Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

It had been years now since the train... 

Years since she woke at the hospital, her parents and grandparents surrounding her bedside. Police were there too... When it came time to recount the story of her 8 year long absence- she lied. A magic train became a regular one. Her kidnapping transformed into a simple tale of a child who had run away from an unsupportive household, living in plain sight for years... She never once mentioned having a friend with her during that time. 

That was the new story. No- it was the only story. The one she stuck with for so many years, in so many therapist's offices, that soon she began to believe it herself. Convincing herself that she made the train up in an attempt to cope with her ordeals after running away. That none of it had been real. The train, it's conductor, the false conductor, Hazel, the Apex-.... Even Simon had been made up. Thats why she would never see him again-

"I can help whose next!" 

Grace jerked her head up. She had been waiting in line in a crowded supermarket. Her mother (who now spent practically every waking hour at her daughter's side) had run back to grab a gallon of milk. There was a long line behind them, and it grew longer still, so Grace decided there was no use waiting.

She lets me live rent free. The least I can do is buy her groceries.

With that in her mind, the young woman stepped forward and began to set her items on the counter. It wasn't much. Just some hamburger helper, a bag of grapes, and some ground beef. Simple 'mom is 'cooking' tonight while the chef is out of town' food. It did her heart and stomach good, so she wasn't about to complain.

It was nice having a mom for once. 

"Find everything okay?" The cashier asked, his tone less than interested.

"I did-" 

Her whole world screeched to a halt when she looked up. He looked different- so different than when she had last saw him. But even with glasses and an overall cleaner appearance, she would never forget that face. 

"S-Simon!?" 

The cashier looked up, confusion etched on his face. He squinted, studying her now red face for where he might know her. Eventually, he shrugged a shoulder and resummed bagging her items. "Do I know you from somewhere?" 

Her mouth hung open, gaping like a fish out of water. In took her another second to regain her wits. "You should- Grace Monroe!?" 

"Doesn't sound familiar." He replied, "Your total is $15.25-"

"How don't you remember me!? We-" A hand wave silenced her. 

"Ma'am, theres a long line and your making a scene..." Simon cut in. "Are you paying with cash or card?" 

"Cash..." She sighed, fumbling for her money with shaking hands. "I-I don't understand- you died-"

"We're all dead on the inside here, ma'am." The man said, handing her her receipt and bags. "Have a nice day." 

"Y-you too..." 

Her head was spinning and she felt sick to her stomach. Her legs felt like they were made of jelly, and she nearly forgot about her mother. The older woman was at the very back of the line... Deciding to wait for her, Grace collapsed onto a nearby bench to wait.

The store was so cold around her- and the overlapping chatter of the many occupants did nothing to soothe the voices in her head. She had to eventually close her eyes, unable to see straight anymore from the pounding in her skull. She may have been in therapy, but she knew she wasn't crazy. 

It has to be him... Who else...?

No- its just a familiar face... You've probably just seen him around... You do come in here a lot- and his name is on his shirt. Thats it... The train wasn't real-

"Laurent!" 

She froze, eyes darting back up to the blonde cashier. He had his glasses off this time, tugging off his work apron as another employee approached him. A kind smile- one that he used to save for a victorious raid- decorated his face. For a moment, it felt like she was 18 again... Still wheeling nulls and running the Apex with her best friend...It served as further proof to Grace that it was him.

"You here to spring me?" Simon joked to his co-worker as he replaced his glasses on the edge of his nose. 

"Sure am. Now get out of here before I call security." The other teased, knocking him in the shoulder. "Any plans? You're off tomorrow."

"None- I'll catch you later. I'm late as is." 

She watched him dig into his pocket for a set of keys, and despite her better judgement, stood up. Ready to follow at a distance to see where he would go. 

He looks so happy... Could that really be MY Simon...? 

Just as the thought entered her mind, he began humming. She strained her ears, trying to hear above the noise to- she wasn't sure what she was listening for, but she hoped it was an indication of who he was. She needed some kind of proof- all she managed was to catch the tail-end of an opening line of a song he had begun to sing to himself. 

"Don't be a worry baby-"

Before she realized what she was doing, she was running after him. "Simon! Wait!" 

It was too late by then. He had disappeared through the sliding doors before her words could reach him- and as she stumbled out into the parking lot, he was gone. Both from her sight and from her life a second time. The world around her vanished, as her eyes brimmed with tears. Leaving her with nothing but her fear and confusion all over again. The same way she had felt during her remaining years on the train... The train she was not certain had truly existed... It just had to. 

He's gone again... 

Chapter Text

"Hazel! You still have time to change your mind!" Her voice is faint in her ears, drowned out by the grind and groaning of the train's platform as it falls away. 

She watches- hopeful that the little one will come running back to her. She wants so desperately to run to her- to wrap her up in her arms and take her away from all this. From anyone who might think to hurt her- but as the bridge pulls back, she realizes Hazel will not be going back with them...

The Hey Ho Woah Car seems to far away now. It begins to rise and now there isn't a chance of retrieving Hazel. Even if the little girl did change her mind- soon she would be too far away for Grace to reach. Tears blind her, turning the beautiful little girl into a blury streak of muted colours. Mixing until she disappears from view- all before she had even left. Grace can hear the pulse coming- she barely has time to clear her eyes to get one last glimpse of the little girl before shes gone from her life for good- She just needs to see her one last time-

Scornful is the child's gaze.

"...Good luck, Grace-"

And then she was gone...

Grace awoke with tears in her eyes. It had been years since she dreamt of Hazel, and even longer since she stopped calling out to her in the waking world. She was gone... Just as Simon was. The train had taken them from her. That phantom she had seen in the store was nothing more than that. Just a ghost that would haunt her until the end of her days. 

"You can't get them back, Grace." Her voice didn't sound like her own, "Its time to move on..." 

It was late in the morning. 9 o'clock at the earliest, based on how the sun shown through her window. The bright rays made her bed uncomfortably hot, but she found she didn't have the energy to pull herself from her bed. Her tears hadn't stopped either. It was a miserable morning, one where she would wish for rain clouds instead of sunshine, or for it to be to early to awaken yet. Anything but this. 

"I earned my exit... I did exactly what the train wanted me too..." Her throat tightened as fresh tears sprung into her eyes, "S-so why am I being punished now!?" 

A sob escaped her as she rolled onto her side, away from the sun. She buried her wet face in her cold, numberless hands and openly wept into them. Her heart was heavy and every inch of her hurt. She had once promised herself to never cry over the Train again, fearing it would come back for her and yet- 

"I'm a good person- no I'm not... I'm a terrible person..." She whimpered, "I should have done more..." 

Her heart was hammering behind her ribs. It felt as though there were a locomotive angrily charging through her chest. Her breathing was labored- her spacious bedroom suddenly felt too small, the air too warm- too heavy- she felt like she was suffocating. Unable to pull enough air into her lungs- She had to get out of there! She had to be as far away from those dreams as she could... She had to go somewhere where the train wouldn't find her-

So she ran.  

Pajamas and messy hair be damned. The sudden burst of fall air and frigid rain against her heated skin felt like a blessing. Her plush socks would be full of holes soon, but she hardly noticed them or the rocks that fell underfoot. The pain was proof she was alive and this was not a dream. The burn in her lungs, the pull in her legs- it was proof. It was strength. The further she got from her house, the more real it all felt. She felt real again. The more she ran, the further the train seemed... She could outrun- she would have to. She wouldn't let anyone or anything stop her-

THUMP!

All at once, she was thrown back, sent crashing to the ground. A new pain erupted in her lower back when she landed, and any lingering thoughts from earlier had been dashed a millisecond later. Never before had she felt so thankful for crashing into someone. It didn't matter who it was. 

Anyone except- "Grace?" Him...

"S-Simon?" The woman furiously wiped her eyes, trying to look somewhat presentable- or as presentable as she could in a Rob Zombie t-shirt and shorts. 

The blonde stood before her, a kind smile on his face and one hand outstretched. In the other hand, he held an open umbrella over her head, shielding her from the calming rain. If not for the pain in her back, Grace would have thought this was one of her dreams. A memory of better times, right before Simon had taken a turn for the worse... Those dreams always ended badly. With his number growing until it consumed him- the dream ending after the gohm came to claim his life-

"I thought I recognized you." His voice brought her back. 

"You do...?" She reached out cautiously to take his hand- concerned that her hand would pass right through his. 

"You yelled at me last week." Not-Simon replied, taking her hand firmly and pulling her up. 

"O-oh. Right- I'm sorry about that." Grace blushed, "You just- looked like an old friend..."

The man smiled faintly, "Sounds like a handsome guy if he looks like me-" The smile vanished, and his expression soured. "But don't turn this into a stalking thing. I've already filled out enough incident reports over customers-" 

"N-no no! Its not like that!" Grace couldn't help but laugh. So serious- just like her Simon used to be. "Just- we were on bad terms and- I guess I freaked out a little when I thought you were him."

"I'm- sorry to hear that-?" Not-Simon frowned, but quickly cleared his throat and smiled again.

It was a customer service smile- not one she had ever seen on her own Simon. Hell- her Simon would have thrown himself off of the nearest overpass if he had to do customer service! Even if this had been her friend, he might as well have been a stranger. 

"Do you live nearby? I can walk you home." He offered in a tone that said both 'you don't have an umbrella' and 'I want to see whatever asylum it is you just escaped from'. 

"I can walk myself." Grace huffed, "But thanks for the offer. Its been a week from Hell."

"I'm not going to ask, but I feel like you're going to tell me anyway." He laughed, "If you promise you're not a stalker, we can walk a little."

She rolled her eyes, but her smile grew. "I promise I am not a stalker." 

"Scouts honor?" The blonde held up his free hand and crossed his fingers in a mock salute.

She mimicked the gesture. "You were in scouts? My friend-"

"-Still not him, and I still am." The other replied, "Troop 377."

"I didn't think they let kids older than 40 in." She teased, her steps falling in line with his as they walked.

He scoffed. "Excuse you, I'm 25!"

"A 25 year old scout then." She teased, knocking him in the side. "But seriously. Isn't 25 a little old?"

"It's not too old if you're the troop leader." Simon smirked, 

She laughed. "Thats adorable. So you're a cashier and a troop leader? How do you stay sane having to deal with so many people?" 

"The trick is to smile and nod until the problem goes away...And to carry a flask." His tone was matter-of-fact. "I have it filed under Procedure 420 in my personal book of 'Things I Write Down While On Break.'.

"Ha! Nice..." 

A comfortable silence fell between the two, filled occasionally by the crunch of a fall leaf or a gentle roll of some far off thunder. It felt as though time were standing still, but in reality they had already spent 5 minutes in silence. 

It was Simon who spoke next.

"So... What do you do for a living?" He asked, "I feel its my turn to make fun of what you do."

"Well, if you must know, I'm a children's dance instructor." Grace replied. "I considered joining the Rockettes, but I couldn't pull off the crazy Joker smile."

This time, it was Simon who laughed. "Thats awesome."

"You bet it is! We do team building exercises in the mornings, and every Friday we have icecream." She smiled fondly at the thought, "No child is left out in my class."

"I'll have to keep that in mind." 

Grace was about to laugh again- until she caught sight of the man's face. He looked absolutely dead serious about that. Not at all what she had been expecting. 

"Keep what in mind?" She asked.

"Your dance class. It sounds like it would be a nice change of pace from Scouts..." Simon shrugged, sounding as if what he just said wasn't the craziest thing in the world.

"You want to teach a dance class?" She frowned. Now she was sure she was dreaming. 

"What- No!" Simon frowned. He looked just as bewildered as Grace currently felt. 

"But you just said-"

"I was talking about my daughter!" 

Chapter Text

"I was talking about my daughter!"

She wasn't sure how long the world had stopped for, or how ridiculous her face must have looked- but she was sure it had been long enough to freak Simon out. The man had taken a step back from her by the time her head caught up with her and she remembered how to breathe again. Even while trying to remind herself that this was *not* the Simon she had met on the train- it was still shocking. 

All her time with him, she had never seen him as the fatherly type- and even when she did, she just couldn't imagine him with any other children besides the Apex kids and maybe hers- 

"Y-you're a dad-" The break in her voice was deafening. Hopefully he hadn't heard it.

"Thats what having a daughter means." Simon retorted. "You look surprised?" 

Grace shook off her shock quickly, replacing her slack jaw with the award winning smile she used during her competition days. "Nah. It just explains the scout leader bit... So I guess that makes you a den mother AND a father?"

"Very funny. Haven't heard that one a million times." Simon shot back with a grimance.

The sudden change in demeanor startled Grace, and she too found herself about to take a step back- when. He laughed. Simon visibly relaxed at the jest, and any hostility or awkward tension that was beginning to form vanished. It had been so long since Grace had seen any version of Simon calm down so quickly. Seeing it was- relieving in a sense. Considering how things had gone down the last time she saw him- or rather her Simon- that is. She wasn't sure she could handle another Simon trying to fight her again...

A shiver ran down her spine at the thought. He didn't seem to notice. 

"In all seriousness, I do get asked that a lot." He went on, definitely not noticing the break in the conversation. 

"And how do you usually respond?" She wrapped her arms around herself, both to keep the autumn chill away, and- she supposed to shield herself. Out of instinct... 

"I don't." A shrug, "My little monkey always bails me out of conversations like that."

A soft chuckle left Grace, followed by another shiver. "So she protects you and not the other way around?" 

"Hey, I didn't raise a butterfly. She can take care of herself." Simon's eyes began to sparkle in pride, the same way Train Simon's had when he wheeled something for the first time...

"I can take care of myself-" 

Hazel's little voice echoed through Grace's head. It knocked around in her skull so hard that it hurt. She began to wonder where her little turtle was now... Was she okay? Was she still alive? What would her life have been like if she had stayed with Grace? Maybe she would have left the train with her... She would have been in school by now... Hazel would have made so many friends in the real world...Maybe she would have been friend's with Simon's daughter too- 

"It must be nice..." Those words felt heavy on her tongue. They were even heavier in her heart. Wounds she had thought were healed felt as though they were fresh again. 

"It is..." And then there was Simon. Even this version of him seemed blind to her pain- but she didn't blame him. He (seemingly) didn't know any better. 

A deep breath lifted her up just enough to continue. "I take it you two are close?" 

"Yeah- I'm about to spring her from Kindergarten so we can go Go-Karting, actually." A mischievous smirk tugged the corners of Simon's lips. 

That look was one Grace was too familiar with. But it didn't sound like their afternoon plans would involve wrecking a Ball-Pit Car or looting of any kind. When he said "hang out" it sounded- cute. A typical "playing hookie with dad" type of day. Something she expected but NEVER thought she'd ever see *Simon* doing. 

"Is that something you two do often?" She mused, earlier tensions melting away enough for her to feel comfortable. 

"Only once every few weeks... I am a responsible parent after all." He replied, "That and the kid only has so many baby teeth... Spacing it out helps sell the dentist ruse."

"What does her other parent think of that?" Well- that certainly wasn't subtle. 

"Its-... Its just me, actually." Simon's smile remained, but it looked pained now. 

"Oh- I'm so sorry-"

"Why? Its not like you knew." He sighed, tossing his hands up in mock surrender. "I know, I seem like the type who needs another adult's supervision. But trust me, I'm just a normal everyday dad who sneaks my kid out of school because its dull and boring and her teacher sucks."

"Yep, such a responsible parent you are." Grace teased, about to knock the man in the shoulder out of habit but stopping just before she could make contact. She brought her arms back around herself, this time to hold herself back from being too casual too soon. 

They had made it to a nearby elementary school. Class was very much in session, and there were only a few cars scattered throughout the staff parking lot. There wasn't another soul outside of the building. A good thing too. Grace's own mother would kill her if she let anyone else see her this underdressed in public. Heck- she'd kill herself for it! Espeically if it was a group of giggling kids... She had seen enough of that with the former Apex kids.

"I should probably leave you too it. Don't want your kid to think the 'scary stalker lady' is following her dad around." She smiled. "And I'm sorry about the store- and running into you."

"Don't worry about it." The man smiled a goofy, lopsided smile. "It's been a while since I had an intelligent conversation with another adult." 

"Intelligent?" The woman rolled her eyes. "Come on. That was about as intelligent as a circus peanut."

"A radioactive circus peanut." 

"With a PHD in being smart!" 

The comfortable silence from earlier fell over the two- only this time it was quickly replaced by a fit of matched laughter. Genuine laughter that went on until their jaws were cramping and their sides hurt. It was a welcome pain. The kind that comes with sharing nonsense with another who could understand.

It was nice. 

"Daddy!" 

Grace's attention snapped away from Simon and over to the school's double doors. There was a blurr of blonde and uniform blue, and Simon- who had been at her side seconds earlier- was now flat on his back with a what looked like a large yellow hedgehog on top of him. He also had the brightest smile on his face. 

If Grace had to guess- this was the infamous daughter. 

"Hey, kiddo!" He laughed, scooping up the ball in a tight hug.

"Hey, adult-o!" The child snickered, messy hair blocking her face from Grace's view "Are we going!?"

"Settle. Remember Procedure 59?" 

"To not break character until after dad signs you out of school'?" The little girl squeaked.

"That very one. We've got time. The tracks don't open for another hour." 

The interaction was cute. Too cute- and little too weird. This man might have looked like her Simon, but he certainly didn't act like it. This one took control without being overly controlling, from what she could tell- and his procedures actually made sense!

'Maybe in another life-'

Eyes were on her suddenly. She could feel it before she saw them. Two, wide brown eyes, hidden behind a forest of blonde. The little one was staring at her...

She shifted uncomfortably, wondering if now would be an appropriate time to bid the little family farewell and head home. 

"Its you-" The little one spoke, voice faint in awe. Tiny hands reached up to push the mass of hair away- revealing a sweet little face that Grace thought she would never see again.

"Hazel!?"

Chapter Text

"Its you..."

Grace never did get clarification on that... Before she could ask, she was pulled into a nearby car and carted off by her furious mother. The older woman berated her for being out so "under dressed" for the entire half-hour it took them to get to the nearest "high end" (not as high as her mother would have liked, but they did fantastic work) hair salon in the city. Nothing but the best for them, after all... 

Sure, she was all for bonding with her mother or whatever you'd call their interactions but this- 

"You were outside! What if somebody else saw you!?" Her mother went on. "I don't know what you learned on the streets, but you've been home for years now! You should know better."

"I know, mom... I'm sorry- I just had to get out of the house-" That earned a swat on the wrist. 

"And you didn't think to put on actual clothes first?" The woman buried her face in a jeweled hand, "I thought I raised you better... And what was that riff-raff you were with?"

"Just some guy I bumped into." Not a complete lie. 

Her gut was telling her that the man *was* her Simon, but her brain was fighting her with things like "logic" and "facts". Simon died on the train, and Hazel would be much older by now- and she would NEVER call Simon her dad... Not that Grace could share any of this with her mother. As far as her mother was concerned, the train and anyone on it didn't exist. Grace never told her about any of it, and she wasn't planning on mentioning it now. 

"And it was a man no less. Grace, I swear at this rate you'll be unmarried the rest of your life." Her mother reached over and swatted her arm again. "You know I wanted grandchildren! I was hoping at the very least you would've brought some back with you..." 

'I was hoping so too... You would've loved Hazel...' 

That was another thing that still kept resistance in her mind. Her mother no longer kept as tight a hold over her now that she was older. Too old to compete in dance competitions and pageants- but not to old to "make" someone who could. Or- at least raise someone who could. A little starlight in her aging mother's life

During her travels on the train, she had been hopeful that starlight would have been Hazel... She had pictured them all together, her, Simon, and Hazel- whether they stayed on the train or left. Just a perfect little family, like the one she had left behind, just with more love... When they had the snowball fight in the Cat Car, the image became cemented in her brain... And unfortunately- time hadn't worn away at it.

'That latest encounter didn't help...'

Even with it *right in front of her*, she couldn't shake the image of the family she had created in her mind from scraps of nothing. The one she always considered to be her's. Sure, there was a Simon in the real world, with a Hazel at his side. But it wasn't her's. Not even close to what Grace had imagined. She didn't want this version- couldn't stand to know it existed around her... Her mind was now buzzing with a million questions.

Is this all an illusion created by the train? Was she truly home or stuck in a world of her creation? If she *was* home, then what did the train continue to punish her!? Was this a reward? And if it was- why now!? The Laurents weren't her family to go back to- they never were! Did it make her a horrible person to wish they would go away? Back to wherever they had come from if not the train-

"Teen pregnancy was so trendy that year!" 

The young woman flinched, her thoughts quieting at the sound of her mother's voice... This had to be real. Her number had gone down to zero and she was home- had been home. She just had to be...

"Seriously mom? I haven't even had se-" This time, she moved out of the way of the swat.

"Oh, don't remind me..." Her mother turned a steely glare on her. "That could change... Did you get that man's number?"

Grace's face must have turned 7 shades of red. 

"What- no! He was just picking up his kid when I ran into him-" 

... She did not like the way her mother's usually unpleasant frown lit up. Nor the way the woman's eyes widened and glinted in what Grace could only describe as a scheming way.

"He's a father?" Or how interested her mother suddenly sounded. "Is he single?"

"I think- but-" A hand wave silenced her. She wasn't going to be able to talk herself out of what she was sure was going to be a very uncomfortable conversation.

"Is the child a little boy? Girl? Twins?" Yep. This wasn't going to be fun.

"A girl- mom. I Really don't feel comfortable discussing this." Her face hurt from all the blood rushing to it. 

"A girl!" Her mother beemed- then frowned so deeply Grace was afraid it might crack her botox... She should have seen the swat coming. "And you went out in pajamas!? You didn't jump on that!? Are you insane!?"

"Ow- mom! Quit it!" Fumbling with her seat belt, Grace freed herself quickly and stepped out of the vehicle. "I told you, it was just someone I ran into. Don't think too much into it!"

"You're not getting any younger, Grace! Stepmother-hood may be your only option." Her mother huffed, then withdrew a compact from her bag, "Besides, this way you get to keep your figure and don't have to worry about dealing with an infant." 

"... I'm going inside the salon now." Grace sighed, "Meet me in there when you've finished fixing your make-up." 

Drawing in a deep breath, the woman willed the rest of her blush and anguish away- or rather she tried to. Her heart still ached from the memory of *her* Simon and of *her* Hazel. Nothing could replace either of them in her heart- and they both still had a place there inspite of everything. A spot whoever those two imposters were wouldn't be able to fill. 

Tears burned her eyes, but she forced them away. This wasn't the time, nor the place for them. Right now, she was focused on fixing herself up. She must have looked a hot mess by now. 

"Welcome back, Grace!" Her favorite stylist, Rebecca, called out to her as she entered the store. 

The warmth was just as much a God-send as the cold from earlier had been. The overwhelming scent of coconut in the air was a stark contrast to the smell of autumn outside, but Grace didn't mind. It was the smell of her childhood, of Rebecca. Her home away from home and the mother-figure she never had... It was the one part of her old life that she didn't despise. 

"Its good to be back." Grace called over her shoulder, taking a seat in the plush salon chair that had always been reserved for her. "Mom will be in in a few minutes."

Rebecca gave a nod, scrawled something down into her appointment book, and then grabbed a black cape from the counter. The woman always did things with such fluidty and grace, something that always dazzled Grace, even when she was a little girl. She used to love coming here before a big competition or a school event, having Rebecca pull and twist her hair until her scalp hurt. They used to spend hours fixing her hair up until it was perfect. And they spent even longer chatting about life. 

And a long chat about normal life was just what Grace needed right now.

"You look a little rough around the edges, girly." Rebecca laughed, wrapping the cape around Grace's shoulders. "In a hurry to come see me?"

"Ha. No... I went running this morning." The second half-lie in the last half hour. New record. "So now I need you to fix me up."

"I can see that. What were you thinking today?" Finally, a topic of conversation Grace *wanted* to have.

"I'm not picky. Just make me fabulous-" A pause, "Well- I also need my hair out of my face for work. Soooo-"

"I got just the look in mind." Rebecca gave her hair a tossle. "It's long enough now. How long have you been growing this out?"

