a prayer—hoping that if gods existed, they might give him a second chance."
I can't—
I can't process this.
Cecil. My Cecil. Sweet, gentle Cecil who used to pick flowers and make me wear them in my hair.
Who laughed at my terrible jokes and cried during sad movies and always, always tried to see the best in people.
He jumped off a building.
"That's when I saved him," Aethera continues softly. "When I brought him here. Gave him this new life."
"Does he remember?" I manage to think through the static in my mind.
"Most of it. Some memories are blurry but he remembers his mother. His father. The debt. The fall."
My vision blurs.
"He remembers dying."
"Yes."
"And he blames himself for all of it."
"Yes."
I press my palms against my eyes, trying to hold myself together.
That's why his aura is fractured. His soul died once already. He carries that death with him.
"Keith..." Aethera's voice is gentle. "There's more."
More? How can there possibly be more?
"In his new life here—the father I brought back for him is different. Better. Sober and successful and present. But Cecil still carries the guilt. Still believes he's a monster who killed his mother."
"He doesn't see that it wasn't his fault."
"No. He doesn't."
I stand abruptly, the chair scraping loudly against the floor.
"I need to see him. Right now. I need to—"
"Keith, no."
"But he's—"
"You can't." Firm now. Absolute. "He doesn't know I know any of this. If you go to him now, what will you say? How will you explain knowing something so deeply personal that he's never told you?"
I freeze, my hand on my keys.
"I..."
"You'll scare him. Make him feel exposed and violated. He trusted me in a moment of vulnerability and I betrayed that trust by looking into his memories. If he finds out I told you..."
"He'll never trust either of us again."
"Exactly."
I sink back into the chair, my entire body trembling.
"Then what do I do? How do I help him?"
"You wait. You let him come to you. You create a safe space where he can choose to share when he's ready."
"But he's hurting—"
"I know." Aethera's voice is thick with emotion. "I know, sweetheart. But rushing in before he's ready will only make it worse."
"What about Dylan? Why can't I tell him?"
"Because Dylan pushes. You know he does. When he wants answers, he doesn't stop until he gets them. That approach will break Cecil completely."
I think about Dylan's intensity. His directness. The way he bulldozes through obstacles.
"He'd mean well."
"I know. But Cecil needs gentleness right now. Patience. Space to heal at his own pace. Dylan will get there—he'll learn how to approach Cecil carefully. But not yet. Not until Cecil has had time to feel safe first."
I nod even though she can't see me.
"Okay. I won't tell him."
"Thank you."
"Mum... what you did. Looking into his memories without permission..."
"I know it was wrong." The guilt in her voice is palpable. "I've been struggling with it since it happened. But Keith, when he called himself a monster, I couldn't— I had to understand."
"If Cecil forgives you later, I think slowly, then it was the right thing to do. You saw something that terrified you and you acted to protect him. That's not wrong."
"You really think so?"
"I think you care about him. And sometimes caring means making hard choices."
Silence.
Then, quietly: "Thank you, Keith."
"When can I tell Dylan?"
"After Cecil meets him. After Cecil has had time to settle into your friendship again. After he feels safe. Then we can decide together—all of us, including Cecil—how much to share."
"Saturday. He's coming over Saturday."
"I know. Naomi will be there too, which helps. She can keep things light."
"And then what?"
"Then you be his friend. Like you've always been. Let him see that nothing has changed between you. That you still care about him exactly the same as you always have."
"But everything has changed."
"For you, yes. But for him? You're still Keith. His childhood best friend. The person he feels safe enough to reach out to after all these years. Don't take that away from him by treating him differently."
I take a shaky breath.
"Okay. I can do that."
"I know you can. You're stronger than you think, Keith."
"I don't feel strong right now."
"I know. But you will be. For him."
The connection fades, leaving me alone in the kitchen.
I sit there for a long time, staring at nothing.
Cecil jumped off a building.
Cecil believed — believes — he's a monster.
Cecil has been carrying guilt and trauma and self-hatred for his entire life.
And he smiled at me today. Laughed. Made jokes.
Acted like everything was fine.
How?
The question echoes in my mind.
If I feel like this just from hearing about it—if I'm this destroyed just knowing what happened—how is Cecil going through every single day smiling like nothing's wrong?
How much is he hiding?
How much pain is he carrying that even Aethera doesn't know about?
My hands are shaking. My eyes are wet.
Cecil.
The boy I've loved since we were children. The person who made me believe in goodness and gentleness and all the soft things in the world.
He tried to die.
And I wasn't there to stop it.
I couldn't protect him.
But I can now.
The thought crystallizes into certainty.
I couldn't save him before. But I can make sure nothing ever hurts him like that again.
I can be there. Be present. Be safe.
I can love him the way he deserves to be loved—patiently, gently, without expectations or demands.
I can wait.
Even if it takes forever.
Even if he never feels the same way.
Even if all I ever get to be is his friend.
I can make sure he knows he's not alone anymore.
I wipe my eyes and take a deep breath.
Saturday.
Cecil's coming over Saturday.
And I'm going to make sure he feels so safe, so welcomed, so cared for that maybe—just maybe—he'll start to see himself the way I see him.
Not as a monster.
As someone precious.
Someone worth saving.
Someone worth loving.
I'll wait as long as it takes, Cecil.
I promise.