"Oh man, I don't even remember." Grace laughed, "Ever since I got on the tr-"

She froze, her words dying in her throat. Her heart had gone from resting to running, and she was sure she visibly paled... It had been years since she had a slip up like that.

"Grace- baby, are you okay?" Rebecca's firm yet motherly tone could only do so much to ease her. 

"I-I'm fine- just... It's been over 15 years of growth- other than trimming it... Its shocking how much time has gone by." She forced one of her award-winning smiles- one so bright that her face physically burned from it... Grace hoped Rebecca would take the hint and drop it.

"... Okay." With a pointed expression, Rebecca resumed her tossling. "Well, lets get you fixed up, hun. I'll toss in a deep conditioning too, just because I like you."

"Thanks, Rebecca..." 

Grace didn't realize until she stood up that she had been shaking. The big black cape hid it, and she forced herself into a pagent walk towards the shampoo bowls. 

'Its okay, Grace... Just finish your day...' Dark eyes shifted from the bowls, over to Rebecca's appointment book. Still open to the day's date. A date Grace had worked so hard to forget about. 

'It's just the anniversary of the train... Its just an off day... Please just let it be an off day...' 

Snapping her eyes shut, Grace layed back into the shampoo bowl. The ache in her neck and the sound of rushing water finally drowned out her thoughts, and she finally allowed herself to slip into an empty rest... 

'Simon's going to kill me! I'm afraid, Grace!' 

'Hazel was our friend!'

'I *liked* what we had!'

Grace didn't need to look up to know what happened in each scene. She had dreamt about these events enough to know every detail. Right down to her's and Hazel's tears and the rage in Simon's eyes. They were now apart of her, hiding behind her eyelids. They never bothered her much until the anniversaries arrived.

Simon's death day, the day she was taken by the train- the day she returned home... She kept track of it all, try as she might not to. On days where she would avoid her calender, she would come across it anyhow. During the years she tried to convince herself she was keeping time for nothing, it became insistent. 

Always an intrusive thought or a bad dream. Never anything physical...

"Why now...?" In sleep, her voice didn't sound like her own. So ghostly and far away, as though it had been forgotten on the train when she left. "Its been years..."

Just how many years had it been now...? She believed it had been 6 now since she left. 15 since she first got on. 9 years she had been a passenger when she finally left. A full 6 months after Simon had been killed... In that time, the rest of the former Apex children had left her- their numbers dropping daily until they were all gone. Her's going with them, until she was the only member left... Save for Hazel.

"She would have been 7 when I left her... Right?" Grace thought. "She had to have had a birthday by then..."

How she wished she could have spent that day with Hazel. They would have found a cake and maybe some icecream and had a little party for just the two of them. They would have been happy... Maybe if they had, then Grace wouldn't be feeling so much guilt now. 

She wondered if this new Hazel got cake and icecream for her birthday... If this version of Simon was good to her...

If they were happy.

Chapter Text

Simon's POV

Once was an accident, twice was coincidence, but a third time-

Now he was starting to get scared. 

It had been days since his last run in with Grace Monroe. Life had continued as normal until an innocent shopping trip with Hazel took a turn. When the little one decided that the shoe aisle was the best place to take an impromptu nap. 

"I'm tiiiiiiired!" Hazel had whined. 

He frowned and resisted the urge to roll his eyes. "Yeah, lets just take a nap right in the middle of the store." 

"Okay!" It was cute- but inappropriate. Normally he would have humored her, but today was just one of those days. He still had bills to mail in, a meeting to get to, Hazel needed to be dropped off with his mom- and he could already see the lines at the check out growing uncomfortably fast. 

"No- Hazel, get up." Simon groaned- thats when he heard it. 

A sharp inhale from a disproving onlooker. He was accustomed to the sound by now- but this wasn't just any old Karen judging him. He only had to catch a glimpse of the person to know it was her. Those crazed brown eyes had been staring at him, wide with... Fear? For some reason or another- that look made his skin crawl. He had seen those eyes somewhere before-

"Hazel- Get up. We're leaving." His tone was firm. "Procedure 580, okay?" 

580- Danger. Leave immediately. They rarely had to use it, but sometimes Simon used it in place of Procedure 480- I'm tired, lets leave. Depending on where the situation fell. He was both tired and frightened and Hazel seemed to pick up on that immediately. She was to her feet in an instance. 

"But you said we could look at dance outfits before we left-" Okay, so maybe she didn't get it immediately, but it got her up. 

"Hazel- never reveal your secondary location during a 480- secondly, you were just complaining that you were tired!" He glanced up, making sure they were alone again.

"I just wanted to rest. You know its been my dream to look at dance stuff ever since you suggested it 12 minutes ago." Hazel puffed up her chest. "And you said this was a 580! Whats the point of the drills if you get your numbers wrong!?" 

"Okay, okay- just keep your voice down and get in the cart. Okay?" 

His own hands were shaking by now- and he wasn't entirely sure why. They had been in far scarier situations with far scarier people before. He always got them out of it unscathed. It never bothered him before. But something about the phantom that seemed to follow them wherever they went- that scared him. 

"Daddy?" 

He blinked- it took a second to register that he was the one Hazel was calling for. Turning back to her, he studied her innocent face. Those big brown eyes he would kill for were sparkling up at him. They made him feel at ease. That they were safe together and could accomplish anything. Just him and Hazel as it had always been. It was just enough of a confidence boost to help him continue with their shopping. 

"What is it, monkey?" Simon sighed, leaning onto the handle of the cart. 

"You just looked off for a really long time." Hazel shrugged. She dug through the items in their cart, kicking over fruits until she dug up a box of icecream sandwhiches. "Can I eat one of these?"

"We haven't had lunch yet." 

"That never stopped us before!" She had him there. 

A warm smile fell over his face. It seemed Hazel took more and more after him everyday. "Fine, but just one. I'm not paying for an empty box again." 

"Whats the point of you working if you don't pay for nothing every once in a while?" Hazel mused, already tearing into the frozen treat. 

Simon laughed, not bothering to respond to that. As always, the girl was wise beyond her years. "You forgot about the Dad-Tax." 

Hazel huffed, and offered up her icecream to him. "If you say 'one bite' and eat the whole thing, I will *yell* until we get to grandma's."

'Always two steps ahead... Thats my girl.' 

Spurred by the threat of public humiliation, he only took a bite of the treat before handing it back. They were both happy with that, and for a moment, Simon had forgotten all about being frightened until-

"The lady you were with-" Hazel began, stopping only to lick the remaining icecream from her fingers. "You know her."

It wasn't a question. "I honestly don't." 

"I know her too." Hazel went on. "You don't have to be scared of her."

"We don't know that, Hazel. Sometimes it better to be safe-" A sticky hand slapping him in the face silenced him.

"She's good, I can tell." 

His heart stilled in his chest. A feeling of dread washed over him again. There was a nagging, tugging feeling coming somewhere inside of him to be weary of that. At the same time, a voice at the back of his head told him to trust his child the way she trusted him. Somehow, he felt she was right, even if he didn't want her to be.

"Hazel-Bean- lets not talk about it anymore, okay?" His heart had gone from 0 to 100. "Come on- lets go look at your dance dresses." 

In an instance, Hazel's serious expression had cleared away. Her beautiful, pudgy, innocent smile took its place. The same smile he had grown accustomed to over the years. That sweet little smile that made him feel peace. 

"Yes! Thank you, daddy!" Hazel cheered, hugging him tightly around the neck. "I love you!"

Simon froze up. No matter how many times his daughter had hugged him, he always found himself surprised by it. Each one felt as though it had taken years to earn- that he was undeserving to have received one from someone so sweet. The 'I love yous' were a shock too. Perhaps it came from his own childhood years- never receiving much love or affection from his own parents- but he often found himself having trouble registering it coming from Hazel. Or saying it back. Even if he felt strong parental love for her. 

It hurt. Often, he found himself wondering if there was something wrong with him as a parent- he wondered if he was doing something wrong, and that's why the world seemed to judge him. That even in trying his best, it wouldn't be enough for Hazel. Or that maybe he *had* done something wrong and was making ammends for it now.

No. It didn't feel that way at all. Raising Hazel certainly wasn't just a chore or community service. Simon loved her wholly, and every new adventure she brought his way. Damn the rest of the world. He wasn't going to let her grow as he had. 

Wrapping his arms around her tiny frame, he held her close to him- shielding her from whatever lay ahead.

"I love you too, monkey." 

Chapter Text

The park was their secret hiding place. Too far beyond the train tracks and buried in a thick patch of poison ivy. No trespassers would dare to venture near it. It was the perfect place to play undisturbed, and served as an even more perfect stage to act out passages of their book: The Esmoroth Trilogy!

A snappy name, if Simon did say so himself (and he did. Often.). The story itself, he thought was corny, but he had been perfecting it into the perfect bedtime story for children- with a little help from his co-author, that is. A co-author who was about to miss her que!

"And thus they won the battle!" Simon cried out proudly, thrusting his stick 'sword' into the air. 

Beside him, on the swings, was Princess Hazel of Esmoroth. Her nose was currently buried in the old, wire bound book.

"No they didn't, daddy." She huffed, turning the book around.

Simon knelt in front of her. "Yes they did. We're acting out chapter 4, right?"

"Yes, but I made some revisions while you were at work." She slammed the book shut before he could read a word of it. "I thought having our lead lose would humble him a little."

He frowned. "Did you revise my copy or just yours?" 

"Just mine." Even better.

"Then its not yet canon, Princess Hazel!" Simon announced, jumping to his feet and waving his 'sword' around. "And if two authors can't decide which route to go-"

"-Then we gotta improvise a new route!" Hazel finished, launching herself odd of the swings and into a patch of grass. She quickly found her own 'sword' and swung it wildly. "FOR ESMOROTH!" 

"FOR ESMOROTH!" Simon echoed, dashing up a nearby slide with Hazel hot on his heels. 

They were fighting a battle between kingdoms for control of Apexia! It was the princess and King vs invisible knights. Unseen enemies were dashed away with a single swing of their swords. The battle was ranging around them, when the brave princess' sword snapped in half-

And a sudden laugh disrupted their fun. The princess was left without a weapon and the walls of their kingdom had been breached- both literally and metaphorically. They were being watched and laughed at now. 

And by who else- but Grace. 

"Time out!" Hazel called. "Look daddy. Its that lady again."

"I see..." Simon frowned, and tossed his stick aside. "You know, once is an accident, twice was coincidence, three times unsettling- and yet we meet again, Grace."

The woman in question was currently perched on the moss covered bench the duo often used as their writing desk. She was still dressed in what Simon assumed was her dance instructor clothes- a blue leotard and flowing skirt- and a novel of her own was beside her. The woman looked so amused- the young father could feel blood rushing to his face. It irritated him more than anything. 

"I'm not stalking you, I swear." Grace said innocently. "I just live in the area."

"This park hasn't seen anyone else for decades." Simon shot back, having not yet shaken his "King" voice. 

"Anyone else except me." Grace scoffed. "I come here to read sometimes."

"A likely story." Simon huffed. Of course, there was always the chance that it was- but you could never be too careful. The world could be a scary and often unforgiving place. It would only take one slip up to send your entire world crashing down on you. 

"Likely story? Why wouldn't you believe it?" They both knew the answer to that. 

"Lets review- I have never seen you before and you just happen to come out of the woodworks 'knowing' who I am-"

The more he spoke, the dumber he felt. She had already said she was from the area. It would explain everything that had transpired. This was a losing battle, just like in his book. The rational part of his brain was just out to lunch when he decided to open his mouth, he supposed.

As if by some miracle, Grace cut him off. 

"Calm down. I told you, I mistook you for someone I knew-" 

Before Simon could respond, his daughter grabbed his hand and tugged. Their silent signal for him to kneel to her level. As soon as he did, Hazel had her little hands cupped over his ear. A shield to keep their secrets between them.

"This is some good stuff, daddy! We can add it to this chapter! Keep talking!" Hazel whispered.

"What? No-!" Before he could blink, Hazel had taken up their manuscript in one hand and her pencil in the other. Grace shot them both another amused smirk. The look made Simon's ears burn- and the rest of his face for that matter.

"Hazel, put that away-" 

Grace was to her feet and coming their way. She didn't even give Simon enough time to grab the book and chuck it in the bushes. A very uncharacteristic thought of him, he realized. Usually he was more than happy to show their book to others, but Grace- He didn't think he could live with that humiliation.  

"Are you writing a book, Hazel?" Grace smiled, slowly kneeling to the girl's level.

"Uhuh! The Esmoroth Trilogy!" 

It might have gone unnoticed by Hazel, but Simon caught the catch in Grace's breath. He also noticed the same look of horror from earlier flash across her face. Something about that look made him feel uneasy. Just like in the store, he was ready to call a 580. 

"T-thats a nice name for a book." Grace stammered, turning her attention to Simon. "Where did you get the name from?"

Truth be told- he couldn't remember anymore. So many long years and an overly excitable child to look after seemed to have robbed him of remembering the mundane. That was the truth on the matter- but his gut told him that wasn't the proper response to give. 

"Scrabble." He lied. "I just tossed some letters down and thats what came out."

Hazel beemed proudly, "Daddy comes up with the coolest names! He even named me!"

"Did he now?" With those eyes focused back on Hazel, Simon felt he could breathe a little easier. 

"Yeah! We've been writing our book for a really really long time! Longer than I've known daddy!" 

"Have you known him a long time?" The was a bait question if ever he heard one. Cleverly disguised with a sweet laugh at the end. His stomach turned at that laugh- or maybe those were butterflies. 

"Yeah! Since I was a baby-" 

"Hazel. Procedure 275."

275: Keep your personal information to yourself by pleading the fifth. Hazel's personal favorite, as she created it. 

"Oh- right. I please the fifth!" Close enough. 

"Since you were a baby? Thats nice." Something about Grace's tone was- off. Hazel must have picked up on it too, as she slid behind her father's leg and buried her face in it.

"Please the fifth." She muttered, but her voice was still firm. "I won't say any more!"

Simon set a comforting hand on her head. "Very good, Hazel." 

For some reason or another- that felt like the wrong response and he wasn't sure why. He could tell Grace was searching for something- but whatever that something was- he didn't want to know. 

"I wasn't trying to pry." The woman coughed. "I'm sorry-" 

That was a lie. Simon may have been born at night, but according to his license, it hadn't been last night. He had a sinking feeling that whoever he reminded her of was someone Grace didn't want around anymore. Someone who she felt Hazel was unsafe with. 

Does she think I stole Hazel from somewhere? How unhinged was this guy? ... How unhinged is she? Why am I still talking to myself instead of setting the record straight?

"... I've told you, I don't know who you are." He began, slowly lifting Hazel into his arms. "I'm sorry to remind you of your friend- but I'm not him-" 

"I know- I really didn't mean anything by it-"

Simon tossed up a hand. 

"Then please- talk to us like we're normal people." Simon sighed, and ran a hand through Hazel's hair. "If we're going to keep bumping into each other. Let's just clear the air right now. Please? Starting with why you always look at me like I'm some kind of psychopath?" 

Grace sighed and sat back down on the bench. Her head was hung low. "You're going to think its crazy-"

"I work customer service and night shifts. Nothing is crazy." Simon said, taking a seat in the woodchips with Hazel on his lap.

Grace drew in a deep breath."Well- I had this friend a long time ago- you know that already... His name was also Simon Laurent- and we knew a little girl named Hazel too."

Those are common enough names. Nothing too unsettling about that.

Still- that didn't stop him from inching his hands towards the car keys clipped around his belt. If Boy Scouts had taught him anything, it was how to turn anything into a weapon.

"What happened to them?" Hazel asked, voice hushed. 

"Well... We all had a really big fight and- My Simon passed away... Hazel didn't want to be my friend anymore- so I came back home." Grace lifted her head, a weak smile stretched across her face. "I'm sorry if I scared you two- but I guess I'm still in mourning. I keep seeing reminders of the past wherever I go-The mind plays tricks on you when you're sad."

Simon felt that in the depths of his soul. Part of him wanted to reach out and comfort Grace- but the rational side of his mind told him not to. He didn't know her well enough. 

"Its okay. I understand." Hazel whispered softly. "Actually- daddy understands better than me."

"Yeah?" Grace turned her gaze to him. Something about the way she looked at him now- like an old friend- was comforting in a way. "I'm sure he does." 

"I guess I do-" Simon sighed, setting his chin on the top of Hazel's head. 

"Does this mean we can all be friends now?" Hazel asked, voice filled with hope. "She can play Princess Hazel and I can be Lady Grand!"

"But you're Princess Hazel!" Simon couldn't help but smile. Leave it to Hazel to lighten a mood with just a few words.

"Not anymore! Now I'm Lady Grand from chapter 5!" Hazel announced, springing to her feet and grabbing Simon's disgarded stick sword. "And Grace is Princess Hazel and you're still King Simon!"

"Thats not fair- The new Princess Hazel hasn't read the book!" King Simon laughed, racing to find two more sticks.

"Thats okay! When two authors can't choose a route, we improvise!" HazelLady Grand announced. 

Grace laughed and rushed forward, scooping the little one up and carrying her to the top of the slide. "How right you are, Lady Grand! What side are you one?"

"I'm the bad guy! In chapter 5, I'm in *Big* trouble!" 

Simon smirked. He had finally found a stick that would be perfect as a 'weapon' to defeat Lady Grand. It was a scene they had been working on for months! Hazel knew all of the lines already. She'd be eager to 'get to the good part' of the fight. The death of their enemy.

"Say your lines, Hazel!" He called up to her, about to join her on the slide when-

"SIMON'S GOING TO KILL ME!"

"SIMON'S GOING TO KILL ME-" 

The stick slid between his fingers and clattered against the ground. For a moment, he wasn't at the park anymore- he was somewhere far away. Trapped in a memory that was not his own. His daughter's face had become warped- frightened. Almost inhuman to look at- it's odd eyes bore into his own, fearing for its life-

"Simon?"

"Daddy?" 

A blink, and the image faded. There was his beautiful little girl, her big brown eyes full of concern. Her 'weapon' was at her side. "Daddy? Are you okay?"

"I-I'm fine, monkey." He forced a smile. "Just tired-" 

"You're crying." 

He hadn't noticed he was. The tears never seemed to stop now that he had noticed them. Fat drops slid down his face and rolled down his chin faster than he could wipe them away. In 7 years, he had only ever cried in front of Hazel a few times. Not enough to keep track of. Now here he was, skin itching from tears and face hot from embarrassment. 

"I'm fine- really." A lie, and not a very convincing one. "Just- go back to playing with Ms. Grace... I'm going to go sit down."

"Daddy- I don't want to play if you're not okay." Hazel said, setting down her weapon and rushing to give him a hug. "We do things together. It can wait." 

That girl was truly too pure for the world. Simon sunk to his knees and pulled her in for a tight hug, almost crushing her against his chest. Hazel didn't seem to mind it any, instead she tried to hug him back just as tight. He needed that. Needed an anchor to keep him from drifting off again... 

A warm hand was on his shoulder. He didn't have to look to know who it belonged to. 

"Hey. It's okay." Grace's voice was warm- comforting this time. With a bit of a shake to it. He was sure she was crying too. "I guess we were all hurting..."

"Y-yeah... I guess." Simon muttered. "This is going to sound crazy- but I think we all need a hug-" 

Hazel reached out first and drew Grace in. The woman sank into the hold, and Simon loosened an arm from around Hazel and wrapped it around Grace. It was an awkward, painful hug, but for some reason or another he felt that they needed it. Both of them. 

Hazel snuggled closer to him, breathing a familiar statement into his chest.

"And thus... They won the battle."

Chapter Text

Never in a million years did Grace think she would ever find herself in a place like This. 

Horrifying plastic mannequins of fast food mascots blocked every exit, the smell of old French fries and children's tears lingered in the air, and whatever was stuck to her shoe was definitely NOT coming off...

They were in a McDonald's, sure enough. One with a giant ballpit and a twisty slide of death that lead outside. Even Simon seemed unsure of the place- the poor man's face was twisted so many ways in disgust. 

"Why did we come here again?" He muttered. 

"Your daughter was hungry after playing so much and insisted we come here." Grace mumbled back, wincing at the sudden shriek of a child as they tumbled down the slide. 

The sentence felt strange on her tongue. Back on the train, she had always been the one in charge- both of Hazel and of the rest of the Apex kids. She had always been the responsible one. The one children turned to as a sort of mother figure. Never Simon, and certainly not with Hazel. They had always been like oil and water.

Grace had to remind herself often who this pair was and where she stood with them. This Hazel was not her responsibility- she was Simon's. Not the insane cult leader from the train, but the kind hearted father from the grocery store. 

The kind hearted father who looked ready to have an aneurysm as he watched his child climb around the very filthy jungle gym. 

"Be careful in there, Hazel!" Simon called. "Don't touch anything weird!"

"I won't, daddy!" She replied before disappearing down the slide. An innocent act that briefly took Grace back to their time in the Colour Clock Car. The first and only time she ever got to play with Hazel as a normal child...

That was, until this little monkey came along and insisted Grace come play with them- both at the park and now out to lunch. Her heart nearly tore in two at the suggestions, and yet she went along with them anyhow.

"Daddy! Ms. Grace! I went down a slide and it was fun!" Hazel cried out, rushing back to them as fast as her socked feet would take her. "It went outside and I saw a bird inside the slide!" 

"Thats- great, monkey." Simon winced. "Maybe we shouldn't go down the slide again?" 

"Don't be such a worrier!" Hazel giggled before she turned her sights on Grace. "Come play with me, Ms. Grace!" 

Grace froze, just long enough for Hazel to take her hand and begin to pull. The feel of two small hands wrapped around her's wasn't something foreign to her as her time as a dance instructor, but these hands- and this child- made her blood run cold. Even with 'the air cleared' between them, Grace knew better than to get too comfortable with this family. 

"Oh- I don't know... Wouldn't you rather play with your dad?" She muttered, forcing her best fake smile. 

"Daddy doesn't have a tetanus shot." Hazel replied simply as she pulled harder. "Come oooooon!" 

The woman couldn't help but giggle at the girl's forwardness. She certainly was a leader in training, that was for sure. A strong one too- Grace nearly toppled over from the force of the pull. 

"Hazel, if Ms. Grace doesn't want to play-" 

Grace waved a slender hand in front of Simon. Not just to interject, but because the firm dad voice was something she didn't think she'd ever get used to hearing. It was firm and commanding as her own Simon's had been- but less threatening. Still not something she ever wanted to hear again. 

"No, its okay." Her smile widened. "It could be fun." 

Simon frowned, but nodded silently. He stepped back towards their spot where Hazel's Happy Meal laid abandoned on top of their book. He kept a watchful eye on them, and Grace gulped. Simon in any version didn't seem to trust her as far as he could throw her it seemed... 

'Maybe I should have left when I saw them at the park...' She thought. 'And at the store-'

A flush of embarrassment fell over her cheeks at the thought. In retrospect, she could see now how someone would see that as 'unintentional stalking'. Her cool and collect demeanor at the park now felt a bit assheaded- but she wouldn't tell this Simon that. Not in a million years. 

"Ms. Grace? You gotta put your shoes in here." Hazel's voice drew her back to reality.

The little girl was pointing a chubby finger at a nearby cubbyhole. It was the colour of Grimace and stained with what was hopefully ketchup- Grace made a mental note to throw out her designer boots when she got home. With shaking hands, she reluctantly put them into the cubby and followed Hazel onto the foam mats. Her feet sunk into the plush surface uncomfortably so- but Hazel was still happily running up ahead. 

"Hazel- wait up-" Grace called, trying to keep up with her without stepping into any suspicious puddles.

The little girl was already climbing up the metal bars of the jungle gym, looking back at Grace every so often. The woman smiled back, sent a quick prayer to God, and began to climb after her. "I'm gonna catch up, Hazel!" 

Hazel squealed happily. "No you won't!" 

It became a race- with Hazel scrambling quickly up the bars and Grace following close behind. Grace had a bit of an advantage, what with being a grown adult on a playground meant for children under 10, and quickly caught up. By then, both were giggling like mad, their faces red and their sides aching. They were nearing the platform where the bars met the twisty slide, and Grace reached up and grabbed Hazel's ankle playfully. 

"Nooo! Don't!" Hazel squeaked, kicking at Grace's hand. The little one was shrieking and laughing so loudly. She let go of the bar with one hand and swatted at the older woman. 

Grsce's heart swelled at the sound. Tears were gathering in her eyes as she laughed harder. "I told you I would catch up!" She snickered, shaking the little girl's foot. 

"No you won't!" Hazel kicked again and Grace let go finally. The little girl took the chance to leap away from her- reaching for another section of bar- and missing completely. 

The little girl tumbled down the rest of the way and landed face first on the foam with a thud. Her limp form lay crumpled on the ground- limbs sprawled out randomly. She was silent, but soon sniffles and hiccups began floating up towards Grace, who remainded frozen on the top of the jungle gym. All she could bring herself to do was to watch the girl in horror. 

"Hazel!" Simon's shaken tone sent a knife through Grace's heart. 

The blonde raced over to the child, and pulled her into his lap. Hazel's hiccups and sobs became louder, pained- guilt washed over Grace in buckets. From her spot, she could see red staining Simon's hands and shirt. 

"Simon-" 

Simon didn't seem to notice she was still there, his attention was on Hazel only. "Let me look-" 

Hazel whined louder. "Huuuuurts!" 

"I know, I know." Simon's voice wobbled a little. "Its okay, Hazel."

Grace slid off of the bars and landed gracefully on the floor. Her heart was beating a million miles a minute- the drop now seeming much higher than it actually was. In reality, she knew Hazel hadn't fallen far- but the blood still worried her.

"I-is she okay?" Her mouth asked before her head registered. 

Simon continued to ignore her, wiping Hazel's face with a few napkins. A few employees and other parents had begun to gather around them, curious as to what all the commotion was. Grace's face felt hot again. She felt more unwelcome and uncomfortable now than she had ever been in her life- save for the time she was caught shoplifting when she was 10... Right before the train came to pick her up.

'One-One- If you're trying to come get me, could you please do it now...?' She thought, ranking a shaking hand through her hair. 

Hazel had her face pressed firmly into Simon's chest, still crying loudly. The father carded his fingers through her wild hair gently- then turned his attention to Grace. She had expected anger- for him to blame her for his child's injury. That the old, insane cult Simon would be the one glaring back at her. What she found instead was a tired, apologetic look. 

"I'm sorry, Grace-" Never in a million years did Grace ever think she would be the one receiving an apology from Simon. Any Simon. 

"Y-you're sorry-?" A frown.

"Hazel knows better- I should have been watching her better-" He was rationalizing. His own face was turning red. 

"Hey- these things happen." The woman muttered. She took a shaky step forward and kneeled at his side. "Do you need more napkins?"

Simon gently pushed Hazel away from his chest. The little one had streaks of blood dribbling down her now fat lip, and she was definitely missing another baby tooth. Her big brown eyes were full of tears and embarrassment. "I-I'm sorry I ruined the game, Ms. Grace..."

"W-what-?" Grace's heart shattered. "No- Hazel. You didn't ruin it-" 

Without thinking, Grace ran her dark fingers through Hazel's wild mane. Just as she used to whenever her own Hazel was upset. It felt- odd. Her family on the train- when she left them- all of the blame had been on her. 

'You're a broken record Grace... This isn't the Train and this isn't Simon and Hazel. Let them go.' 

Tears sprung into the corners of her eyes as she smoothed back the little one's hair. A tangled mess she never thought she'd feel again in her lifetime. 

"You're crying-?" Hazel sniffled, slowly raising her head. "D-don't cry, Ms. Grace. I'm okay- really!"

Tiny arms wrapped around Grace's waist tightly. Blood and tears were sinking into her clothes, but she couldn't bring herself to care. Her own arms wrapped themselves around Hazel tightly and she buried her face in the cloud of locks, crying freely into them. "I-I'm glad you're okay..."

"I don't like when you cry..." Hazel muttered into her stomach. "You and daddy cry a lot."

"Yeah..." Grace peaked at Simon though the gaps in Hazel's hair. The man was still clutching a pile of napkins in one hand- face still riddled with a mix of pride and worry. "Your dad needs to lighten up."

Hazel giggled, and nuzzled the woman's belly. "I'm always telling him that..."

A smile spread across the woman's face. The last of her tears dried up near instantly. "Maybe we should get him to play with us? Its safer if we all play together." 

The child sprung away from her as if she had been struck by lightning. The blood was gone from her face and she wore a wide, toothless grin. Every fiber of her being seemed to shake with excitement. "Thats right! Daddy, now you have to play with us!"

"What- Hazel, no!"

"You don't want me to get hurt again, do you?" The blonde haired girl giggled. "Come ooooooon!" 

"Hazel- we need to get you cleaned up, over to grandma's, and your tooth needs to get under your pillow-" Simon was cut off by Hazel's dirty hand clasping over his face. Grace could see his soul leave his body and a million kid germs enter. 

"It can wait! Loooooosen up, daddy!" Hazel squeaked, shaking her father about with her free hand. 

"I have a meeting in an hour-" Simon spoke around her hand. "Come on, tell Ms. Grace bye and-"

"Ms. Grace can come with us to grandma's!" The girl ran off to collect their shoes before Simon had a chance to protest. Grace held back a chuckle. 

"She bounced back pretty quick." 

"She gets that from me." Simon muttered and shook his head. "You might want to sneak out now while she distracted." 

"And miss meeting her grandma?" Grace teased. "... I'll sneak out the back."

"Good thinking." Simon shot her a smirk and stood up quickly. "I'll tell Hazel you had to go to work." 

Dark eyes shot over to where Hazel sat- currently fumbling with her own shoes. The left shoe was on the right foot and the other was upside down. Grace's own shoes were trapped. There was no way of getting to them without getting caught... Oh well. She had a spare pair in her car. 

"Tell Hazel I said 'bye' and I guess I'll see you around." Grace whispered to Simon. "Thanks for letting me play with her."

She turned away quickly, the exit in her sights. If she walked quick enough, she could be at her car before anyone noticed her lack of shoes. 

Before she could even take a step forward, however, Simon caught her wrist and stuffed a wad of napkins into it. Grace winced, and her nose wrinkled, even if none of the napkins felt contaminated. 

"Toss that on your way out." He muttered before hurrying off to help Hazel with her shoes. 

Grace frowned, but made her way to the back exit, far away from Hazel's view. The nearest trashcan was overfilled, and Grace was running out of time before the Laurents would be leaving-

'Screw it... I'll throw it out at home.' 

Slipping out the back door, Grace made her way to her car and ducked safely inside. A sigh of relief left her, and she sat the pile of napkins in the cupholder when- a note on the corner of the thin white material caught her eye. 

'In case Hazel wanted to play with you again, heres our number:

#377-905-3375

-Simon'

Chapter Text

It had been three days.

Yet that napkin in her pocket still felt like a lead weight. Everytime Grace had thought to add the number on it into her phone contacts- she froze up. A memory from an old life would come up and stop her from moving forward. The napkin would be tucked away further, out of sight out of mind. With the age old excuse of 'I'll do it later' before hoping that later would never come. 

But then the curiosity would sink in. The wonder of what *could* happen if she sent *one* message. Something innocent, just inquiring about Hazel. Nothing out of the ordinary. Normal-

Normal

There was a word she wasn't used to. Grace's life had never been normal. Between being a very rich child, a shoplifter, to a cult leader on a murder train- and now an adult who had been to every therapist she could reach. Trying to find one that would make her normal in three sentences or less- Up until recently, she had even fooled herself into thinking that maybe one had cured her. That the murder train, cult leader part of her life was just some crazy story she made up- 

And then she met him again- and she was back to being crazed. Running outside underdressed, having episodes on the daily instead of yearly- willingly touching McDonald's playland equipment. Every little thing about him seemed to trigger long forgotten warning flags or caused her to act without thinking- but that wasn't his fault. It was her own Simon who had ruined her in the end... It was the crazed, angry version of her friend that still made her feel so bad even though he was long gone. Even though parts of it hadn't been her fault at all- 

I hope you're satisfied, Simon...

Intrusive thoughts shifted suddenly to the boy on the train. His smug expressions, the way he loomed over her menacingly during their final fight- how he had always been so quick to lose his temper if something or someone didn't fit into his view of the world. Many nights were spent picking apart her memories of him, trying to find where their pure and innocent friendship had ended- if it ever had been that way. She picked it apart under the memories were nothing but mud. Too far away to see clearly anymore. 

Sometimes, it was a struggle to bring forth an image of her friend's face. It had been so long that she wasn't even sure if it was his face she was remembering, or just a character she had created to stand in his place. That was entirely possible. Train!Simon had always been the details expert, not her. 

For example, while she knew her Simon had blonde hair and blue eyes, the exact shade was lost to her. Were his eyes even blue, or had they been more silver like the Simon who worked at the store? A stranger's guess was as good as her's. Likewise, Grace could remember her Hazel had blonde hair too, but nothing else about the colour other than it had been darker than Simon's- which even that seemed incorrect the harder she thought of it. 

This new Hazel looked enough like her's to be recognizable- enough to trigger old memories- but some of the details were off. This child's hair was tawny blonde and actually matched Not-Simon's, her smile was a bit too crooked, and even the child's nose looked different at times. In fact, the longer Grace thought on it, the more unfamiliar the new pair seemed to her- Or had the real ones always looked this way and she was simply remembering them wrong? 

Maybe I just need to get out of my head for a bit... 

"Grace? Grace!" For once, her mother's timing was perfect. "I asked you a question."

"You did?" Grace looked up and took in her surroundings. 

They were in the dining room with her father. Dinner had been cleared away in the time Grace spent pondering and desert had taken its place. Or- it did. The icecream on top had since melted over what she assumed had been a cake of some kind once. It left an unattractive sludge in its place. She pushed it away before turning to look back at her mother. 

"Yes. I asked if you had any plans this Saturday." Her mother went on, "The Wellingtons are in town and they have a son about your age-"

"Mom, seriously?" Grace rolled her eyes so far up to the heavens she was sure she spoted Tuba. 

"Well, you blew it with that single father from earlier, and you haven't found a date on your own-" 

Grace's face felt hot, but she willed the feeling away. Her mother wasn't- wrong? But trying to set her up with someone was- No. That was something she had been expecting for a long time now. Their social media person had already tried setting up dating profiles for Grace without much luck. A parental arrangement was that next step. Just like any normal family trying to marry their daughter off-

"This could be your only chance at marriage at this rate." Ever the optimist, her mother was. 

"Thanks, but I'll pass." A rock settled at the pit in her stomach. Her mother wasn't going to take that for an answer. "I'm- busy that day..." 

"Oh? With that?" The older woman knew her daughter's work schedule by heart- so there was no using that as an excuse. None of Grace's old friends were in town either- 

"I made plans with-" 

Suddenly that napkin in her jacket pocket felt like it weighed a thousand pounds...

"Simon." The napkin was tugged out secretly, along with her phone. With some fanagaling, she managed a quick text before her mother could take notice. 

Grace: Hey, its Grace. Are you and Hazel busy this Saturday? 

"Simon?" The older woman's head tipped to one side.

"The dad- we actually went out the other day and it went well." Lies. It went awful, but her mother didn't need to know that. 

In fact, the woman looked perfectly happy with the news, as vague as it was. Relieved even. 

"Thats wonderful. What ar-" 

Grace rose quickly from her chair, gathering her plate up as she did. If she stayed any longer, her mother would surely catch her in a lie. "We're still working that out. I'll be in my room. Love you, mom!" 

Her heart was racing so loud she didn't hear what her mother had called after her. Not that it mattered. She was hanging on by a thread thin lie, that could snap depending on Simon's response. Her Simon would have caught on and ran with it, but this Simon- she had no idea. 

This Simon who played make-believe in the park, worked customer service, and whose entire world centered around her child. This was one who was cautious, but not overly so, and willing to admit to his own faults. Who she saw cry from somebody else's pain and love someone unconditionally. So unlike her own, was he- she could see that now.

*Ping!*

And yet her heart still skipped a beat when she checked her phone. 

Simon: We're free. Did you have something in mind? Hazel was just asking about you.

Grace: Lunch? To make up for what happened last time?

*Simon is typing* 

Simon: Sure! 

Grace: Great! Its a date.

Chapter Text

6:00pm

2 and a half hours to Hazel's bedtime. It was also bath time. Dinner had ended over an hour ago, but even a full tummy seemed to do little in getting Hazel to slow down. The little tornado had kicked up so much water that Simon was currently seeking refuge on top of the bathroom counter. The "flooded" floor below serving as a grissly reminder that it was laundry day and all available towels (save for Hazel's) were downstairs in the dryer. 

'It's what I get for having a living bouncy ball for a daughter...'

A sudden squirt of water from a garbage bound rubber ducky drew his attention back to the tub. Though he couldn't see Hazel under the *MASSIVE* pile of bubbles, he knew she was still there from the two eyes that were peaking mischievously up at him. Even the rubber ducky seemed ready to launch an all out attack on him-

"Try me, child." He smirked, "And I'll tell Santa to skip our house this year."

A gasp, "You wouldn't!" 

"Do you really want to try it?" All jokes aside- this was his last tshirt for the night. The last thing he wanted was soapy bath water on it. Mixed with whatever other germs his kid had. The thought of it made him wrinkle his nose.

"Okay- I won't." Hazel huffed, pushing the bubbles out of the way of her face and stacking them on top of her head. "Look! I'm Ms.Grace!" 

"Ms. Grace doesn't have poofy hair." The man looked up, searching his memory for what the exact hairstyle looked like. "She has braids and a bun."

"But she used to have fluffy hair. When she was younger." The little girl smiled so innocently-

Yet- a familiar feeling of unease ran down Simon's spine at the comment. Something about his child's tone was a little too knowing. Just as it was when she had first said that they both *knew* Ms. Grace. It felt as though there was a blank spot in his memory. A sort of inside joke that he was meant to be in on but was excluded from for whatever the reason-

"Hazel? Why do you keep talking like that?" He asked, rising from the counter slowly. His shoes sloshed around on the wet tile, but it didn't bother him as much as it had earlier. 

"Like what, daddy?" 

He winced. Though nothing had changed about his dau- Hazel's tone- it sounded wrong. As though she had meant to say something in place of 'daddy'. Something more formal-

Its great... Thank you, Simon-

A dull throb entered his head. Two small hammers beat against his temples- trying to break through whatever wall was separating him from reality. At least- thats how it felt. It certainly hurt. 

"Daddy? You're crying again-" And just like that- the feeling was gone. His headache ebbed away, and more importantly- his daughter sounded like herself again. 

"I-I'm fine, kiddo." The blonde half-lied, brushing a tear or two away from his eyes. "Just a headache..."

"Is that why you didn't answer my question?" Right- she had asked him something...

"Just- sometimes when you say things about Ms. Grace- you sound like we already know her from a long time ago." Forcing a smile, he attempted to mask his discomfort. 

"Does it scare you sometimes when I talk like that?" Hazel asked, voice soft. 

There was no use lying. "A little... Hazel, I don't want to scare you- but sometimes when you talk like that you sound different-"

Little hands clasped his own shaking ones tightly. "You don't have to be scared of me, daddy! I'm only fooling, really-!" 

Panic was evident in his child's voice. Her bottom lip was quivering like crazy and the pain in Simon's head had returned with a vengeance. In his eyes, Hazel was beginning to look different again- like she had at the park. A greenish tint poked through the bubbles, but disappeared whenever he would blink-

'A null!' 

Simon forced the thought from his mind. Wherever they were coming from- it wasn't his own mind. Hazel- his child- wasn't changing in front of him. She was scared and so was he and that would have to come first. These delusions could be dealt with after she fell asleep... 

Hazel always came first.

"Hazel-" The shaking in his hands stilled as he cupped his child's face firmly. "I'm not afraid of you, okay? You're my whole world and nothing is going to change that, got it?" 

"B-but what if I say the wrong thing again?" Fat tears slid down the girl's pudgy face. "W-would you leave me if I sounded different?"

"No! Absolutely not!" Simon pulled her close to him. "You'd still be Hazel... Okay?"

"Okay..." Hazel nuzzled his chest. "I love you, daddy..."

His heart stilled in his chest. Tears welled in his eyes again- but for a much different reason now. He felt relieved- for some reason. If felt as though they had just overcome a major obstacle or a test of some kind- for once, it felt like he had a right to his title- to say he loved her back, because he did love her more than anything. Nothing in this world could change that. 

"I love you too, monkey." He muttered, eyes closing for just a minute. "I think- I think I might need to go and talk to someone again."

"Talk to someone like Ms. Grace or therapy?" The girl giggled, voice muffled against his chest. "Cause you already went to a therapist when I was a baby."

"Thats right-" He smiled, fond and geuine. "I think I still have a bug or two left in my brain though..."

Hazel giggled louder, pushing away from him enough that he could see her face. "Thats silly! But if you wanna go to the head-vaccumist, I fully support you." 

"Thanks, Hazel-Nut." Simon huffed, "What would I do without you?"

Her cute expression harded suddenly. "You would die, until you're dead-" 

That sounded- familiar-

"Oh, and daddy?"

"Yes, Hazel?"

"You got your shirt all wet." 

8:00pm

It was the time of day Hazel dreaded but Simon always looked forward to: bedtime. 

In the Laurent household this meant one last call for snacks, some Esmoroth writing, and finally sleep. Most nights, they only managed a chapter and a half before Hazel fell asleep, lulled by the gentle clacking of her dad's laptop keys. Tonight, however, they had only gotten half way through a single chapter before Hazel set her notes aside and sighed.

"Tired already?" Simon frowned, "Right in the middle of a battle scene?"

"No- just thinking other things." Hazel huffed, "We have enough material so you can write without me-"

"Uh oh. Someone has something on their mind." Laptop tossed aside, Simon scooped Hazel up from her spot on the foot of the bed and laid down with her on his chest. "Now, whats up?"

"Its about Ms. Grace-" Uh oh... Not this again... "She hasn't called us yet."

Oh.... Even worse. "It's only been 3 days, Hazel. She's probably busy-" 

"Or ignoring us." That was a good possibility too, yes. "Have you texted her?"

"No. She never gave me her number-" A little fist hit his chest. "Hey- what was that for?" 

"How is she supposed to know you're interested if you don't make the first move!?" 

Simon's face turned 20 shades of red. Maybe more- it was hard to tell. "H-Hazel!? Where did you hear that from!?"

"Grandma." He should have known. 

"Hazel, if Ms. Grace wanted me to talk to her first, she would have given me her number. Theres not much more we can do besides wait and see-"

*Ping!*

Unknown Number: Hey, its Grace. Are you and Hazel busy this Saturday? 

"Speak of the Devil..." Simon hummed, staring down at his phone. 

"Well? Say we're not busy!" Hazel exclaimed.

"And why would I do that?" The man frowned.

"Because you say lying is a bad thing and this may be your only shot." 

"... Fair enough."

Simon: We're free. Did you have something in mind? Hazel was just asking about you-

The reply was near instant. So fast, it was almost as if the conversation had been typed out ahead of time...

Grace: Lunch? To make up for what happened last time?

From the corner of his eye Simon could see Hazel's big, puppy dog eyes. She wanted to see her friend again so badly- yet he *still* felt unsure of what to type. After much deliberation- he sent a response. 

Simon: Sure! 

That sounded casual enough. Based on Hazel's thumbs up, he assumed it was. The exclamation point was a bit much though. 

Grace: Great! Its a date.

His face paled, all the blood from his blush having run off the moment he read "date". He could practically hear the gears as the ground in Hazel's head. The child was no moron. She knew what the word meant- or rather what it could mean in context.

"Wait- Did she just ask you out on a 'date-date'- or is this just a 'date'?"

"Hazel! Time to go to bed!"  It was too late in the night for them to be having this conversation. A better time would be- never. He was never going to discuss 'dating' with his child, espeically if it involved him.

"But its still early-!"

"Bed!" 

Chapter Text

The rest of the week past by in a daze for Grace. Work was mundane as ever on Friday, with nothing but warm-ups and dance routine practices. The girls were getting the hang of the dance so quickly that they hardly needed Grace's help other than in a few places. This left the instructor with nothing to do but watch, take notes, and occasionally gossip with the teacher's aids. 

"I think Ms. Tiffany's group has an honest shot this year." Her co-teached Jillian?  said. "Don't you think so Grace?"

Whatever her name was, she was a deeply tanned skinned, freckle faced Irish woman with stupidly red hair and above all was a Grade-A pain in the ass. Even as a co-lead, she was a year older than Grace and acted as though that meant she had more experience in dance... Talking to her was like being pecked to death by a chicken.

Espeically whenever she brought up Ms. Tiffany- an up and coming performer and instructor who performed with the Rockettes one year yet couldn't do it again to save her life. The same could be said about her teaching. Compared to Grace's group- those girls didn't stand a chance.

Still... It paid to make nice with potential competition. 

"Yeah- a real shot." Grace grunted, lying right through her teeth. "They've improved so much!"

"I know! Its so inspiring!" Lillian? Giggled, her crooked bottom teeth flashing as she did. It took every muscle in Grace's face not to roll her eyes. "I hear they're coming into class this Saturday for extra practice- they're so committed! What about your girls?" 

Grace ground her teeth together. Despite the sugary sweet attitude of the other woman- she knew she was being baited. Answer truthfully, and the rest of the teachers would whisper about how 'unprepared' and 'uncommitted' her class was. Lie then get found out and she'd be labled as 'desperate'... But tell a half truth and-

"You know, we totally planned to come in on Saturday, but something came up." She was all but seething behind a clenched jaw, but she was sure Millie? Hadn't noticed. "A male something."

"Oh my goodness! Grace Monroe finally going on a date!?" BILLIE! HER NAME WAS BILLIE! Exclaimed. Her eyes were filled with stars and Grace could practically see smoke coming out of her nose. "I want to hear everything!"

Finally- some gossip that would get her some credit around this place... "Its no big deal. His daughter is enrolling in my class-"

"He has kids!? Girl, you need to get on that!" The woman clasped both of her hands around Grace's, "Your biological clock is ticking!"

You sound like my mother, you redheaded *freak*! "I know, I know. I think this might be the one- he's super nice and a great dad!"

On the outside, Grace was smiling- on the inside she was ripping her hair out. That would keep the ladies out of her hair for a bit- at least when it came to bothering her about the competitions they had coming up. If the 'date' went well enough, she could stretch that story right up until after the first competition was over. 

Just some storytelling... Easy.

"Do you have an outfit picked out yet?" Scratch that easy part. This was an investment.

"Um- I was thinking-" Grace didn't have time to finish before a phone was being shoved in her face. 

"Text the girls! We have to get you the perfect outfit for your date!" She all but shrieked, rushing over to the teachers' hooks to grab her bag.

"Aww- you *really* don't have to do that-" The smile she wore was so forced it physically hurt."

"Class is almost over, and you need all the help you can get!" The woman dashed from the studio. Grace could hear her stomping noisily down the hall like she was off to tell the other's the British were coming...

"Dumb goofy bitch..." 

The week had been going by so quickly- yet Friday was starting to feel as though it would go on forever...

Fall had definitely arrived that Saturday.

The temperature had dropped during the night to a crisp 58 degrees. Warm enough that a light jacket felt appropriate, but cold enough that sandals did not. Grace would have worn sneakers, but her mother and co-workers had berated the idea for being "too casual for a date"... 

Its what I get for lying to my mom...

A sharp, crisp breeze blew through Grace, and she wrapped her jacket tightly around her in an attempt to stave off the chill. She had been waiting about a half hour for Simon- having snuck out of the house before her mother could press her with more questions. If there was one thing her mother hated more than casual wear, it was catching someone in a white lie. 

"Come on, Simon... It's freezing it..." Grace muttered, glancing down at her phone. "Why didn't I just agree to take separate cars? That was an option."

Grace: Eta?

Simon: Not long. Sorry. 

Grace: * I'm freezing my ass off! Get here soon!*

That last message went unsent. It wasn't his fault for the weather. It wasn't her fault either. Just Mother Nature at work as always. Sending the cold and a light drizzle at the worst possible time- 

Grace's mother had spent hours with her at the salon getting ready. Her hair had been done up in an elegant braided bun with her edges laid for the Gods. A maroon, quarter sleeve wrap dress had been picked out to match her make-up, and a thin black duster with matching sandals completed the look. Not too flashy- but not as all casual. In fact, the woman was starting to feel a little overdressed. 

Too late to change now- this is the Grace that Simon is getting...

Bright headlights shone up ahead. Even in the glare, Grace could make out the familiar blonde in the driver side of the vehicle. He had his hair pulled back and no glasses for once. A light grey button-down shirt with an undone collar, rolled up sleeves, and black jeans completed the look. All in all, he looked nice. Simon offered her an apologetic wave as he slowed to a stop before her. Grace wasted no time in scrambling into the passenger seat and sank into it's warmth. 

"Sorry for making you wait." Simon chuckled. "Were you outside for a while?"

"Not too long." Grace muttered as she rubbed her still freezing arms. 

She tossed a glance into the backseat, hoping to see the energetic blonde child and finding nothing but an empty car seat. A frown threatened to plaster itself onto her face, but she wiped it away quickly and looked ahead.

"Hazel is at grandma's." Simon said as he pulled out of her driveway and started off towards the street. "We have to pick her up."

"Fine by me. It just gives us time to talk. Adult to adult." She reached out and nudged him in the shoulder, an act that drew a small smile from Simon. 

"Fair enough. What should we talk about?" 

"The economy? How the stockmarket is doing?" 

It had been a hot minute since Grace had someone her own age to talk to. Not since- well, since the Train. After what happened, she found herself having difficulty with relating to others of her age group. Even at work, the other instructors were a few years older than her. Old enough to only ever really discussed their children and husbands and one or two of them were pregnant and/or engaged. Not exactly things Grace had experience in or wanted to talk about. 

"Taxes and politics?" Simon asked casually. His small smile had grown, and he seemed much more relaxed. Playful even.

In turn, Grace began to relax as well. "We could talk taxes and politics." 

"Do we know enough to talk in depth about it?" The simple answer: Probably not. 

"Nope." A pause, "We could just talk about Hazel."

"Thats a great topic." A cheeky grin spread across the man's face. "I warn you though- I am a Hazel expert."

The man's eyes were sparkling now. So bright Grace could swear she saw stars in them. Once upon a time, she knew a boy would used to look at her with those same stars. Now that admiration belonged to another girl. 

"Did you give dance lessons any more thought?" Grace asked, "Theres openings in my room still."

"Actually, yes. Hazel even picked out a dance outfit and everything." 

"Oh really? Then shes all set- save for some paperwork and actually enrolling." 

A matching chuckle left the pair simultaneously, followed by a comfortable silence that was only interrupted whenever Simon put on his turn signal to turn left. Houses were speeding by now, and Grace began to wonder which one belonged to Mrs. Laurent. Some houses were nice, others not so much. She was curious what sort of house this world's version of Simon had grown up in, or-

"So this grandma is your mom?" She spoke quickly. The absolutely ridiculous question left before she could stop it. 

Simon didn't even blink. "Yep..." 

"Sorry- that was a dumb question." Grace sighed, "I guess I'm just nervous."

"About what?" Simon glanced over at her quickly. 

"I don't usually go out." She admitted, "It's been a while."

The man frowned. "You went out with us that one time-"

"You know what I mean."

"I... I guess I do." That frown only seemed to deepen. "I haven't been out much since Hazel was a baby."

"Really? You seemed to be good buddies with your co-worker." 

"Thats just Jesse. Hes a work buddy, but not someone I hang out with." Another left, and Simon was driving slower now. "Like I said. I don't usually go out with Hazel being so small."

"So small? Shes 7! My parents went out all the time when I was 7-"

Went out may have been an understatement. Impromptu vacations was more like it. They never bothered to tell her, always assuming someone else would... She didn't typically notice their absence until a small 'souvenir' from their trip showed up in her bedeoom.

That was just as a child, however. Ever since her return, there wasn't a single vacation her parents didn't try to drag her on. Even on couple's retreats, they had always insisted she come with. Whether it was due to guilt over her running away or wanting to keep an eye on her- she wasn't sure and didn't bother worrying about. 

Maybe I can convince Simon and Hazel to come with next time-

"7 is small enough." Simon mumbled, "Once shes moved out I'll consider it-"

"You're- protective of her-" That sentence felt strange leaving her mouth.

"She's my daughter. She and my mom are all I have... We take care of each other."

'The Apex takes care of each other.' 

That had been their motto once. A colourful lie uses to lure unsuspecting children into their murderous cult. Even with no doubt in her mind that this Simon was as sane as he could be, Grace felt a sense of unease. The overprotective nature, secret codes, and inability to be separated from Hazel for so long seemed normal- just parent things- but when put under the scope of the Apex it was beginning to sound controlling. Her Simon had held captured Apex children against their will- whose to say this Simon hadn't done the same? 

'Don't break character until after I sign you out'

'Danger, leave now.'

'Plead the fifth-'

The more Grace mulled over it, the more she was reminded of her final days with her own turtle companion. Having the girl hide herself- to play a role and to run when she said- all to keep her 'safe'. 

"Grace? Are you okay?" The tender tone was foreign to her. "You're hyperventilating."

She hadn't noticed. "I'm fine-" Time for some of her best acting. Grace took a gulp of air, forced her heart to slow, and pulled a smile that deserved an Oscar. "Just some motion sickness on those turns."

There was a microrreaction from Simon, but Grace spotted it right away. He seemed suspicious at first, but now wore the same relaxed look as before. "Oh! I have some hard candies in the glovebox if you need them... Mom says they help with that." 

An opening... Time to ask personal questions-

"Thats so nice of your mom." Her smile brightened, but she made no move to take a candy. "Moms always have some sort of wisdom, don't they?"

"Yeah- they really do." Simon's eyes were focused on the road again, but occasionally he would glance back over at Grace. Seemingly studying her. 

"... Was Hazel's mom like that?" 

-The car screeched to a halt, so fast and hard that Grace nearly flew forward. Simon's grip on the steering wheel had tightened to the point of his knuckles being white. His jaw was set- Grace watched as he pupils shrank. Pale skin had gone paper white in a near instance-

This is the road you die on...

"That racoon came out of nowhere!" ... What?

Dark eyes glanced out the window. A large, thief looking animal skittered angrily across the road, yelping and hissing at the car as though it were cursing at them. The topic of Hazel's mom was damn near forgotten.

"That thing is huge!" The woman shrieked. "I think it would have smashed the car if you hit it!"

The blonde laughed nervously, "I don't know about you, but that scared the Hell out of me-"

"Yeah- me too." A giggle passed her lips, "At least you stopped in time."

"Yeah- you okay?"

He was smiling at her- that same lopsided grin of his. It was kindly, warm- without a hint of malice of alternate motive behind it. The kind of smile she *wished* she could have gotten from her friend. Her heart actually fluttered from it.

Wrong time to swoon, Grace. This is an interrogation!

"I-I'm fine-" You are such a damn virgin! Focus, girl! 

"Good- sorry. You asked something before that, right? I didn't hear it." Was he being honest, or giving her a way out?

Screw being subtle. "I asked if Hazel's mom was like that-"

That beautiful grin vanished in an instance- so quickly that Grace wasn't sure if it had even been there or if it would ever return. Warm eyes went cold, and Simon's gaze became far away. He seemed to be in mourning- or thinking of a cover story. Expressions like that could really go either way. 

"She... Was..." He sighed at last. "I don't remember that year very well. Hazel was very small and I was going through a dark time... I was in and out of therapy- that part of my life is like a black void whenever I try to remember it."

Oh... "O-Oh...?"

"It's nothing serious now- Hazel and I are doing much better and I'm fine with where we're at." By some miracle- that smile returned. 

Okay... So he isn't my ex-friend turned child stealing cult leader who somehow escaped the train after dying... Just a normal dad who I accidentally stalked and then asked out on a date... Crap! He told me all of that too!

"Thats good." Grace breathed, "I'm glad to hear it." On the plus side- he's sane, cute, and has an adorable sidekick.

"We're here by the way-" Right. She nearly forgot they had been on their way to pick up Hazel. 

The house they had stopped in front of was- simple by Grace's standards. Just a normal powder blue house with a neatly kept lawn and white picket fence. An older woman with faded brown hair sat on a porch swing, and waved when the couple pulled into the driveway. She had a kind face, a lopsided grin that matched her son's. 

"Hazel is in the livingroom." She called to them. "She wanted her outfit to be a surprise-"

"How ridiculous does it look?" Simon asked as he exited the car. 

"You'd best think of something very sad before you go in there." Mrs. Laurent replied, "Its very humorous..."

"I'll go look- you can entertain Grace while I'm going." With that, Simon rushed up the porch and disappeared into the house.

No sooner had the door shut did the older woman rise and cross over to the passenger side window. She taped once, twice, then Grace rolled down the window. The younger woman's heart was tight. The older woman's expression was unreadable.

"So, you are the one who plans to steal my son and granddaughter." Her voice was sickly sweet- it reminded Grace of a certain red-headed co-worker of her's.

"Steal? Not at all." Grace didn't bother to force a smile. She had the feeling Mrs. Laurent would be able to see right through it. "I just wanted to take them to lunch."

"I don't believe that- but I don't believe you are the honest type." Her lopsided smile dropped into a frown. "Be good to my boy, if you will. I'd hate to lose him again."

Grace frowned deeply. "Again-?"

Before Mrs.Laurent could reply- Hazel burst from the front door. She was clad in an oversized suitjacket, pale purple sundress, top hat, and had half a million pigtails in her hair. Her shoes were *definitely* on the wrong feet, and the tie she wore fell down passed her knees. To say she looked ridiculous would be an understatement. Cute was the better word. 

"Look at you, Hazel." Grace said, trying to suppress the urge to burst out laughing. "Did you dress yourself?" 

"I sure did! I wanted to look fancy for our date today!" Hazel replied, giving a little twirl. "Grandma has the best fancy clothes. I wasn't sure what your accents would be, so I just wore everything!" 

From the doorway, Simon looked ready to die from the amount of laughter he was holding in. He shot Grace a near desperate look- a silent conversation of 'keep it together! If you laugh, I laugh!'. 

"S-she sure does." The father snickered, lifting his little monkey into the air. "Say bye bye to grandma and lets head out, okay?"

"Okay! Bye bye, grandma! I'll see you after our date!" 

"Bye sweetie! Be good for daddy and- his friend." There was a hint od disdain in that tone, but Grace ignored it. 

This was going to be a fun day- she hoped. 

Since everyone was so dressed up, and Grace was buying, she got to pick the resturant. Some place sit down, fine dining, but also with chicken nuggets for Hazel's sake. This landed them at a little Bistro at the end of town. It wasn't high end, but it had good music and food and a great view of a nearby lake. By the time they arrived, the clouds had parted and gave way to a beautiful sunshiney sky. Hazel was the first out of the car, and all but ran to the door. 

"Hazel, wait up!" Grace called after her. 

"But I have to get the door for you cause you're our date!" Hazel yelled back. 

"Thats kind of you Hazel, but I got it- why don't you go pick us out a seat instead?"

Hazel's little eyes sparkled,  "Okay! I'll get a window seat!" She rushed inside without another word, but Grace could hear her exclamation of 'Table for 3, please! With a window!'.

"She knows what she wants." Grace muttered, earning a nudge from Simon. The man then walked passed her and pulled open the door. 

"Hazel can be a real Karen at times." The father snickered, "After you."

Grace covered her mouth and laughed into her hand, "Simon Laurent. Such a gentleman."

"I learned from Hazel." He teased. 

The two shared a quick, knowing laugh and then entered the establishment together. The warm smell of spaghetti and bread greeted them. Soft music played from an unknown location, and just up ahead at her window seat was Hazel, easily charming a waitress with her cuteness. 

"I'm on a date today with my daddy and our friend Ms. Grace!" The little girl was saying between bites of a complimentary dinner roll. "This is the best bread ever!"

"I'm glad you like it, little one. Can I bring you a placemat and something to drink?" The waitress seemed like she could hardly contain herself from cuteness. Grace honestly couldn't blame her. 

"Yes please. Preferably a placemat with a maze and some chocolate milk, please!" It was offical. That Laurent family smile was the cutest thing Grace had ever seen. Espeically when it was worn by Hazel. 

Simon moved closer to Grace, whispering so only she could hear. "She's got everyone wrapped around her finger." 

"She really does." Grace smiled. She then slipped her hand into Simon's and directed him to their side of the booth. It was smaller in that side, and their shoulders touched, but neither seemed to mind it. 

"Do you know what you want to eat, Hazel?" Simon asked.

"More bread, please!" Even Grace had expected that answer. 

"You have to eat something besides bread. What about chicken strips?"

"Is that derivative of a 'nugget' or no?" The child wrinkled her nose. "Cause if its not, then no thank you."

"It is- It's just a fancy word for nugget." Grace added, nudging Simon a little.

He sent a quick nod her way. "Grace is right- they're fancy nuggets." 

"Oooh! Then I'll get the fancy nuggets!" Hazel beamed. "And what are you two getting?"

"Spaghetti-" They hadn't planned to say that in unison- really they hadn't. But Hazel's eyes still took on a mischievous glint.

"Oooh! You two are finishing each other's sentences!" She gasped happily.

"W-what? No! That wasn't even a sentence!" Simon gasped, hiding his now red face behind a menu. 

"You two are gonna get married now!" Hazel giggled loudly. "Married! Married! Married!"

"Finish your bread, Hazel!"

Grace smirked fondly at the bickering pair. There was something absolutely endearing about it. For once, she didn't feel any sort of unease. She felt- light and free for the first time in a while. Free to sit back and watch in sheer embarrassment as the child now stood up in her seat and loudly declared to the restaurant that 'Ms. Grace and daddy are getting married!'. 

*Ping!* 

Usually, Grace wouldn't answer her phone while in somebody else's company. She had often considered it rude- but this time she had a good reason to answer this. Anything to avoid eye contact with those around them while Simon settled Hazel down. With minimal success.

Mom: How's it going?

Grace: Its going really great. I'm glad I went out tonight.

*Mom is typing*

Mom: Good! I'm so proud of you. Bring him by later if you get the chance. 

Grace: Sure thing mom.

Chapter Text

Sometimes, it felt like Grace was watching a Hallmark channel original movie about the world's most perfect family. 

Hazel got her chicken nuggets and was happily had been happily stuffing them in her face one after the other. She commented on how good they were once, but spent less time actually chewing and more time swallowing them whole. Like a little baby python- or like a very hungry 6 or 7 year old who just wanted to eat. 

That was until Simon interrupted. "Hazel, slow down. You're gonna choke."

Hazel stopped, finished chewing, and finally swallowed properly. "I thought you said you know the hiemlich maneuver?"

"That doesn't mean I want to use it." The man muttered as he grabbed a napkin and wiped the girl's face. "It's also rude, Hazel."

"The hiemlich maneuver?" Smartass.

"In some cases, yes it is." Bigger smartass. 

Grace couldn't help but laugh quietly at the antics. Lunch and a show wasn't what she had planned on, but its what she was getting. Her own lunch consisted of some *very* good spaghetti and a side of vegetables (kept far away from Hazel, as the girl wrinkled her nose whenever she saw them.). Grace had opted for getting a glass of wine for lunch, but settled on water instead. It was a simple lunch, but it was enough for her. This was a treat for the Laurents after all. 

When she looked up, the pair was having a miniature sword fight with two breadsticks. Quietly, of course, as to not draw anyone else's attention, even if the bistro was close to empty this time of day. They were so wrapped up in their own little world that Grace decided to escape to her own for a little while...

There was someone she wanted to pay a visit to. 

The Train had once been a whimsical place. When she first arrived, it was a guilded white train with a red carpet all rolled out for her. Each car had an element of fun to it and for some time she traveled alone, constantly at play in them. She was free to explore wherever she wanted without anyone else telling her what to do.

It was a paradise for some time- but then she grew lonely. The girl longed for a companion to play with. That was when the Train sent her a friend... It was also the last time the Train had ever heard her prayers. The boy they sent her lived on borrowed time. Even when they met, it was a creature of the Train who had abandoned him and another who tried to kill him. This lead to years of being his knight. Building a castle and guards around them both. They became the king and queen of their own little nation. 

The Train was no longer safe, no longer fun- yet like children they had continued to play pretend. Always fighting a make believe battle that- in some ways they had always known hadn't been true. But in the end, her friend had gotten much too far into the game. When Grace wanted to stop playing, when she grew up finally, Simon didn't. He continues to play right up until the bitter end- making up his own rules and expecting the others to follow along. 

Amelia and Tuba had been right- even at 18, they really were just children. Two scared children pretending to be soldiers of a King that didn't love them. A pair torn apart by pride, never getting the chance to apologize to one another-

How would it have gone?

"You tried to kill me." Blunt and straightforward. That was usually Simon's way of doing things. 

"I know..." His voice was empty, face hidden behind his hair. "I know."

"... Why?" Grace looked up, "I was your friend, Simon-"

"You were going to leave me." He hissed back, hiding further behind his hair.

"I stayed by your side until you left me, Simon. You betrayed me, not the other way around." They both knew it was true. Just as they had known their game was pretend. 

"I didn't betray you-" A lie, but the truth within his own mind. 

"You trapped me in my tapes, overthrew the Apex, and tried to kill me-" She shot back. "Tell me how that isn't betrayal!"

"... You were a Void when it happ-"

A smack upside the head cut him off. "Damn it, Simon! Look around you! Humans don't turn into Void's! We grow up! We're not little kids on a magic train anymore. This is real- I'm real!" 

"The Apex-" 

"We ran a cult! We got the rules wrong without realizing it, Simon- The Train isn't some big reward for kids who are sad. Its a prison where bad people go to rehabilitate and get released back into the real world when they're done!" 

Her hands were shaking by now. She pressed them hard into her lap to stop them from shaking. Her ex-friend was turned away from her now- head bowed again. 

"I know that..." His voice was weak- tired. "I just- didn't want things to change... I knew I was going to lose you once your number went down... I was going to be alone again-"

"You were never going to lose me because of my number or any null- we would have found a way to stay together... We always did..." Grace sighed heavily. "In the end, you lost me when you let your version of me cloud your judgment. The moment you raised your hand against me and not with me was the moment you lost me forever. That was your fault, Simon."

"I know...I'm sorry." Somehow- that almost sounded geuine.

"For?" Her eyes narrowed. She refused to cry anymore over him. 

"For everything-" 

"You won't even admit to things without me prompting... That isn't a geuine apology." Grace turned her own back to his, her own head bowing. 

"I'm sorry for the Apex, for Tuba and Hazel, Amelia, the Gohm- nearly killing you-" 

"... You had to be prompted." She sighed, and stood quickly. "But I guess that doesn't matter anymore. I was never going to get an apology from you- I didn't expect one."

"So there's nothing I can do to get you back?" He never lifted his head. "I said I was always with you once-"

Grace shook her head. "Not anymore. I only came to talk to you for my own peace of mind-"

"But why? Isn't peace letting shit go and moving on?" Simon lifted his head, but his face remained covered. 

"No. That's maturity- something you wouldn't know about." Grace stepped forward and pushed the blonde locks away.

She could see soft blue eyes full of tears- but they did nothing to sway her. She had spent years crying over those eyes. It was time for someone else to cry. Her friend was gone away from her. Grace had lost him a long time ago to a game of their own design. Gone were the days of blue eyes, magic trains, and the Apex. Queen Grace had outgrown that part of her life. 

Traded in her days of wearing mall tags and torturing denizens to taking care of a little one up until the bitter end. She had become a mother figure to Hazel and the rest of the Apex kids- a responsibility that carried over to her new life off the Train. She taught classes now. With good kids who adored her, not as a leader, but as their teacher. Gone were the days of acting out to get her parents' attention. They gave it to her on their own now, as she wasn't the only one who had grown during her time away. 

Last of all- the era of Simon was over. At least- the boy on the Train. The blue eyed cult leader who had tried to kill her for not conforming to his way of thinking. The one who would have wheeled a little girl without a moments thought- She had since traded him out as well. 

No- that wasn't a good way to put it. Simon had passed away before he could get any better or any worse. The Gohm had taken him from her. Grace hadn't lost him because she finally left him. True to her word, she was by his side until the bitter end, even when it wasn't good for either of them. The Train had granted her freedom from him, but it wasn't the train who sent her Hazel and Simon Laurent. They came along long after. 

They played their own games- with breadsticks and a wire bound book instead of a cult and harpoon packs. The two spoke their own language around each other, and yet they still let Grace in. Whether they were her friends from the Train in a past life or not was irrelevant now. She would still never get the chance to apologize to *her* Hazel or get an apology from *her* Simon- and she found she was okay with that now. Her life had still ended up better than it had been and she was grateful for that-

Grateful for them for having been in it and being apart of her journey to adulthood. Good, bad, or indifferent- they were part of her story forever now. A story she was determined to write the rest of, even without the version of them she had longed for once. 

"Goodbye..." 

Her friends were still waiting for her in the real world. There was still spaghetti to be had and new memories to be made. With a faint smile, she turned from her old friend and walked away, not as a miserable 18 year old, but as a happy and confident adult...

"Ms. Grace! Ms. Grace! Look how many sugar packets daddy stacked on your hand!" Hazel's voice and 7 sugar packets greeted her as she returned to the real world. "You were sleeping with your eyes open!"

Grace blushed softly and sat up slightly. She hadn't noticed just how long she had been in the void of her mind for- but based on how empty her friends plates were- it had been a hot second. A quick scan of the booth also revealed that Simon was no where to be seen. 

"Wheres your father?" The woman asked. Hazel answered with a shrug and blew some bubbles into her chocolate milk. "You don't know?"

"Bathroom, I think- or a phone call." Another shrug. "Daddy is mysterious sometimes when I don't hear what he said he was doing."

"... You're very whitty, Hazel." Grace smirked, knocking the sugar packets from her hand. "We could use some wit in my dance class."

"Way ahead of you, Ms. Grace." The girl announced proudly. "I'm gonna *make* daddy sign me up for dance classes because he already said he would!" 

The woman suppressed the urge to laugh. "Did he now?"

"He d-" Hazel stood up in her seat suddenly and began to wildly wave her arms about at what Grace guessed was Simon. 

Sure enough, the man slid back into the book seconds later. He looked troubled- maybe even a little miffed. Whatever the expression, he didn't look happy and Hazel didn't seem to pick up on it. 

"Daddy! Did you see me? I waved at you so you wouldn't get lost on your way back!" The girl chattered on, still blind to the looming change in atmosphere.

Simon shook his head, "I saw- bad news, monkey. I got called into work and grandma isn't home. You're going to have to come with me-" 

Hazel's whole face dropped so quickly it almost landed in her plate. "W-what!? But we're on a da-"

"Raincheck." Simon sighed as he glanced over to Grace. "Is that okay with you? I've got some time if you wanted to eat before I dropped you off-"

"Don't worry about it. I can get this to go." She offered him a warm smile and set her hand over top one of his. "Work is important-"

The sudden buzzing sound was alarming. The fact that it was coming from Hazel was- also concerning. The little girl looked fit to burst with how red her face was and how sparkly her eyes were. Grace was familiar with that look- and she was certain Simon was as well. The gears were turning rapidly in that child's mind- she was getting an idea!

"Hit the deck..." Simon muttered, "Hazel's ideas can be hazardous at times-"

They would practically *see* the light bulb above Hazel's head go on. "I can stay with Ms. Grace while you're at work!"

"W-what-!?" Both adults gasped at once. 

"That way I don't have to stay at work and the date doesn't have to be over yet!" 

Grace had to admit- the face Hazel came up with that on her own was almost impressive. What was more impressive was the way Simon managed to express the entire scope of human emotion with one facial expression. 

"Hazel- we don't know Ms. Grace that well and I'm not sure she'd want to babysit on her day off-" 

"Its not babysitting if I'm a big girl and its not babysitting." Hazel pointed out. "And we know her plenty-"

Simon looked to Grace. A silent plead of 'back me up' in his eyes.

She nodded quick. "Not very well. If you did then you'd know my last name already."

"I do! It'll be Laurent if things go well." She walked into that one so hard even birds rolled their eyes at her. 

Simon had his face buried in his palms. "Hazel- no..."

"Hazel yes!" The little girl snickered. "Come on, daddy. I'll even be on my best behavior!"

"You are on my last nerve, Hazel." Simon warned, peaking out between his fingers. 

"Am not. You love me too much." 

"... You got me there." The man huffed as he finally uncovered his face. "But the answer is still no-" 

The buzzing sound all but ceased instantly- Hazel's excited expression was exchanged for a very sad one. Her bottom lip was quivering and her eyes were brimming with fat tears. This was either genuine or a warning for a full-on child-tantrum in the middle of the resturant. Something *none* of the trio wanted. 

Grace pulled on Simon's arm and drew the man close to her so she could whisper. "Its really no trouble-"

Simon grabbed a menu and opened it- using it asna shield between them and Hazel's puppy dog eyes. "It's not that- and it's not that I don't trust you or anything- but this is my only child. I'm not sure how comfortable I feel-"

"I was just going to say I could look after her at the store while you work. That way you can keep an eye on both of us."

That actually wasn't what she was going to say, but if there was one thing she had learned in her life, it was how to read the room, adapt, and improvise. There was tension and pushing how responsible she was wasn't going to deescalate things. Playing it safe and helping Simon feel safe around her with Hazel was the way to go. 

"You really want to do that on your day off?" The blonde frowned. 

"I don't mind it- really." Grace replied. "I told the girls at work I didn't have time to come in today anyway. I'd hate to feel like I lied if I went home early."

The adorable, lopsided grin appeared on Simon's face. "You're certain?"

"All I ask is I get to change my clothes first." She smiled. "Babysitting in a store is easier in jeans." 

Simon frowned and glanced down at his phone for a moment. "We have an hour and a half if we left now." 

"Fine by me." A quick nod sealed the deal and the menu was lowered. "Well, Hazel. Looks like we're gonna keep hanging out together-"

The girl had gone from 0 to 100 in no time at all. She was suddenly standing on the table and waving her arms about. Wildly flagging down their waitress.

"CHECK PLEASE!" 

Chapter Text

By the time they arrived at the Monroe household, only 15 minutes had passed thanks to Simon's speeding. It seemed the trio would continue to make good time and all would go accordingly- if nothing else happened first. The doorway looked clear. If Grace could just make it inside without issue, change in under two minutes, and get out undetected then they'd be in the clear-

"Wow! Your house is huge!" Hazel exclaimed, face pressed to the car window. "Can we go inside!?"

Simon adjusted the rear-view mirror and glanced back at his excited child. "No, Hazel. Ms. Grace is just here to change her clothes and then we're going to work."

"Awww! But I never get to see the inside of people's houses!" Hazel whined, "Ms. Grace, can I see inside your house?"

Grace sent her an apologetic smile as she slipped from the car. As much as she would love to invite Hazel in and let her go nuts, Simon's word trumped her's here. If she let Hazel tag along, it could also lead to unwanted attention from a certain baby crazed mother of hers... Who hopefully didn't know they were back just yet. 

"Maybe next time, Hazel!" Grace called over her shoulder as she hurried up the stairs. 

She could hear the girl's upset protests behind her- but she could make up for that later. Right now she would have to do her best sneaking- 

"Grace Monroe." She heard her mother's voice before she saw her. That devil woman must have been waiting by the door the whole time they were gone! "I see you brought friends."

Her mother emerged from behind the front doors with a look of smug satisfaction on her perfectly powdered face. And why not? She now had confirmation that her daughter had gone out with the man from earlier *and* she know how an opening to 'make a good impression' on Grace's behalf. Likewise, a chance to see if these people were up to her mother's incredibly low standards so she'd know if she'd have to continue the search for a mate for her daughter. 

"Mother- they're not staying. I just need to change my clothes-" Her mother stepped in the way of the door. Her smirk had fallen into a frown. 

"Why change? What you have on is fine- Or am I to assume that things didn't go well?" Older eyes narrowed suspiciously.

"What- No! It went fine... Simon got called into work so I'm going to babysit Hazel-" .

Grace... Grace didn't like the way her mother's face lit up. Usually whenever her mother made a facial expression, it meant the light bulb had gone off and she was plotting. May it be a way to talk someone out or into a situation or worse. 

"Babysitting-" Worse. It was definitely worse this time. Grace didn't even need to hear the rest of the sentence. 

"Down, mom." She hissed before making an attempt to sidestep her mother. Despite the age gap, her mother was still just as nimble as her daughter and blocked her once again.

"Grace, you know I only want what is best for you-" Mrs. Monroe began. A firm hand was placed on the younger woman's shoulder. "But I also want grandchildren and am fine with you settling-"

Grace knocked her mother's hand away. She was prepared to physically pick the older woman up and move her if she had to. Many years ago, she would have loved this attention from her mother but right now on this day- it was too much.

"I'm just gonna-" 

A car door slammed shut. Grace tensed up- she didn't have to look to know that Hazel had made a daring escape and was running towards her. A second door slam and Simon calling after his child signaled to Grace that 'We're screwed. Strap in for an embarrassing conversation with mom...'. The kiddo was at Grace's side before she had the chance to muster the bit of restraint she was going to need for this one.

Hazel may have looked innocent- but Grace could see that the girl shared the same light bulb as her mother. "Ms. Grace! I have to go potty!"

"C-can it wait, Hazel?" You'd think with all the blushing Grace had done these last few days, she'd be used to the feeling by now. But it hurt every. Single. Time.

"Nope!" The girl exclaimed. She then turned to Mrs. Monroe and waved. "Hi! My name is Hazel Laurent. I'm 6 and a half! Can I use your bathroom, please?"

Grace's mother looked like she was in the presence of the Pope himself. There were stars in her eyes and her own light bulb just seemed to get brighter and brighter. It took everything she had to stop Grace from grabbing the child and making a break for the car... A car that would go nowhere because Simon was marching up the stairs already. 

He took Hazel's hand and turned her around to face him. "Hazel Samantha Laurent!"

"Uh oh... The middle name..." The child muttered. If Grace wasn't already feeling secondhand embarrassment, she certainly was now. 

Mostly for Hazel- because Simon did *not* look happy with her. "When is it appropriate to use your tuck and roll training?" 

"For kidnapping and other unsafe situations that require making your own exit." Hazel muttered. "And not for sneaking off without asking."

"Right. Can you explain why you ran off then?" His voice had an edge to it. Almost condescending- but not threatening in anyway. A firm but fatherly tone. 

"I had to go to the bathroom." Hazel huffed. "Don't we have a procedure for the bathroom that overrules the others?"

"Nice try, princess." Simon's lopsided smile returned. "... While I appreciate the correct use of the word 'overruled'- you still misbehaved."

"I know- I'm sorry, daddy." Hazel sighed, wrapping her chubby arms around Simon's neck. 

Theres enough ham there to make a sandwhich... 

Grace shook her head at the thought. She was about to comment when her mother pulled her over by her arm and whispered, "I like what I'm seeing already." 

A dark red practically exploded over Grace's face. Not even five minutes and her mother was already making plans- she wasn't surprised, but still embarrassed nonetheless.

"W-what? Mom, take this seriously-" She whispered back. 

"I am." Her mother stepped forward and out on her best 'we have company' smile before approaching the pair.

Simon glanced up at the woman and his face paled. "I'm so sorry about Hazel, Mrs.-"

"Monroe, but please. Call me Sonia." Her smile widened, her polite voice as fake as the brown dye in her hair. 

"Sonia- I'm still sorry about Hazel. She just wanted to see the inside of the house." The blonde shot Hazel a firm glance. "We're on a time crunch so I said no."

"It was worth a shot." Hazel sighed as she sent Grace an 'innocent' glance. One that clearly read 'I got him out of the car for you.' "Can I still go to the bathroom?"

It was Mrs. Monroe who answered, cutting off Simon's 'quickly'. "Of course you can, darling. I'll show you where it is." 

That was clearly code for 'flirt with him while we're gone!'. Her mother had Hazel whisked away before she could confirm this, but she knew in the deepest part of the local side of her brain what this was about. Simon seemed to be on that same wavelength. 

"I'm- I think we should go in with them-" He muttered.

"Good idea." 

"They might not come back out if they think we're having a private conversation."

Grace shook her head but stepped inside the house anyhow, "Thats what you're concerned with? I would've thought you'd be more worried about the rich stranger who might have just kidnapped your kid." 

"That is always my first concern-" Simon followed her inside, pausing only once to take in the massive front room. "But Hazel is a tough kid. I'm sure she could handle a 50-something year old lady."

"Don't let my mother hear that. She'd skin you alive." The young woman teased.

"For thinking Hazel could handle her?"

"For thinking she's 50."

This earned a nervous laugh from Simon. "I'm hoping thats a joke because she's got my kid."

"It is- don't worry." With that, Grace started up the stairs. "I'm going to go change real quick. Then we can grab Hazel and leave."

She sent a quick, kind glance down at Simon, but found that the blonde was looking elsewhere. He appeared rigid now as he glanced nervously about the space he occupied.

"You're just going to leave me here." It wasn't a question. 

"Just for a second. You're welcome to sit anywhere you'd like-" 

"I'll stand." 

Sharp, firm. He was using his dad voice again and Grace frowned. When she caught a glimpse of his face, she could see why. Grace was all too familiar with that look. 'Scared' or 'uncomfortable' were the first words that popped into her mind. She had seen that look before at the McDonald's Playland- and at the park- and the store.

"Are you seriously that freaked out?" She frowned, "I thought we-" 

"I'm fine-" A lie. 

They both knew the clock was running down, but Grace didn't make a move to go closer to her room and Simon wasn't encouraging her to move. Grace gave a pointed look- studying the man's face and the way he currently held himself. Paranoid maybe- definitely weary of something. Something Grace wasn't seeing in the wide open space with only one clear exit and no easy way to get to Hazel-

"You're agoraphobic-" 

It was only a hunch, but based on how Simon flinched, it was an accurate one. He folded his arms in front of him and glanced heavily at the floor. The bridge of his nose had a bit of red to it. Resembling an Apex zigzag, only instead of a proud mark, this red was a mark of shame. "That obvious?"

For whatever reason- Grace felt a bit of relief wash over her. While not everything, this did help fill in some of the gaps and in a way- helped to push this Simon further away from hers.

"No- but I guess it does explain a few things." Grace stepped back down the stairs. 

"Explain a few things? Like what?" The blush was gone from Simon's face and he looked up at her fully now.

"Like your procedures, and why you don't like to go out much-" This would have been a good point to stop- but she didn't. "It was a little alarming at first and at one point I thought you might have been a crazed cult leader or one of those strict army dad's but-" 

Simon burst out laughing suddenly, effectively cutting off her rambling. "A crazed cult leader!? Really?"

Now it was Grace's turn to blush. "Shut it. It was just a theory."

Simon's face dropped quickly, "I've been assumed to be many things- but that is a first... Though I seriously doubt theres a cult out there that does shit like procedures."

If only you knew...

"Well, I'm sorry to offend you-"

"Nah. I think its hilarious and can't wait to tell Hazel." That smile. That damn smile was back.

"Please don't. I don't need a kid *and* Hazel laughing at me." 

A chuckle passed between the pair, and their smiles grew. Any discomfort Simon had been experiencing seemed to have gone away from him again. In turn, Grace began to feel more relaxed as well. When the chuckling died down, Simon spoke. 

"Fine. As long as you don't mention what you know to Hazel." 

"She doesn't know?" Grace frowned. 

"She knows, but she doesn't know that you know." A shrug. 

God, he sounds like Hazel... Like father like daughter. "Fair enough."

"I appreciate it-" 

Before Grace could think of a whitty reply, a ball of yellow was flung at Simon. Based on past experience, she'd make an educated guess and say that was Hazel. 

"Daddy, can I stay with Mama Monroe? Please please please!?" Definitely Hazel.

"What-?" Simon sat up and picked up the squirming child- who now sported a full face of make-up and a cookie in each hand.

"Grace's mommy gave me cookies and a make over after I peed!" Hazel announced proudly. "Can I stay with her while you're at work?"

"I-I thought you wanted to come to work with me-" Simon replied as he made an attempt to wipe some of the make-up away. 

"Yeah, but you have to go to work now and Ms. Grace still isn't dressed for the occasion!" 

Simon's skin went from pale to bone white. Grace didn't even have to look at the time to know Hazel was right. Based on that smug little smirk the child was trying to hide, she was 100% certain in that assumption.

"I-I can still watch you in my dress." Grace offered, "It's no problem-"

Hazel was shoved into her arms suddenly.  Grace scrambled to catch and hold her properly. Cookie crumbs from Hazel's face now littered her dress, but she wasn't about to focus on that. 

"I'm going to be really late if I don't leave now- I'm not 100% okay with this but I'll get in less trouble if its just me-" Simon muttered, taking a second to kiss Hazel's forehead. "Be good for Ms. Grace and don't get into a room you don't know how to get out of, okay?"

"Okay daddy! Have fun at work!" Hazel giggled.

Simon gave an unsure nod, turned quickly, and rushed out the door- leaving the three girls in the doorway. Grace didn't even have to turn around to see the absolute joy plastered on her mother's face.

"This will be good practice for you." Her mother whispered. "Now, do whatever you have to to win over this child."

I'm pretty sure I already did... I think its *me* Hazel is trying to win over.

Chapter Text

It was a miracle Hazel hadn't popped yet.

The first half hour of being away from her father had been filled with nothing but cookies. Mrs. Monroe offered her just about every kind of confection in existence (or at least in their house) until work finally called her away. The older woman had left Hazel with a glass of milk and reassurance that she would be back soon. Grace prayed that she wouldn't- she didn't need to return Simon's kid either too full to move or too sugared up to stop. 

"This is the best." Hazel sighed, happily placing her milk onto her pudgy tummy. "Your mommy has the BEST cookies ever!"

"Mhm... I'm surprised you had room, Hazel." Grace mused, taking a long slow sip of her coffee. Something bitter to balance out all the sweet she had just witnessed. 

"This is nothing. Daddy and I have cookie eating contests all the time." The girl squeaked. She took a sip of her milk and smacked her lips contently. "Ah. The good stuff."

"Cookie eating contests? That sounds awful." 

And it truly did. During Grace's time as a competitive dancer, her mom had kept her loaded on sugar. So much so that after-contest-crashes left her absolutely hungover for days. The memory haunted her long into her adulthood. She shook her head at the thought and sipped more coffee. 

"It is not! We have icecream too." Hazel cooed.

"Ew. Too much sugar." Grace smirked. 

Hazel pouted. "Daddy says you said you take your dance class for icecream."

"I do- but that doesn't mean I ever got any." The woman glanced wistfully out the window. "I never did. So I just don't want my girls to go without."

"Did you not get any because you didn't like sugar?" 

"No- When I was younger I didn't know a lot of girls in my dance class so they never invited me out fo-"

A chill ran down her spine. This conversation- the person she was with- the deja vu nearly knocked her on her side. Her eyes took a moment to refocus, and when they did, she found Hazel staring at her curiously. 

"Did you fall asleep with your eyes open?" Hazel asked.

"N-no. Just memories-" She didn't bother to force a smile. "I told this story to a friend a long time ago-"

"Your friend who died?" 

Behind her eyes, the memory of dance talk with her Hazel vanished quickly. She didn't see her sweet friend when she blinked. She saw a ghost. One she had thought she ended things with just an hour earlier- 

"I liked what we had..."

All the air had been sucked out of Grace's lungs. Her chest ached, like she had been slammed into a brick wall at full force. The chill that had run down her spine was now sprinting a marathon around her entire person. It felt like she was choking as she forced her words out.

"N-No! No-... The little girl we used to travel with-!" Spots dotted her vision, but she found she couldn't draw breath just yet. It was easy to talk to ghosts on your own, but with someone else-?

"The one also named Hazel?" Hazel asked, sitting up quickly. "Were those their real names or did you make that up to scare us?"

Grace took a moment to breathe. She consulted her old notes- studying her new friend's face until soon she no longer resembled her Hazel. Had Hazel's Simon been there, she would have done the same to him. It brought her some comfort. Hazel's curious expression had switched to a more serious one. With another breath, Grace finally responded. 

"T-those were their real names... Simon Laurent and Hazel Last-Name-Unknown." A weak smile crossed her features.

"Did they look like us too?" Hazel cocked her head to one side.

"I don't even remember- I think so-"

"You don't have any pictures of them?"

"Oh God no... I wish I did-"

Hazel sat up, her glass of milk clattering to the ground as she did. Grace made a mental note to clean that up later. At that moment, Hazel's eyes were filled with sparkles, and Grace with curiosity and concern. The child began digging around in the many pockets of the suit jacket she still wore- in search of something.

"Oh! I have a picture!" 

There was that wall again. Hitting Grace so hard she was sure she had shattered her ribs. The room felt unbearably cold now- silent prayers that Hazel never found what she was looking for entered her mind. She felt sick- and scared- dreading what the little girl was going to shown her. That dread turned to pure terror when Hazel produced a Polaroid from one of her pockets. She handed it wrong-ways to Grace- and the woman took it with shaking hands. 

Don't look- Don't look- Don't look-

Despite the warning sirens in her head, Grace found herself unconsciously turning the photo around- as slow as she could manage without looking suspicious. Her stomach dropped through her shoes- her vision went all but white as her brain attempted to spare her from what she was about to see-

.

.

.

The first thing she registered was a baby. All pudgy, dark, and wrinkled. No more than a month or two old from the looks of it. Twin pink mittens covered her hands. A small pacifer hung loosely between the infant's even smaller lips. A purple gorilla smiled goofily across a soft lilac onesie. Little pink socks hid tiny toes from view. A single tuft of tawny blonde hair hung loosely across the baby's forehead.

The baby's eyes were shut tight, completely calm and at peace as she snuggled in a pair of strong arms. Grace willed herself to glance further up the photo. 

The next thing she noticed was a pair of tired grey eyes. She recognized them instantly as this world's Simon. The man had his hair back in a loose bun, with his signature lopsided smile permanently frozen on his face. He couldn't have been any older than her Simon had been when he passed.

Below the pair, a brief description.

Hazel Laurent.  2 Months.

She's 6 and a half now- right? He'd be at least 19-... That sounds right. 

"He looks so young..." Grace noted, tracing a thumb over the edge of the old photo. 

"We were little back then!" Hazel giggled, "Daddy was still a teenager, I think-"

"Y-yeah?" The woman studied the photo closely. 

She had never seen her Hazel as a baby- or her Simon as- well, as an adult. The photo felt non-existent between her fingertips. As though it were mearly an illusion conjured up by some higher power to make her believe in something that wasn't real... It wasn't until a particular sharp edge of the Polaroid scratched her finger did she feel it's weight finally.

Every little difference seemed illuminated in the photo. Simon's face was unrecognizable to her. It didn't conjure up any memories as she had expected. Hazel's baby face did nothing to her. Grace had never seen those faces before in her life. She was sure of it-

"You were a cute baby." She hummed, gently handing the photo back to Hazel. "Do you have any more pictures?" 

"No- But I think grandma does!" The photo was deposited safely into her pocket. "All of them are of me and daddy!"

"All of them? You don't have any pictures with your mommy?" Grace frowned deeply. 

Hazel shook her head quickly and then hid her face behind her hands. "Mommy went away when I was little-"

Grace swallowed a thick lump in her throat. "But doesn't daddy have any pictures of her?"

'Ugh- I don't know!' Her Hazel had cried in frustration and ducked behind Tuba's legs when Grace pushed her for information on her parents. 

The little girl had cried so hard and looked so miserable that it was a miracle she didn't turn turtle right there and then- Half of Grace had expected a similar reaction from this Hazel. To cry and suddenly transform into a turtle denizen and set into motion the complete undoing of the lies Grace had been using to convince herself than any of this made sense-

"Thats rude." She hadn't been expecting that. Hazel had her nose wrinkled up in an annoyed gesture, arms folded over her chest. "Procedure 275. No thank you."

"I-I'm sorry?" Grace rose a slender eyebrow. 

"I don't have to tell you about mommy." Hazel huffed, "And daddy doesn't have to keep pictures of her if it makes him sad!"

The dark haired woman sat back in shock. Her mouth hung open like a gaping fish. She had expected a lot of things from today- this entire interaction was not one of them. Hazel sounded less like her little friend from the train and more like her father. For once, Grace felt as though she were looking at a tiny Simon. 

"It- It doesn't bother you at all?" Open mouth, insert foot, Grace!

"No- I've got daddy and that's fine by me." The girl shrugged, "Daddy was really sad one time, but now he's happy. I'd take a glad one over a sad one over all the mommies in the world!"

Grace's face felt unbelievably hot, having just been scolded by a child for overreaching. Her stomach felt sick for an entirely different reason now. She had upset her tiny friend over nothing-

"I'm sorry-" She took a breath, "I was just curious-" 

"Curiosity killed the cat." Hazel pouted, "But not our cat- Our cat is fine."

Grace didn't bother to notice that connection. She was feeling overwhelmed as is. "Is your cat named Samantha-?"

"No. His name is Tuba. On account of he sounds like a Tuba and I once got my head stuck in one!" 

By then, Grace's heart had slowed back to a regular heartbeat. Her spirits were low, but that felt normal by now. Her coffee sat long forgotten on the sidetable. She no longer needed it in order to feel wired. Hazel did a good job of that herself. 

"Your got your head stuck in a Tuba...?" 

"Yeah-huh! At the music store!" All at once, Hazel's disproving look had vanished and she was back to her energetic self.

The cookies must be setting in...

"Did daddy have to get it off?" Grace asked, settling herself back against the couch. Wishing it would swallow her whole-

"He did. It was really scary." 

The little girl scooted across the couch to Grace, laying her head against the older woman's chest. She hummed in time to Grace's heartbeat and shut her eyes to hear it better. 

"Your heart sounds like daddy's." Hazel noted, "Its nice."

"You think so?" Grace mused, shutting her own eyes. 

"Yeah... It sounds healthy- My new mommy needs a good heart." 

Grace didn't bother to press. Whether or not Hazel meant to be healthy or kindly was something that would have to come out in the laundry later. "I thought you said you didn't want a new mommy?"

"I never said that." Hazel huffed, "I said I wanted daddy to be happy... He can still be happy if we find the right mommy."

Tears pricked the corners of Grace's eyes, but she wiped them away before Hazel could see them. "Do you think its me?" 

"I dunno. Maybe in a few years." Blonde pigtails burrowed closer into Grace's chest. The elastic bands scraped her skin something awful, but she endured the pain for Hazel's sake. "At least thats what daddy says."

"About me?" Grace peaked at Hazel through a half-lidded eye.

"No. Just about mommies in general." Hazel muttered, pressing her nose into Grace's neck. "He's trying his best."

A faint smile pulled at the corners of Grace's lips. "He sure is." 

An almost playfully feeling overtook her heart, and she wrapped a strong arm around Hazel. The little one smiled against Grace's skin and kicked her legs against the woman's side. Like the hairties, it hurt, but the woman grinned and bared with it. So long as her buddy was smiling again. 

"So- what does your daddy like in a mommy?" She asked, sitting up slightly with Hazel still in her hold. 

"She's gotta be pretty, and love us bunches!" Hazel said, her eyebrows narrowing suddenly, "If she even *tries* to drive a wedge between us, she's gone."

"A wedge? I don't think theres any force on this Earth that could pry you two apart." Grace smirked, lifting Hazel up under her armpits. "You two are like two peas in a pod."

"Like two straws in a milkshake!" Hazel laughed- but once again dropped her happy expression for a serious one. "Oh wait- you don't like icecream..."

Grace shook her head. "That's okay- We could say you two are like- Celery and peanut butter!"

"Ewwww! No!" That beautiful smile returned full force.

"Its the perfect analogy. Your new mommy could be the raisins on top!" 

Hazel screeched and laughed harder. "No! No raisin-mommy! That sounds gross!"

Grace pulled Hazel close and blew raspberries against the girl's cheek. Hazel shrieked louder and beat her little toes against Grace's legs between deep tummy laughs. Small hands wormed their way between the pair and shoved playfully at the woman's face.

"Then just peanut butter and more celery!" Grace snickered, pushing passed those hands to place little kisses onto Hazel's chubby cheeks. 

"No! Peanut butter and jelly!" The little girl launched her own raspberry attack on Grace's cheek- effectively spitting on Grace accidentally in the process. 

Grace snorted at the incredibly gross feeling and wiped her face on her sleeve. All the while, she ran tickles down Hazel's sides. "Peanut butter and pickles!" 

Hazel stopped for a moment, grabbed Grace's hands, and set them on Grace's lap. "No pickles, Ms. Grace. We're allergic." 

"Oh... RAISINS IT IS!" 

Hazel squealed with laughter again, successfully leaping from Grace's arms and dashing to the other side of the couch. Any discomfort between the pair was officially gone and Grace's only goal and catching that little tot and giving her more hugs. 

"Nope! We're a milkshake and you don't get to be my new mommy!" The girl snickered, jumping from the couch before Grace could catch her.

"I'd be a great mommy." Grace teased, lunging forward to make a playful grab at Hazel. "I think I meet all the requirements-"

"Do not!" Hazel dodged another grab for her. "Mommies gotta have cute babies first!"

At long last, Grace managed to loop an arm around Hazel and pulled the girl back to her and squeezed her into a tight hug. The pair took to giggling until their sides were sore and they had to stop for air. Hazel then slipped from Grace's arms and laid down on the couch tiredly yet happy. Grace followed in suit and pulled the girl up next to her. 

"Well, I don't have cute babies yet- but I was one... Just like you." She dotted that sentence with a quick boop to Hazel's nose. 

"You were?" A nod answered Hazel. "Can I see?" 

"I don't see why not. You showed me your baby picture." Grace smiled, and sat up with Hazel clinging to her like a baby koala. 

"I need to make sure before I let you marry my daddy." Hazel went on. "This is research." 

"I'm sure it is." The pair started toward the stairs that would lead them to Grace's bedroom. 

There was an old photo on her desk of when she was a little girl, maybe just a little older than Hazel. She didn't look at all happy in it, but she looked adorable in her dance garb. Hopefully, adorable enough to put her back in the running for Hazel's new mom- even if she didn't end up winning the position.

And if Hazel didn't approve, Grace knew where the cookies were. 

Chapter Text

It was bitterly cold when Simon finally got off of work. It got even colder on the car ride to Grace's, as he kept the heat off. The needle of the car's gas gauge hovered menacingly  above the dreaded E. As if to add insult, heavy rain had begun falling hard against his windshield as he drew closer to the Monroe household. 

8:30pm

"Hopefully Hazel is asleep already..." The man muttered, pulling into the closets spot and tossing the car into park.

The last thing he needed was a tired, crabby child to deal with this late. He was already certain he would have a tired, crabby Grace to handle. Part of him had enough sense to maybe offer the woman compensation for her services- after all, he did ditch his child with her with no real indication on when he would be back for her- 

Way to be father of the year, asshole...

A pang of guilt ran through him, and he hurried out of the car and into the cold. An overwhelming feeling of grief and sadness also overtook him and he quickened his pace. It wasn't the first time he had been away from Hazel this long- but it hit differently this time. He missed the little blonde hedgehog-

Knock, knock, knock!

The polished wood of the door was like a knife against Simon's frozen knuckles. The man quickly tucked his sore fingers into his pants pocket and held his shoulders closer to his body. The action did little to warm him, but it was something to do while he waited for someone to answer the door. 

If anyone is home... Wouldn't that be just my luck? First time with a babysitter and my kid winds up kidnapped-

The intrusive thought was squashed quickly. If therapy had taught him one thing, it was that letting such thoughts take control would only end miserably. There was no need to work himself up- yet. Worst case scenario was Hazel had been kidnapped, best case is that she had fun and just asleep, and most likely was that she was at least perfectly safe with the odd woman who often said they reminded her of her "dead" friends-

KNOCK, KNOCK, KNOC-

The door flew open and Simon had to quickly stop his fist from flying into the face of the timid maid who answered. The woman was older, with a pair of thick glasses on her tiny face. She gave off kindly grandmother vibes- or a scary old witch with a gingerbread house. It was hard to tell in the poor lighting of the house. The older woman gave the blonde a once over and a curious expression overtook her.

"Can I help you?" She asked, glasses dipping down the bridge of her own.

"O-oh, um- I'm Simon Laurent. Grace was babysitting for me and-"

The woman's face lit up instantly, "Oh! That little girl. I was wondering where she had come from..." The woman wrapped a firm hand around his arm and tugged him inside. 

The warmth of the dimly lit front room was a welcome change, and Simon took a moment to revel in it. The maid didn't pay that any mind and continued to all but drag him towards a large staircase. In typical Simon-Fashion, that snapped him back to reality and the hand still tucked in his pocket found and wrapped around his keys. 

Procedure #406 and 407: Never follow a possible predator to a secondary location (at least not without a weapon) and never underestimate the elderly. 

"My name is Marley, by the by." The woman, now Marley, said. "I was Ms. Grace's nanny when she was a child. Now I simply work around the house-"

"Thats- nice?" Simon frowned, "I just came to pick up my daughter-"

They had stopped before a wide oak door. A rather avant-garde (was that the word?) Looking tree was carved into the wood and it was stained a deep shape of burgundy. While most likely very elegant during the daytime hours, right now it looked more like the doorway to Hell- or at least to some creepy cult house. Simon took a step back and breathed through his nose. 

"They're in the drawing room." Marley's voice had dropped to a whisper, and she knocked on the door gently.

"Its open." Grace's voice sent a shiver down Simon's spine. A perfectly familiar noise in an unfamiliar house. 

The door was then gently pryed open and a warm light spilled out from the room. The very first thing Simon noted was his sweet little girl, all curled up in a fluffy blanket on a fancy velvet couch. Her face looked heavy with sleep, and yet she still had the brightest smile. Beside her, Grace sat, her lap serving as Hazel's pillow and her feet kicked up on a matching ottoman. Like his daughter, Grace looked very tired, but happy. The younger woman lifted her head long enough to shoot Simon a kind smile. 

"Looks like you two had fun." Simon muttered, stepping passed Marley and entering the room. 

The door shut quietly behind him- loud enough to startle him a moment but quiet enough that it didn't wake Hazel. The grip on his keys tightened as he stepped further into the room- eventually ending up a foot away from Grace. His eyes never left Hazel's sleeping form. The center of his whole world and the reason he ever did anything worthwhile. She looked too precious to be disturbed-

"Isn't she beautiful?" Grace's voice caught his attention and drew it to her. 

"She sure is..." Simon smiled, "I don't want to move her..."

"I don't either- but I have to pee." Grace admitted, "Could you help me sneak out?"

Simon bit back a laugh and nodded his head. "You could have started with that..."

He stepped closer and carefully wedged a hand between Hazel's head and Grace's thigh. The little one stirred for a moment, but quickly adjusted to her new pillow. There was just enough space now for Grace to slip away without issue. Once the woman was free, Simon gently lowered his sleepy child's head onto the couch. Grace nudged his shoulder in what he assumed was a quiet show of thanks. 

A little too quiet for his tastes.

"Did she behave?" Simon whispered. 

Grace nodded her head and stepped closer to the door. "Yeah- for the most bit."

Simon nodded and followed her lead. "Sounds about right- sorry work ran so late."

Grace wrinkled her nose and smiled apologetically. Another gentle knock landed against Simon's shoulder- this time in an almost playful matter. 

"Don't mention it. I'm surprised you didn't take *longer* if I'm being honest..." Grace huffed, gesturing to a nearby window. "That storm sounds like shit outside."

The man frowned deeply as thunder rolled overhead, echoing off of the walls... Luckily, storms never seemed to bother Hazel all that much. "Trust me, it is. I was just out in it-"

The woman matched his frown. "Oh geez- I'd hate to have you driving in that."

"Its fine... I've got to get Hazel home-" A slender hand caught his wrist suddenly. 

Grace's expression had gone from sleepy to near unreadable- but not in a threatening way. In fact, Simon felt very few qualms against the grip on his wrist or how it prevented him from getting to his child. Few- but not zero. 

"You can wait a bit for the rain to clear up... Come on. Lets go make coffee or something." Grace suggested, already tugging him to the exit. "We can talk a little too."

Simon's heart skipped a little. "I thought you had to pe-"

"I lied."

The coffee wasn't the worst Simon had ever had... And he'd say the same about the company. Grace didn't talk much while making the coffee, but the air she gave off was comfortable. When she sat, however, Simon could sense an edge to her. 

"Penny for your thoughts?" He asked, tone even as he inspected the mug before him.

"They're not for sale." Grace teased. She folded her legs under her person and leaned her head onto her hands. "Yours?"

"You can't afford them." He smirked. 

Grace shook her head and bowed quickly, but Simon still managed to catch a glimpse of her smile as she did. It was- cute? If he had to pick a word to describe the smile. Not at all like his Hazel's- but in its own way.

Grace finally looked back up. "So how was work?" 

"Boring... How was babysitting?" Simon asked.

"Uneventful- but it was fun." Grace smiled. "We talked a lot."

"About what?" This could either be a very embarrassing or very fascinating conversation- it really could go either way whenever Hazel was involved. 

"You- mostly." It truly was a toss-up now.

"Hopefully good things-" Simon's blood pressure was steadily rising- he could feel it. 

When Grace dropped her gaze down to her mug, that pressure skyrocketed. 

"Can I ask something super personal?" No beating around the bush with this one, eh? 

"No, but you might as well." Simon frowned, "Is this about something Hazel said?" 

"Sorta-" Grace took a quick sip of her coffee, "We were talking today. She said you don't have any pictures of-"

"Her mother?" Simon frowned and took his own sip, "I don't... And it's really none of your business." 

"I *really* don't want to get into it with you-" there was a 'but' come to this- "But-"

There it was. Simon waved a hand before Grace could get anything more out. "Sorry. You've got to be a level four friend before you unlock that tragic backstory..."

"And what level am I at right now?" 

"Eh. About a 0.4- We're merely acquaintances." Simon shrugged, "What else did you guys talk about?" 

"What Hazel wants in a new mommy."

Simon nearly choked on his own air. ".. Son of a bitch- of course you did..." 

Grace wrinkled her nose. "Simon, Hazel and my mother are wanting us to end up together- I at least want to know a little more about whose position I'd be filling if we did."

Another hand wave- only this time it was so Simon could try to hold in a snicker. "Grace, get that idea out of your head. Right now." 

"Why?" She seemed genuinely curious, but still playful.

"You're not my type." Not a complete lie but not the full truth either. "And I'm not currently looking for a new mom for Hazel-"

"Not your type, eh?" Grace shook her head, "Fair enough... Can't say you're mine either."

Simon buried a snicker behind his palm. "What? I'm a catch. Hazel says so-"

"Hazel also said your type was someone kind and pretty who wouldn't drive a wedge between you two." Grace sat back further in her chair, a mischievous glint in her eyes, "So either shes lying or I somehow don't meet that criteria."

Simon stopped and glanced down at the floor. He either needed something whitty to say or a very factual comeback to that. Grace was pretty, and kindly- and he didn't have any reason to believe she would try to separate him from Hazel-

"Wait just a damn minute. Don't I get to make the criteria for *my* potential girlfriend?" Had he meant to say that outloud? No. Did he? Yes.

Did Grace smirk harder when he did? Also yes. "Okay then. What would *you* want to see in a potential partner?"

"My wife. Next question-" A sugar packet was flicked at his head, and he narrowly dodged it. "Hey- you asked."

"I'm serious." Grace laughed softly, "Here- I'm asking as a friend who is curious. Nothing more, nothing less."

"As a friend, eh?" Simon straightened his back, "Fine- but none of this gets back to Hazel, alright?"

"It won't." 

Simon nodded, took another sip for courage, and leaned back in his chair. "I don't want to rush into things with just anyone and have Hazel think I chose someone over her-"

Grace frowned and looked off. It seemed as though she were looking at something or someone very far away from them."I hear that..."

He didn't have to wonder what she meant by that. That all could be pieced together from what she had told him at the park.

Simon sighed, and set a comforting hand over one of Grace's. "Can I ask you something personal too? Since we're being honest?" 

A nod.

"Your friend- the one who passed- what was he like?" Not that he cared to know.

"My Simon-?" Grace's frown turned from a concerned one to a saddened one. "He was my everything once- we were friends for a really long time and when our Hazel came around, I thought we'd have this nice little fam-"

Pump the breaks. Daddy Laurent was scared again. 

"I'm going to stop you for a second and ask that you PLEASE tell me that this isn't a metaphor about you wanting to get with me and take my daughter for your own-" 

"It's starting to seem that way- but no." Grace sighed, "My Simon was *nothing* like you. He was my best friend but he was also manipulative, impulsive, narcissistic, childish-... Oh, and he hated our Hazel."

Simon wrinkled his nose, "He sounds like a jackass... I mean, sorry for your loss and all- but I'd shoot myself if I ever hated my Hazel."

"He sorta had a reason-"

"There's no reason to hate an innocent kid." The man frowned deeply. 

"I know that, but my Simon didn't see it that way..." 

A tense silence followed, and neither seemed to know how to proceed with things. On one hand, Simon was already disturbed. The thunder growling overhead only added to the unsettling atmosphere now hanging around them. Yet on the other hand- he was curious. His mind had since begun to paint a portrait of the deceased man who supposedly shared his face... As hypocritical as that was- he wanted to know more. And unlike himself, Grace seemed willing to share-

"... Explain?" 

"We... Used to have this- concept?" Grace sighed, "It was stupid, but we used to call- 'people' we didn't like 'nulls'-"

Nulls... Now, where had he heard that term before? Better yet- what did it mean?

"Nulls...?" 

"Not even zero- I read it in a book once." The woman shrugged. "It meant- like a person who didn't mean anything to anyone."

"... And that meant children to the both of you?" The blonde frowned, moving to rise from his chair so he could grab Hazel and leave-

"No! Not children- just... People." Grace stopped to rub her eyes. "Its really hard to explain-"

It was just as hard to understand. "Like a hate group?" 

Simon raised an eyebrow quizzically. Grace had always seemed to sweet to both him and Hazel by extension- never would he see her as the type to hate any other living person. 

"Sort of-... It was more of a cult-" She continued to rub her eyes. "But not-? There was a lot we didn't understand back then. We were kids when we did this-"

He winced. "Why are you telling me all of this? Becaue I'm honestly a little freaked out now-" 

"I honestly don't know-... It's been a while since I talked about him." A weak smile was sent Simon's way. "All of the good bits got filtered out, I guess..."

"I'll say- So... You made a cult with your ex when you were kids?" He stopped to rub his face, "What did your parents think of all of this...?"

"Well- This is where the story gets weird." Mug set aside, Grace gestured for Simon to sit down and get comfortable- and against his better judgment, he sat down. 

"Try me."

Grace took both of his still chilled hands in her warm ones and held them firmly. "Before I do, you have to open your mind *wide*, okay? Because I swear I'm not crazy."

Oh God... That's exactly what a crazy person would say- FIND THE NEAREST EXIT, SIMON!

"Alright..."

Grace drew in a deep breath and squeezed Simon's hands briefly. "When I was 10, I ran away from my parents and ended up being kidnapped by some crazy magical murder train from an alternate dimension. 'Denizens' or 'Nulls' were creatures that lived on the train and my Simon and I hated them because we thought the train was ours- so we accidentally made a cult with the other kidnapped kids to get rid of them but then we met our Hazel- who was a denzin this crazy false conductor made by accident- but we didn't know that because she looked like a regular kid and I found out first... I tried to keep it a secret but my Simon found out and got mad, overthrew me, then tried to kill me and this giant cockroach dog thing burned him alive-"

She let go of his hands and cupped his face. "I know it sounds crazy, but sometimes when you say and do things it just reminds me of him and I'm terrified this is all some weird dream and I'm still on the train and- Why are you crying...?"

Truth be told- he hadn't realized he had started crying. He did, however, feel a sharp pain in his chest. Not from a racing heartbeat, but rather from trying to hold in a laugh. It all became too much at the mention of a cockroach dog- so he laughed. A laugh that rolled with the thunder and was so deep it hurt his stomach. He laughed until he was crying for real. 

"A-a cockroach dog and a murder train!?" He felt lightheaded, but the laughter just wouldn't stop. "Thats the craziest thing I've ever heard-"

"You mean none of that rings any bells?" Grace sounded confused. Simon reached over and pinched her, hard. "Ow- what was that for!?"

"You said you were scared this was a dream, right? Heres proof its not. You're real, I'm real-" Simon stopped to snicker, "But a 'murder train' is not."

"... So you must think I'm absolutely batshit, right?" Grace's eyebrows knitted together, "Not the reaction I was expecting from you..."

Simon took a moment to wipe the remaining tears from his eyes, "No... Actually. I don't think it's crazy..."

"Y-you don't?" The surprise on the woman's face was almost adorable.

"Not at all..." He let his loose hair tumble over his eyes as he turned his head towards the window. The storm was still raging outside of it. "A wise woman once said 'The mind plays tricks on you when you're sad'... Believe me- I understand that better than anyone."

Said wise woman smiled faintly, "O-Oh really...?"

Simon took one of her hands and weighed it in his own. On one hand, she could have just been crazy, but on the other hand (the one in his) she sounded like she spoke from experience. She always did. It was leading him to believe that maybe, just maybe she came from a similar place as himself.

"I mentioned having a dark year I don't remember?" He sighed, "I don't have *any* pictures from that time... I got rid of them all. Any proof we even existed during that time is notes from doctor's visits. Hell, the first thing I really remember is Hazel being a year old and just being here-"

"Thats not completely true." A rustling sound- and Grace placed something on the table between them. 

Simon looked down and found a photograph. Old and worn, but still clearly depicting a worn out father and his very young child. The man didn't need to study it closely to know who it was a picture of.

"That crazy old woman kept one..." He muttered, studying the image with warm eyes. 

"Hazel said your mother kept a lot of them... But none of her mom." Grace said softly, "I think its safe to say you got rid of them all..." 

The picture was swiped up and safely tucked away into Simon's pocket. "Yeah-"

Simon paused to turn and look back up into Grace's eyes. "This doesn't leave the table- but-... I think my brain just filtered everything else out about Hazel's mother like yours did with your Simon... I only remember so much about her and without pictures- that's it... I wish I could tell you and Hazel more-"

"Don't worry about it." Grace sighed, "Its okay."

"Evidently its not... I know Hazel wants a new mom- but it doesn't feel right finding a 'replacement' if I don't remember all that went into her-" 

"But that sounds like normal grief-" Grace cut in suddenly. "Thats normal-"

"Picturing a void in place of actual events sounds just as crazy as a murder train." Simon shrugged, "I mean- not really, but I like saying 'murder train'."

It was Grace's turn to laugh now- but her face suddenly turned sullen. "Can I ask you something else personal?"

"You just told me the most ridiculous story I think I've ever heard- which is saying a lot considering I'm currently writing a fantasy novel with my kid... Go right ahead... All bets are off now."

"Do you... Do you still remember being in love with Hazel's mom?" 

Simon was taken aback. A crack of thunder trailed the end of Grace's question like a threat. If he had been counting the seconds, he would have known that such a threat was far away- he didn't however. 

Instead, he began to search his thoughts for that year. Seeing the picture of his daughter so small had done little to jog his memory of that time. Little- but not nothing. He knew he had felt an overwhelming amount of love during that time- and not just for Hazel. It certainly didn't feel like a bad thing- just distant now. 

"Yes... You?" The storm sounded further away now. It went all but silent when Grace set her hands on top of his own again.

"Absolutely. For whatever reason, I do." She muttered. "Thanks for hearing me out, Simon. That really means a lot."

"Any time... It's kinda nice getting to talk trauma with someone who isn't a therapist." He sighed, shaking his head. 

"Yeah... So what now?" 

"Well, it sounds like the rain stopped- but I wouldn't mind making another cup of coffee and talking about *normal* shit." Simon admitted, "This goes without saying, but I don't get to talk to a lot of adults."

"Me either- this is nice." Grace rose from her chair. "I'll get started on that coffee." 

"You do that-" Simon glanced back outside- briefly catching a glimpse of his face in the windows reflection. 

Blonde hair, pale eyes, a tired expression- all of it looked familiar- until the lighting flashed behind his reflection. His face was bathed in an ominous glow- 

"Simon?" Grace called to him from the other side of the kitchen, "You got quiet on me."

"Just thinking-" He rose from his chair quickly and crossed the room to join Grace at the coffeemaker. "Here, let me help you with that-"

"What were you thinking of?" Her voice was riddled with concern. 

"I have a really weird face." Not a lie, "And looking out windows after hearing a crazy story is a bad idea."

"You spooked yourself."

Simon blushed and continued to fiddle with a coffee filter, avoiding what was a certainly an amused gaze from Grace. "Yeah..."

"Happens to the best of us." She shrugged, heading to the sink to get water for their coffee. "We can sit somewhere else if you want. My room, maybe."

"You know, the more you talk, the more I'm starting to believe my theory that the 'your Simon' story is just a metaphor for wanting to get into my pants." He teased, hoping to avoid any more strange conversations tonight. 

"If I really wanted to do that, I wouldn't have gone this route to seduce you." She was teasing, but Simon still felt his blush darken.

"What route would you have gone?" He asked, taking his time in placing the filter to avoid having to turn around and look at Grace.

"Sorry, you have to be at least a level 4 friend to be trusted with that information-"

Simon snorted, "What the heck- I trusted you with my tragic backstory! But level am I at now?"

"About a 0.4. We're merely acquaintances, after all-" 

Simon turned around before he could think, grabbed Grace, and tossed her over his shoulder. "Thats it. You're going out in the rain for being a smartass!" 

Grace snorted and made a feeble attempt to struggle against his hold. "That's not fair, Simon! You got to say it-"

"Yes, because its the type of person I am." He smirked and began to race for the front door, "Which according to you, is *nothing* like your Simon!" 

His and Grace's laughter fell into sync with one another. It felt nice to get to laugh with someone again- the ghost in the window and the one in his past were all but forgotten by the time they reached the front stoop. The last of the storm drizzled down around them- enough to dampen their hair and their clothes but not their spirits.

Chapter Text

'Sunday morning, rain is falling...

St eal some covers, share some skin...'

Simon hummed along softly to the music on playing from his laptop. A gentle rain beat softly against the kitchen window as he quietly moved about. It was 5am and Hazel was finally back in her own bed. He planned to let her sleep in as long as she could after her night with Grace the day before. There was another big day ahead of them. His mother would be over soon. 

'Not too soon, I hope...'

They had gotten back late- about midnight. Hazel had been in and out of sleep during that time, but luckily she didn't seem to register being moved from one house to the other. Even in the rain. The same rain that left Simon freezing on the ride home. 

'Clouds are shrouding us in moments unforgettable...
You twist to fit the mold that I am in...'

He had half a good a mind to pause the song and go get another sweater. He already had a long-sleeved shirt on under his college sweater and two sets of pajama pants on (one Bugs Bunny and the other Underdog) and yet he could still feel the chill of the rain as if it were still soaked into his clothes.

"I better not be coming down with something..." He muttered, scooting over to the toaster.

Two pieces of near black toast were waiting miserably inside their metal prison. Simon frowned deeply at them. Hazel always liked her bread 'the colour of chocolate', but him? Not so much. Still, she'd berate him for eating his breakfast 'raw'. And it was better than nothing on an empty stomach. 

"Up so early?" 

The man glanced over his shoulder. His mother stood in the doorway, still dressed in her worn nightgown with a thick going out coat tossed over it. Her lips were pursed together tightly, giving her only child a once over.

"Couldn't sleep." Simon muttered, biting the corner of his toast, "... You're here early."

"I couldn't sleep either." The woman walked over to the man quickly and pressed a palm to his forehead. "You're warm-"

He batted her hand away quickly, "Too many layers. I was cold last night."

"You were also out late, judging by the bags under your eyes..." His mother huffed. She then snagged the second piece of toast and pulled up a nearby chair. "Were you at her house?"

"As a matter of fact- That's none of your buisness." Another bite, and Simon pulled up his own chair. "And you need to be nicer to my friends at any rate-"

"I don't need to be anything." Mrs. Laurent replied, "You on the other hand, need to he careful. I just don't trust that girl-"

"You don't trust anyone."

"Thats not true." The woman snapped, crunching her bread menacingly. "Why do you have to argue with me, Simon?"

"I'm not, but I'll never get anywhere with anyone if you keep this up..." The toast was nothing more than a breadcrust now, which Simon promptly pitched into a nearby garbage can. 

Not that he fully believed that. He was very much aware that he was in his own way as much as anyone else was. Change had always been something that intimidated him, even from an early age. How he ever ended up with a daughter like Hazel was beyond him. That girl changed more than the moon did and embraced it every time. 

"Maybe its best you don't get anywhere." His mother frowned. "I'd hate for you to rush into the wrong thing with the absolute wrong per-"

"Then you'll be happy to know that I told her she wasn't my type and that was the end of it." He grimaced at the words as they left his mouth. 

Simon then rose quickly and stepped over to the coffee machine, hoping coffee would rinse the bitter taste it left in his mouth. He could feel his mother's pleased smile on the back of his neck and he quickly rolled his eyes before reaching over head for a mug.

His selection? A snoopy coffee mug he knew his mother hated more than she hated Grace. 

"So thats the last we'll see of her?" She sounded so hopeful... It was infuriating.

Sure, Grace was a very strange person. Much stranger than most, but so was Simon and Hazel. She seemed to fit in quite nicely with their dynamic and, dare he say it, he was beginning to feel as though he could safely open up to her. Especially after last night. 

"No. She is a friend, mother." Simon huffed. "Hazel loves her already and she respects our boundaries... I was going to ask her to babysit Hazel more of-"

"You let her babysit my granddaughter alone!?" Right. That was stupid of him to say. He wished he could switch places with Grace's Simon for a moment.

"I was late for work and she was there- Everything worked out-" 

His mug clattered against the counter and his ear was caught between his mother's thumb and index before he had a chance to move. Head tilted towards the pain, the man glared up at his infuriated mother. For a moment, he was 10 years old again and once again failed to live up to his mother's expectations. Only this time they were in His house.

"Have you lost the best of your mind!?" The woman exclaimed, tugging at his ear, "Hazel doesn't need to get attached to anyone-"

The blonde reached up and pulled her hand away. His ear stung as well as his eyes. "Hazel is *my* daughter. You don't get to say who she gets raised around!" 

"Excuse me, but I helped you raise her when you didn't have a brain! I should-" 

A handwave silenced the woman. "And now I have my brain back and everything is fine. You were the only one who keeps bringing that time up."

"I do not!" 

"I know you still have pictures..." Simon hissed, his mother looked away quickly. "If you want to fight about it some more then I suggest you go home."

"Simon, I only kept some in case Hazel needed them." She huffed.

"She doesn't- Neither of us do."

"Clearly you don't! You left my baby alone with some stranger after all!" Mrs. Laurent wept. "Now look- I'm all worked up again!"

"She's not a stranger-" At least- not a total one.

"I thought I raised you better-" The woman went on, stalking off to the door and grabbing her purse on the way out.

Simon rolled his eyes and didn't bother to pursue her. She was always pulling acts like this to get a rise out of him and it wasn't working today.

"Where are you going?" Simon muttered, though he hardly cared to know.

As if by magic, the woman had gone from crying to smiling in a matter of seconds. "I'm off to get a donut for Hazel. She deserves it after her *horrifying* ordeal last night! Be back in a second!"

The door slammed shut behind her. A gust of crisp air managed to make it inside however, and snuck its way into the many layers of Simon's clothes. The man shivered for a moment, but not just from the cold. With shaking hands, he poured a cup of coffee before returning to his chair. He said his mug down, and his head next to it. His music still played softly around him.

'You may not know that may be all I'll need... In darkness, she is all I see (you are all I see)

Come and rest your bones with me
Driving slow on Sunday morning (and I never want to leave)

Driving slow (yeah, yeah, ah, yeah, yeah)'

A fitting song for a dreary morning. The man shut his eyes tiredly, hoping to keep his thoughts from falling into the bitter haze that was beginning to fall over him. 

"Was that grandma?" Hazel's little voice whispered in as the song played out. 

"Yeah..." Simon muttered, sitting up slowly. The haze had cleared instantly.

"She's not happy we went and saw Ms. Grace." It wasn't a question. 

The little girl padded quickly into the kitch and crawled into Simon's lap and wrapped her arms around him. "How come you let grandma bully you?"

"She's my mom, Hazel..." Simon muttered, pressing his forehead to her's. "She helped me out when you were little-"

"But I'm big now-" Hazel pouted, "And how come grandma doesn't bully me?"

"Because grandma loves you different than she loves me." Simon shrugged, "She wants you to have a good female role model is all-"

"That's stupid!" Hazel exclaimed, proudly standing on his legs, "I have Ms. Grace! Shes plenty good-"

Simon smiled faintly, "She really is now that we've gotten to know her."

He collected his child into his arms and gently blew a raspberry onto her cheek. How he managed to end up with such a sweet little girl instead of a tiny terror like his mother was even further beyond him. It was a trait she must have gotten from her mother- and hopefully never outgrew. 

If she stays around my mother though-

"How would you like Grace to be your new babysitter instead of grandma?" 

The suggestion had left his mouth before it truly entered his head- and he found he has no issue with that. It wasn't ideal, what with Grace having her own personal life to attend to and Hazel being far too attached as is- but it wasn't like it was a bad idea. It helped to switch the topic of conversation up, after all.

The little girl's eyes filled with sparkles that could rival the stars. "Really!?"

"Well- I still have to ask her... But I think it could work out." Simon shrugged again. "I had a nice talk with her last night."

"A nice 'talk' or a 'nice' talk?" Hazel's eyes squinted and Simon stuck his tongue out.

"Just a talk. A friendly chat." He smiled, "I'm now a level 0.4 acquaintance with her."

Hazel gasped, "Thats practically a best friend- or did you make a move and she rejected us so you're settling?"

"N-no... She asked about things, actually and I said she wasn't my type- since I don't remember what my type is-" A little fist whacked him right in the chest.

"Daddy! She likes you and you turned her down!? Did you lose your good brain!?" Welp, that response is something she got from his side. "She could be my new mommy instead of my babysitter!"

Simon held in a laugh and picked up Hazel under her armpits. "You want a good mommy, right? How will we know if Ms. Grace is the right one without an evaluation?"

"You got evaluated once." Hazel replied, matter-of-factly. "And I guess that's true... What did she say last night?"

"She respected my boundaries and told me some more about her Simon and Hazel." The man dropped his voice to a playful whisper. "And about the murder train they were all stuck on."

The child giggled and covered her face. "A murder train? That's silly."

"Yes, but it's a start." Simon smiled and stood up with Hazel in his arms. 

"That sounds like a level 4 friend though-" It was Hazel's turn to shrug as Simon set her on the counter and grabbed two more slices of bread. "But I like what I'm hearing. The perfect mommy is respectful of other's feelings, right?"

"That's right... And the perfect mommy wouldn't pitch you for doing the 'wrong' thing... Keep that in mind." Simon said sternly, dropping the toast in the toaster. 

"I will daddy." Hazel hummed, scooting closer to watch. "... Do we know anyone like that?"

"I do... And hopefully you never do..."

"Do you think Ms. Grace is gonna end up being like that?" Hazel pouted.

"As of right now? I hope not."

The rain pounded harder against the windows and the early Sunday sky had darkened significantly. The man felt a soft smirk cross over his face. His mother always *hated* driving in the rain, and would go out of her way to avoid it if it got too dark out...

Hopefully she decides to stay home today. We could use a day without her.

Chapter Text

It has been a month since lunch. A very long, eventful 31 days that felt more like years had gone by- 

Espeically now, squished in an uncomfortable church pew with the rest of the Laurent family. What was only supposed to be an hour sermon sure did seem to go on indefinitely. Or maybe "an hour" meant something different to church-goers. Grace's family had never been overly religious- believing faith was made up for poorer people to explain away their lack of success in life. She wasn't sure how true that rang now- but she did know that it was taking everything in her to keep from nodding off. 

A tiny hand swatted her knee, "You gotta kneel now." Hazel whispered.

The girl was currently dressed in a white uniform shirt, tucked into a long pleated skirt. Her hair had been pulled back into two thick braids. If she were anyone else's kid, Grace would have laughed at how absolutely ridiculous she looked. But since she was a friend, Grace simply smiled awkwardly and slipped down onto the hard kneeling rail in front of her. 

It was a bit of a squeeze, but she wasn't about to complain. The Father (Pedro? Patrick?) lead the church in a prayer that Grace was unfamiliar with- and she could just *feel* the cold eyes of Mrs. Laurent glaring at her like the 'heathen child' she apparently was. Luckily, Simon had taken the spot between the pair- acting as a sort of buffer. That put Grace at *some* ease.

Enough that she could close her eyes and focus on Simon's muttered prayers beside her. He spoke quickly, much too fast for Grace to keep up. A mantra long since drilled into a school boy's head that hadn't been forgotten even in adulthood. Grace shut her eyes tighter, trying to pick up on some of it. 

'Confiteor Deo et beatae Mariae semper virgini,

et beato Michaeli archangelo et beato Iohanni baptistae-'

"Thats Latin-" She muttered absently. 

Simon went quiet for a moment. "Confiteor..."

"I'm sorry?" 

Hazel replied with a whisper/yell of "Its a Confession Prayer... I don't know all the words either, so daddy says I can pretend-"

If Mrs. Laurent wasn't glaring before, she certainly was now. Grace could feel those two steel orbs, damning her down to Hell for interrupting mass... Grace pressed against Simon's shoulder gently as if to remind him of his job as a human shield. The man gave a quick nod in response and resumed his muttering. 

'Et sanctis apostolis Petro et Paulo et beato Leutherio et Cassiano et beato Iuvenale-'

There were words she could pick up on- just whatever she had learned during her studies at private school. Which in retrospect was not much of anything. Latin had never been something that interested her. Even less than religion had. Still- she liked the way it sounded when Simon spoke in it. It was pleased to the ear the same way a song or a roll of thunder before the rain might be. 

Her eyes felt heavy again, and she allowed them to shut a second time-

"What does this word mean?" 

The 13 year old girl studied the textbook they found closely. It was a book of French words with absolutely no pictures. She wrinkled her nose at the words- long words with random letters that you only pronounce half of. She was so busy glaring at them that she didn't notice her friend until he was leaning on her arm. 

He studied the page for a moment. 

"Um- bird." A shrug.

"Bird?" Grace frowned deeply, "And how do you say it in French?"

" Oiseau." Another shrug. 

"Oiseau..." She tasted the word on her tongue. Rolled it around in her head a few times until she decided that she liked the sound of it. "I think most words sound better in French... How come you don't speak French anymore, Simon?"

"Its been a few years since I had to-" The boy sighed, scratching the side of his face awkwardly. He had a faint pink tint to his ears and cheeks, but Grace assumed it was just the lighting.

"So? Isn't it one of those things you just know forever?" The textbook was slammed shut.

"Not really- like a lot of languages, if you don't learn it young you have trouble with pronunciation later... Or something... I forget what my tutor said." Simon frowned and took the book from Grace.

"But I like hearing you use it." The pink on Simon's face darkened. Grace bit back a smile.

"L-like I said. It isn't something I can really do anymore- not correctly at least." The boy hid his face in his palm. "I'm out of practice-"

"So, just practice now. Its okay if you mess up- I wouldn't know if you did anyway." The girl smiled brightly, and Simon returned the look.

"Okay... But only because you asked!"

"Well, go on then."

Simon nodded and opened the textbook. He flipped back until he eventually arrived at the first page. With a deep breath for confidence, he began to read the first word.

"Armistice-" 

A harsh knock against Grace's shoulder had her sitting up so quickly that she bonked heads with Simon on the way up. The church was still and quiet, and yet she could feel so many eyes on her... Three sets to be precise. 

"Ms. Grace- You fell asleep on daddy." Hazel whispered hurriedly. 

"W-what-" Grace felt heat pool in her cheeks as she took in her surroundings. 

Most of the church-goers were at the door, all talking quietly with the Father as they left. Come to think of it- The Laurents were the only family still in a pew. A good thing too- what with the way Mrs. Laurent was currently ranting and raving. 

"In all my years, I have never been so embarrassed!" The older woman exclaimed. "Why did you think to invite her, Simon!? Did you see the way Father Patri-"

"He didn't see anything, mom." Simon sighed, rising on stiff legs and offering Grace a hand before his mother could lunge at her. 

Grace took it carefully. "I'm sorry-" 

"You should be! We are an upstanding family in this church-" Oh how Mrs. Laurent reminded Grace of her own mother before her disappearance. 

It was always 'We're an upstanding family' this and 'you're such an embarrassment' that. If it weren't for their conflicting views on Grace, she half considered introducing them. Her mother could use some *friends* she could complain to instead of her daughter... Then again, from what she could tell from the few times she interacted with Mrs. Laurent- those two would have each other's hair pulled out by the end of the conversation.

"Mom- Let it go." Simon snapped suddenly, "We invited Grace out-"

"And I don't see how you thought that was a good idea!" The old woman stopped to wipe her forehead with a napkin from her purse. "Absolutely ridiculous!"

Why had she been invited again? Right- it was because Hazel had suggested it after she said she had 'nothing better to do' that day. That seemed to be the way things went now of days. Grace would mention an opening in her schedule and Hazel would rush in to fill it. This usually involved trips to the store, park, and sometimes out to eat- but this was the first time it had been church. Though, since it was Hazel asking, there was no way Grace could have said no. 

"Grandma, you said daddy used to fall asleep in church all the time." Hazel cut in, taking Grace's empty hand in hers.

"He was ten years old and he always got a stern lecture and a ruler for doing so." Mrs. Laurent huffed, rising finally and grabbing her coat harshly. "And don't get involved, Hazel dear... Grandma has had a long day as is..."

With that, the older woman shuffled out of the pew and headed for the door. Grace couldn't hear exactly what she was saying to Father Patrick, but she was almost positive she was filling him in on 'what happened'. The young woman rolled her eyes up to the Heavens, asked forgiveness for the 'unforgivable sin' and then rolled them back down. 

"Well, that takes care of her..." Simon muttered, digging into his pocket for his car keys. "Who wants to get donuts while she's busy?"

"I do! I do!" Hazel exclaimed, waving her free hand about wildly. "What about you, Ms. Grace?"

"That sounds nice. Thank you Hazel." Grace forced a smile. Her face still felt like it was on fire. 

Hazel didn't seem to notice, and tugged on her hand. Grace offered both of the hands holding hers a little squeeze, and the trio started off for a different exit. Her heart rate increased a little- she prayed to whatever God this church prayed to that Mrs. Laurent didn't see them and accuse her of stealing again.

"Don't worry about her." Simon muttered, "She can talk for a *while*. Hazel and I do this all the time."

"Heh... She reminds me of my mom." Grace mumbled back, "Except the whole 'religion' thing... And the 'Ruler' bit... Your mom didn't actually hit you, did she?"

"She did." Simon shrugged, "Doesn't bother me." 

Grace tensed up a little. She believed less in hitting a child than she did religion. "I like her even less now..."

"She's not a fan of you either." Hazel squeaked. Her tone was innocent yet knowing. "I'm sorry she was mean to you."

"I had a feeling." Grace sighed, letting go of Simon's hand to kneel in front of Hazel. "How about next time, you only invite me places where your grandma isn't going to be? Okay?"

"Okay, Ms. Grace. Consider that done." Hazel smiled then turned her attention to Simon, "Daddy? Can I borrow your phone so I can write that down?"

"Trust me, I'll remember it." Simon huffed. 

Grace took his hand again and squeezed it lightly. An act that seemed to do little in dispelling Simon's bad mood. Hazel seemed to notice, and tugged on Grace's hand.

"It's okay, Grace. Grandma didn't like me either but now she does." Her smile was so warm and geuine- but Grace froze.

"She didn't like her own grandchild?" Grace frowned deeply. "Why not?"

"Cause she said I was too dar-" 

Simon released Grace's hand and scooped Hazel up quickly. His face was blood red and and tucked his child against his chest while his mouth opened and closed in a failed attempt to explain things. It didn't take an explanation for Grace to piece things together. 

"I see..." She hummed. "Thats good to know-"

"I'm sorry-" Simon finally managed, "She-"

"We can't help how are parents are, Simon." Grace offered him a soft smile. 

"I know- trust me, I don't like any of it-" The man slowly released Hazel. "She's very hard to get rid of."

"She's your mom. I understand that." A shrug, "You don't have to agree with her on everything."

"We rarely do..." Simon muttered. 

Grace's smile faded a little. Hazel was beginning to look as upset as her father did- it broke the woman's heart. She forced a bright smile back on her face and wrapped an arm around Simon's shoulders. "So don't worry about it- come on! Lets get Hazel that donut." 

Out of a learned habit- one she had almost forgotten- she flipped Simon's ponytail. The man tensed up as his hair fluttered about. Grace pretended not to notice, just as she pretended she didn't notice his blush return the moment she stepped away from him.

"Okay- lets go."

"Good. I know a good place."

Baker's Dozen Cafe

A cute 'little' high-end bakery that made everything from donuts to lava cakes. They also had the *best* coffee in Grace's opinion. Prices were a little on the steep side, but Hazel's sparkling eyes as she darted across to the different displays made it worth every penny.

"Daddy, look! There's a cupcake with a ducky on it!" The child exclaimed, "And one with rain boots!"

"Too much sugar." Simon called back, "I thought you said you wanted a donut-"

Grace chuckled, "Relax, Simon. She can pick out whatever she wants. I'm treating her."

"Please don't." Simon frowned, "I feel like I owe you already."

"My family could use $20 as toilet paper. Don't worry about it." 

"That's not what I meant..." 

Grace huffed, "Relax. So your mom is an asshole. Big deal. The important thing is that Hazel is happy-"

"It is a big deal-" Grace flipped his ponytail again. Funny how it drew the same reaction as it had from her Simon, in that this Simon shut up instantly and blushed faintly. "Enough. I'm trying to be serious-"

"And I'm trying to get you to let it go. I've met a million of your mother. It doesn't bother me." Not a complete lie... Not anymore. 

"I don't want you to be uncomfortable coming around-"

"And how the tables have turned... Didn't you used to be the one who was uncomfortable with me?" 

Simon stuttered, rushing to get his words out so fast that he tripped over them. A rather far cry from his reciting earlier. "Y-yes- b-but that was because of what you said and not-"

"Simon, I seriously don't care. Like I've said, I've run into a million of your mom and only one of you and Hazel. Theres no bad blood between us." That I'm aware of-

"Only one of us?" Simon rose an eyebrow, "Didn't you used to say we reminded you of your frien-"

"Only appearance wise now. Trust me- now that I know you, I can say confidently that you are *nothing* like my Simon... Except he used to freak out if I touched his ponytail too."

That drew a faint smile from the blonde. "Are you sure?"

"I'm going to level with you. I've got a would-be-grandma who is ready to replace your mom at a moment's notice. I don't want to deprive Hazel of that." She teased, elbowing Simon softly in the ribs. That drew a much brighter smile from him. 

"A would-be-grandma? I don't know. Are you sure my Hazel is up to her standards?" Simon smirked. So prideful and overconfident, and yet Grace had no desire to smack that look off of his face.

"My mom already has adoption papers at the ready." Grace smirked back, "Her standards are non-existent now that I'm 25."

Simon's smirk fell. "Wait- back it up. Did you tell her we set boundaries?" 

"I did and she ignored me and said to 'try harder'." Grace snickered. "You should have seen her face when I said I was joining you at church today."

"Well, I hope you don't feel compelled to 'try harder'." The smirk returned, "It's enough having just Hazel pushing for it-"

*Chime!*

The pair turned their attention to the door and speak of the Devil (and pray him away) that who should walk in but Grace's own mother. The glamorous woman was dressed in her Sunday best and walked like a model... It was so staged that all she was missing was a director shouting 'Cut!' And some stage lights. 

"What a coincidence. I didn't expect to see you three in here." Mrs. Monroe said, lowering her sunglasses to the tip of her nose.

"Hey! Its that lady who gave me cookies!" Hazel exclaimed, happily running over and pressing her face into the older woman's belly. "Grace is going to buy me a donut!" 

"Is she now?" Her award winning smile may have rivaled Grace's, but she could see right through it. This wasn't a friendly bump-in. Her mother was keeping tabs and this time she was in the field. "She best get to that then."

Grace wrinkled her nose slightly, but stopped when Hazel grabbed her hand and tugged her towards the display case. Grace's attention was only half on the treats. The other half was still on her mother who had stepped an inch and a half closer to Simon.

I've have just about had it with mom's today... Whichever God is out there, if you can hear me-

"So, Simon is it? How have you been?" Her mother began. 

"Fine-" He offered back, "Yourself?"

"I'm fine, dear. And how is Hazel?" The hostess tone of her mother grated against her ears.

"She's fine, ma'am." 

"She looks very cute today. You as well. Are you coming from somewhere?" A bait question so obvious Grace was sure she saw Simon roll his eyes at it."

"Church with my mother." Simon said, "Though your daughter tells me you already knew about that."

Grace stifled a laugh behind her hand and hid her face before anyone could accuse her of eavesdropping. She could briefly feel her mother glaring at the back of her head. 

"Yes, well-" Her mother cleared her throat. "How is your mother? I'm not sure I've ever met her."

"You'd be thankful for that." This time, Grace hid her laugh in a cough.

"I'm sorry?" Mrs. Monroe rose a thin eyebrow. 

"She isn't very pleasant to be around, unlike your daughter and yourself." Smooth Simon. 

The older woman laughed and swatted Simon's arm gently. "You are just adorable. I can see where Hazel gets her charm from." 

It was Simon's turn to stifle a laugh under his palm. Grace briefly locked eyes with him as they silently and discretely rolled their eyes together. Hazel tugged her over to another display before she could listen further. This display held actual donuts. All the colours of the rainbow and all the flavors of the kitchen.

"She's perfect." Hazel whispered.

"For what?" Grace asked.

"For my new grandma." Hazel replied, "Shes got everything a grandma needs. Money, cookies, and she's nice to daddy."

"Really? That's all a grandma needs?" Grace pouted, "I'm not sure you'd like my mom to be your grandma anyhow. She doesn't even go to church-"

Hazel gasped, her eyes sparkling so brightly they looked absolutely full of glitter. "She's perfect! All she has to do is buy all donuts and shes in-"

"Wait. She's in as your new grandma but I'm barely in the running to date your dad?" Grace teased, "How is that fair?"

"Daddy has boundries and I just want snacks." Hazel answered bluntly. "Who knows. Maybe we'll work our way to you."

"Oh re-"

Her mother cut her off. "Grace, darling, put your money away. I'm going to cover this."

Grace just barely missed the smirk that flashed across Hazel's face, but she could so loudly hear the turning gears in the child's brain. One quick glance at Simon told her that not only did he hear them too, but he didn't mind it. With a gentle huff, Grace crossed back over to the man's side and rested her head on his shoulder.

"Hazel wants my mom to be her new grandma." She muttered.

"I know." Simon replied, "Its not a bad idea... She could use a good grandma figure."

Grace rolled her eyes again. "Careful there... You'll be invited to every family outing if she hears you say that."

"She already invited us to Florida with you all at the end of the month." Simon's voice was even, but Grace could feel his pulse pick up from where her head touched his throat.

"And what did you say...?"

"Yes. I figured it was a welcome change." Simon shrugged, "Besides. We're usually the ones inviting *you* out."

"... Is your agoraphobia going to be an issue?" She asked, glancing over at her mother and Hazel quickly. 

"I just have to remind myself that it's either Florida or church with my mother and I should be fine." He teased back, nudging Grace's side playfully. 

"Good deal." Grace huffed, watching as Hazel continued to point to every pastry her eyes landed on. 

Her mother simply nodded her head and smiled down at the girl. That smile seemed geuine. She didn't seem at all embarrassed by Hazel even as she attempted to climb the counter to get a better look. From beside her, Simon watched the pair fondly. The kind of look one gives to things being as they should be- even if they weren't.The same kind of look Grace made when looking at all three of them.

Her heart ached at the thought. Part of it felt as though she were betraying her own Simon by doing exactly what this Simon's mother had accused her of. Once again the thief she had been when the Train first came to claim her. With a frown, Grace shut her eyes and for the first time in her life- she prayed. 

Confiteor Deo et beatae Mariae semper virgini, et beato Michaeli archangelo et beato Iohanni baptistae...

Chapter Text

Sunday morning, rain was falling- but not a single person in the Laurent household planned to remain inside for the day. Not with their impending trip to Florida looming on the horizon. Sure, Hazel had packed her bags the moment she heard the news, but that didn't stop Simon from fussing over things up until the last possible second. 

Even now, the day of, Simon was rushing between bedrooms. Still trying to pack up the last few things they would be 'needing' on the trip. Grace, who had come by earlier that morning to pick them up, could only watch and shake her head at him.

She currently found herself watching him from Hazel's room, with several suitcases surrounding her. Only one was closed- sorta. Hazel was perched up on that suitcase in an effort to keep it shut. It was overflowing with colouring books, and one still lay forgotten on the bed. The woman picked it up to study it.

It certainly wasn't a normal colouring book as far as she could tell. Each page had sharp lines that were wound tightly together into intricate shapes and patterns. Much too complicated for a child. 

"Simon, we'll only be gone a few days. I don't think Hazel needs *this* many colouring books." She called to him, but he had already disappeared from the room without a response. "Figures..."

As if on cue, Simon poked his head back in, "Half of them are mine, and since I'm the dad, I win."

"What does a grown man need colouring books for?" Grace pouted and tossed the book at the man- it smacked him directly in the face before it clattered to the floor.

Simon returned the pout. "Don't look at me like that- Its just something to do... It's a long flight!" 

The blonde shrugged a shoulder and collected the book from the floor. "Are you ready to go, Hazel?" 

"As I'll ever be!" The girl cheered, and in one hop she was off the bed and in her father's arms.

"Are you sure?" Grace teased, stepping over a suitcase. "Do you want to use the potty? Or pack the fridge before we leave?"

Hazel smiled, "I'm sure! I've always wanted to go on an adventure ever since your mommy suggested it!"

Grace chuckled, "Is that right? Well, I hope you're extra excited because we're going someplace extra special on our trip-"

Hazel's eyes went as wide as saucepans. "Oooh! Where is it!?"

Adorable. Time to be mysterious-

"I'd tell you, but its a surprise that only your daddy and I know. Okay?" The disappointment that flash acrossed Hazel's eyes was- absolutely adorable and Grace could just eat her up.

"Nooooo! Tell me, tell me!" Hazel whined. 

"No can do."

"Teeeeeeeeeeell meeeeeeeee!"

"Nope." 

Grace eventually had to look away at all that cute to another kind of cute- Simon.

The man looked so smug about their well kept secret. A well kept secret that only they knew. And that was that shortly after their trip had been announced, the pair made secret plans to fit in Hazel's first trip to Disneyworld. It was only about an hour from the resort they'd be staying at, so it wouldn't disrupt the initial trip too too much. 

"You'll just have to see when you get there- Which is a few hours from now."

"How many hours?" Hazel asked. 

"Not too many-" Grace looked down at her watch. "We'd better hurry though- our flight leaves at 3!"

"It's only 10! Whats the hurry?" Hazel pouted. "You got time to tell me where we're going-"

"Trust me, kiddo. We don't."

"We do!"

"Don't!"

"Do!"

"Don't-"

"Do! Padlock!" Hazel lept from Simon's arms and raced away before Grace could argue.

Grace rolled her eyes quickly before she dipped down and began to close and zip the Laurent's *various* suitcases. She could feel Simon watch her for a moment before he kneeled beside her. Neither spoke at first- but there was static in the air. 

"Whats up?" Grace said at last.

"What do you mean?" Simon asked, zipping up the last suitcase.

"Just a feeling." Grace shrugged. "You're overpacking and agoraphobic. Are you sure you're gonna be okay on the plane?"

"A little late to ask that..." Simon huffed, "But yeah. I'll be fine-"

Grace set a hand on the man's shoulder. She squeezed it gently. "Hey. It'll be okay." 

"I know- I just have to get through the plane ride." The blonde smiled. "It'll be worth it... Hazels been looking forward to this trip."

"But have you?" 

"Not really-" He was teasing, of course, but Grace still frowned. "Kidding. I'm still excited."

"Good. I didn't waste all that time preparing for this just for you to chicken out-"

"You? Prepared for something?" The man raised an eyebrow. "Why don't I believe that?"

"You'd better believe it, Laurent." Grace's eyes narrowed. "I'm getting you two there one way or another."

"Now that, I don't doubt." Simon smirked, "What did you have in mind-"

"Lets just say I've done research." Grace winked, "Now come on. With all this luggage, we'll never get to the airport in time."

"Yes we will-"

"Trust me, we won't."

"Will."

"Won't-"

"Will-"

Oh, just how right had Grace been...?

Well, between helping the Laurents pack up their many bags, her mother wanting to take a million family photos to 'commemorate' the trip, and stopping to get Hazel breakfast- the group only had just enough time to get checked in and on the plane before it took off. They had even less time to find their damn seats! 

Granted they were first-class seats, so they weren't very hard to find- but still!

"One more photo before take-off-" Mrs. Monroe started, but Grace waved her off.

"Mom, we've got plenty of time for photos later- Can't we just sit a minute and unwind?" Grace groaned and tossed herself into a seat.

Each one was practically its own couch, so she was able to get comfortable quickly. Her's was located in the aisle- next to the one's Simon and Hazel had chosen. Hazel had taken the window seat. This left Simon between them- not that Grace was complaining. It gave them a chance to talk-

Or not.

When she turned, she found Simon was staring straight ahead, hands pressed hard against the armrests. His breathing seemed normal enough, but Grace knew better. She had spent many nights brushing up on "panic attack signs" and "agoraphobia symptoms" in preparation for this trip...

Tip #1 had always been to try and keep a person's mind off of things with pleasent conversations.

"Hey- you doing okay?" 

It was Hazel who replied. "Look! I can see the wings! There's no gremlins on them like in that movie we saw!"

"Not helpful, Hazel..." Simon muttered, eyes shut now. 

"But that means our plane won't crash because the wings fell off and we won't die horrible painful deaths!" Hazel beamed and Grace died a little on the inside. Simon squeezed her hand tightly in response.

"Hazel- How about a colouring book? Your dad needs some quiet time-"

"Is it so he doesn't throw up from nerves because he doesn't like planes? Grandma says he'll throw up from nerves-" Now- Grace loved Hazel dearly.

Truly she did. Loved her with every fiber of her being, but right now- she just wanted to chuck that little runt into the river. Simon's grip on Grace's hand had tightened significantly. So much so that the woman winced in pain from it.

"Hazel- you're *really* not helping." The woman frowned.

Hazel matched her frown, "But daddy was okay when we got breakfast remember? I had eggs, and bacon, and pancakes and-"

---

Holding back Simon's hair as he wretched into an airplane toilet wasn't how Grace had expected to spend this plane ride- yet here she was. 

"I really thought Hazel would have been more helpful... I thought you said she knew about this-" Grace hummed, rubbing her free hand down the other's spine. 

"S-shes never been on a plane before... She's just excited." Simon muttered, resting his head on the toilet seat. "Nothing came out..."

"I can see that." Grace hummed, then helped him back to his feet. "All in favor for Hazel switching seats?"

"I hate to say it- but please." Simon huffed tiredly, rinsing his mouth quickly. 

"Consider it done." Grace rubbed her head and directed the other out of the bathroom. "Your kid is so mean..."

"She is, but she's my pride and joy when she isn't trying to kill me." 

The woman rolled her eyes and they returned to their seats. Hazel was innocently scribbling in her book upon their return. Like she didn't just freak her dad out to the point of nearly vomiting. A complete 180 to her usual personality. 

"Get up, Hazel. You're switching seats." Simon said bluntly, tossing himself unceremoniously into the middle seat.

"I thought you might say that." Hazel packed up her things and hopped up quickly- 

So quickly that Grace almost missed the proud little smirk that crossed over her face. The girl had disappeared further up the aisle before Grace could call her out on it. Up ahead, Grace could just barely make out the happy chattering of Hazel and her own mother. With a pout, she sat down next to Simon- just the two of them. Right next to each other- alone.

"She did this on purpose." Simon said, confirming Grace's suspicion. "She wants me alone with you..."

"That little rat..." She muttered, "Si- your kid is a criminal mastermind in the making..."

"In the making?" Simon scoffed, "She already is..."

"Should we call her back to her seat then-?" Another scoff.

"No- she knows exactly what to say right now... I've taught her too well." Simon cracked an eye, smiling weakly but proudly. 

"You taught her how to take you out in just a few short sentences?" Grace laughed, "Theres a reason they don't teach that in Kindergarten-"

"No- I taught her reverse psychology." Simon hummed, "Granted, this was the same time I taught her about triggers... Not a good idea in hindsight..."

"Maybe thats why she made it seem like she didn't want me as her mom... Reverse psychology?" 

"Wait- she what?" Simon frowned, but Grace waved her hand in front of him. 

"Don't worry about that part... Anyway- we've always got plan B." Grace hummed.

"Whats that?"

"A plan that I'm just gonna say is short for "Being Prepared"." She teased.

And she came prepared, as promised.

With a hum, she slipped a small pill out of her pocket. A Xanax to be exact. One she had picked up for this very occasion for this very situation. Granted- it probably would have worked better had she given it to Simon *before* they boarded, but it was his own fault for not heading her warning and wasting time packing.

"Here-" Grace placed her hand overtop Simon's and placed it under his palm. 

"What-"

"Its a Xanax." 

"Thanks-" Simon muttered and took the pill without another word.

"You didn't even check? That could have been a-" Grace stopped herself from teasing. Saying things like that, even jokingly, could escalate things. The exact opposite of what she wanted to happen.

Instead, she looped her fingers around her friend's and squeezed gently. "How about we try to take a nap? That always helped when I was little-"

"How long does this take to work?" Simon cut in, pressing lightly on Grace's hand.

"About half an hour." Grace replied, and all she could do was count down the seconds until the Xanax did its work. 

"... Thanks..." Second time she had heard that in two seconds.

"Don't mention it. Its what friends do..." She shrugged, rubbing her thumb over the other's knuckles. 

A silence fell between the pair. Even with the pill, Simon's breathing sounded off. Not quite hyperventilating, but boardering on that. Grace poured over her mental notes on what to do in a situation like this. She considered striking up another conversation- something that didn't involve Simon or his panic attack. 

"... Just out of curiosity- was your friend ever like this?" He asked suddenly. 

Grace flinched. Her research had told her starting pleasant conversation was the way to go- but it didn't say what to do if the afflicted person was the one starting the unpleasant conversation! Still- she kept it in mind that Simon was changing the topic as a way to distract himself and not out of actual interest.

Settling into her seat more, she squeezed the man's hand lightly and searched her brain for a response. 

"He wasn't agoraphobic- but he was a boy scout so he'd always get super anal about us going out unprepared." She began, "This one time we took a... A 'vacation'- and he lectured me about rations..."

"Rations-?" Simon scoffed, "What sort of vacation were you two on?"

"Well, I told you about the Murder Train, right? This was when we got seperated from our group and ended up meeting our Hazel for the first time-" A nod.

"What was she like?" Simon asked, "Your Hazel?"

"She was... Absolutely perfect..." Grace smiled a watery smile at the memory. "The sweetest little peach pie there was... She always smelt like dirt and she gave the best hugs and loved eggs and everyone with her whole heart-"

"... What happened to her?" Simon asked, "You said you parted ways once-"

"She and Simon had it out- as you know, and she became this jaded, bitter little girl-" She stopped to breathe a moment, "C-can we talk about something else? Something not terrible?" 

A pause.

"... Okay..." Another, longer pause, and for a moment Grace assumed the Xanax had kicked in, but then Simon spoke again. "You followed me out of the store when we first met- You called after me, right?"

She frowned. "Yeah?" 

"Why?" 

Grace pushed herself further back into her seat and into her memories, trying to pull up a specific one from that day. She had panicked over seeing Not-Her-Simon, watched him from the bench and then-

'Don't be a worry baby... Don't have to hurry, baby... When you're with me-'

"Y-you were humming a song- One I hadn't heard in years!" She exclaimed.

"A song-" Simon frowned, seemingly searching his own mind for his own memory of what had happened that day. "Right-"

"I was going to ask where you learned that song from- It was my Hazel's song. She taught it to my Simon-" 

Her hand was released, and Simon folded his hands on his lap calmly. His eyebrows were scrunched in thought and his eyes looked so far away- as though he saw something beyond the seats in front of them for only an instance.

"That was a long time ago- I don't really remember where I heard it from." He frowned, "I didn't realize it was so important to you-"

"It was Hazel's song-"

"So?"

"So? If it weren't for that song, I never would have gone after you, dummy!" Not a full lie, "Because of that song, I actually had myself convinced you were *my* Simon up until we went out to lunch-" 

"Isn't that a bad thing?" Simon's hands gripped the fabric of his jeans. "Not to sound like a broken record- but did I come off as *that* much of a psychopath that it took you that long to figure it out?"

"... Okay, a little- but you're nothing like him. My parents would *never* invite him to Florida with us. That much I guarantee you."

"... Is that all?"

"No- you two are completely different. You're funny, a devote Catholic, one of the kindest people I know- You're an amazing father to a beautiful little girl and your quirks are endearing without being overzealous- not to mention you actually seem to take care of yourself and take responsibility for your actions." She paused to breathe.

"And then theres the obvious crap like how you're too tall, blonde, and handsome to be my Simon." 

"What was that last part?" 

Grace's face lit up, but Simon had his eyes closed and a semi-dazed look on his face. If she had to guess, she would say that pill had already begun to kick in and she could get away with playing dumb.

"Too blonde?"

"Yeah- what the hell does that mean?" Well, she was saved.

"Like- Your hair is too dark. My Simon had really light hair- I think." One of Simon's hands found her's- touching her's so lightly that she was now sure he was strung out and didn't even register his hand had moved at all. 

"Do I even look anything like this guy?" There was a laugh at the edge of his voice, and Grace set her hand overtop his. 

"Not at all... He was pale with light hair and blue eyes. You're tawny blonde with freckles and grey eyes." That- that drew a louder laugh from Simon. "What?"

"I don't even look like the guy and you thought I was him because of a song?" Simon snickered, but Grace couldn't find herself getting annoyed by it. 

"In fairness, the person who wrote that song was a purple gorilla who took care of Hazel- And you don't look *that* different from far away, okay!?" That only made Simon laugh harder. 

Despite being teased, Grace could feel a smile worming its way onto her face. It was honestly cute to hear him laugh. It was nice to see him finally relax and knowing she helped him to get this way. And as always, it was just nice having a friend she could have a good time with without any fear of- well, anything. 

There was no real threat on this plane- aside from what only Simon could sense. There was no Train, no numbers, no Gohms. Just two friends headed off on a family vacation while trying to remain calm while getting there... And having a good, possibly drug-induced laugh with one another while doing it.

After a few moments, Simon's laughter died down and his head rested on his shoulder. His hair tumbled across his face in soft waves. Grace smiled, and lifted her free hand and brushed a few strands of hair away. When he didn't react, she assumed he had finally fallen asleep. That was fine by her too. 

Up ahead, she could see that Hazel had fallen asleep as well, curled up on her mother's lap like a little housecat. Her thoughts shifted suddenly, the scene now reminding her of a certain *other* housecat she had had the displeasure of coming across. A certain white one, whose stupid face annoyed Grace worse than Mrs. Laurent's did. 

Unlike the Cat, Grace had seen Mrs. Laurent recently. The bitter old crow had given her quite the lecture when she found out about their trip... How Grace had wished the woman was cat sized so she'd be small enough for her to wring her stupid neck.

The woman smiled bitterly at the thought, wondering briefly what Samantha may have been up to at the moment- and what her own Hazel might be doing. At least she never had to wonder about her Simon and Tuba. 

Glancing out the window, she began to study the different clouds they drifted though- wondering if maybe her friends were hidden in one, if thats where they went after the Train let them go- if it ever left them go. She wondered if maybe this Hazel's mother was on one. Hiding from a family who couldn't remember her- or if she had been real at all. 

In all of her musings, she barely noticed when Simon's cool forehead came to rest against her shoulder. Completely trusting and comforting. Her free hand found his cheek and brushed it gently to confirm that it was solid and very real, unlike her thoughts. She wondered if that's how this Simon felt with his agoraphobia. Like there was always something there when it wasn't. It made her wonder if perhaps she wasn't alright in the head either or if it mattered. 

Or maybe she was just a Worry-Baby- like in Tuba's song. Maybe it was time she took a page from it and left the rest behind to just enjoy life- but she had said that before and never followed through. Everything had stopped her and somehow she always wound up at square one. Comparing new things to old things and never truly moving passed the old and not there. And now she had dragged this Simon into all of it.

That sweet man who never did anything to her. Who decided to be her friend despite all of the crazy things she said, even when he had his own demon (and some mental anquish) to deal with. It made her immeasurably happy- they made her immeasurably happy. Her two best friends who loved her without limit even when one of them was at their worst. 

Dark, thin fingers tangled themselves through tawny blonde strands unconsciously. It was a similar texture to his daughter's own hair, and Grace loved it immensely. 

Loved-

There was a word Grace hadn't thought of in a while- at least not deeply. After the Train- she never thought she'd ever give the concept more than a passing glance. She had loved someone- two someones in different ways once- and thought she never would again and yet... With this man and this little family she felt as though she might be able to someday consider the notion of l-

"Nope. Not having this discussion with myself just yet." She muttered outloud, pulling her hand free and sending it to her pocket. 

Grace felt around rapidly until her hand brushed another pill. Another Xanax- one of four. Like Simon, she took it in hand and popped it in her mouth without a second thought. Unlike Simon- she had convinced herself that she was feeling the effects instantly. Anything to explain away any lingering thoughts she had. 

Its too soon to even consider that...

Closing her eyes, she allowed herself to rest her head against Simon's and join him in sleep. 

By the time she awoke, her back was stiff and her eyes watered painfully as she looked about. From out the window, she could see an airport landing strip and a significant lack of Simon beside her. Or anyone for that matter. In fact, the plane was eerily quiet. Too quiet for her liking. She was about to look around when a hand brushed her shoulder.

It wasn't Simon, but her mother. 

"Oh good, you're awake." The older woman cooed lovingly, giving Grace's shoulder a gentle shake, "Come along then. We've arrived."

"W-wheres Simon?" She asked, voice still heavy with sleep.

A part of Grace (the still drugged up part) worried that perhaps the past few weeks were all a dream and this was the part where she woke up to find that the little family had just been a figment of her imagination- 

But her mother's sudden, knowing smile reassured her that they were very real. 

"He and Hazel went with your father. Something about needing a drink or the like-." Her mother replied, offering her hand. "Now come, dear. We're off to the resort. Its not too far from here, and we'll have dinner as soon as we unpack-"

Grace tuned out her mother's ramblings. She was too tired (and now too hungry) to care. With a faint smile, she followed her mother out of the plane and into the airport to rejoin the other's. A large 'Welcome' sign hung overhead as they walked in. It was a familiar sight, one that Grace had seen many times as a child- back when familiar vacations were a novelty.

Yet somehow, it truly felt as though she was being welcomed here. An honored guest with a real family to enjoy it all with. Now that they had landed and home was behind, she was ready for some rest and relaxation.

Chapter Text

They're first day in Florida had been uneventful. 

While dinner was good, the Laurents were tired. So tired that Hazel nearly collapsed into her desert. Simon didn't fair any better, and honestly, neither did Grace. Grace's parents paid for the meal and lead them off to the suite they'd be staying in. It was a large, spacious room with two rooms, three beds, and two bathrooms, with Grace's parents taking one room and Grace and the Laurents taking the other. 

Hazel groaned tiredly and climbed into the first bed she could get to and wrapped her arms around Grace's hips. The woman didn't bother to move her. After some very boring unpacking, the trio were all in the one bed by 9. They had fallen asleep in a pile the moment their heads touched the pillow. 

...

The following morning Simon and Hazel were up at 5, went for an early swim, and were back before the sun was even high in the sky. Grace was up by the time they got back, and together they partook in an even more uneventful breakfast before returning to the hotel and switching into their clothes for the day. Special clothes Grace had picked out for Hazel's special trip. 

The little girl was practically bouncing with excitement now- even during the boring car ride to their destination. 

"Is it a Waterpark?" 

"No."

"Are we there yet?"

"Almost."

"Is it a Waterpark?"

"You already asked that, and no."

"Is it a-"

Before Hazel could ask, Grace shook her shoulder and pointed out the window. The tell-tale castle was looming on the horizon. The sounds of "Its a Small World" and the screams of tired infants filled their ears. There were horrible, horrible costumed, licensed characters everywhere, and a hint of magic in the air. They were finally at the Happiest Place on Earth: Disneyworld. 

"Oh God..." Simon whispered, but Hazel seemed to be on cloud 9. Her tiny face was smushed against the car window so hard Grace was sure she was stuck. 

"DISNEYLAND!? I GET TO GO TO DISNEYLAND!?" The girl exclaimed.

"Disneyland is in California. This is Disneyworld-" Simon corrected, tossling his beloved child's hair. 

Hazel frowned deeply. "Is DisneyWORLD the bigger one?" A nod, "I GET TO GO TO DISNEYWORLD!?"

"You sure do, monkey." Simon smiled, but Grace could see his soul packing up to leave already. 

She gently nudged his arm and whispered, "Disneyworld is also the place that has alcohol."

A quiet "Oh God..." Was Simon's response as they exited the rental car. Hazel was already out and running to the entrance, followed by Simon. With a roll of her eyes, Grace tugged a disposable camera out of her pocket and raced after them. 

Simon caught up to Hazel before Grace. "Hold up, Hazel! Ground rules first!" 

"I know the ground rules!" The child groaned, trying to kick her way out of her father's arms. 

Even from a few feet behind, Grace could see Simon's demeanor shift from relaxed to tensed up. He was about to overworry again. Frowning, Grace jogged the rest of the way over and stood at Simon's side- ready to help him through a panic attack if need be.

"I'll be fiiiiiine!" Hazel was whining. "I know what to do-"

"List your procedures then." 

Grace internally rolled her eyes, but stood at attention when the blonde set his sights sternly on her. His grey eyes were as hard and serious as stone. A shiver ran down her spine and she suddenly felt like she was in bootcamp and NOT at Disney. Even Hazel looked more like a little soldier.

"Procedure 580- Danger, 480- Tired, 475- Goofy looked at you funny, 847- Nearest exit located at gates A, B, and C, and 972- Create an exit!" Hazel rattled off, adding a stern salute at the end. 

"And 232- Its been 30 minutes and you need water and sunscreen." Simon added, sending a glance Grace's way. "I hope you were paying attention."

"Honestly, I wasn't." Grace sighed, "Come on, Si. It's Disneyworld. I think we'll be fine-"

Hazel had looked so hopeful- until her dad frowned and pointed at Grace, tone seemingly stuck at "military". 

"My kid. My rules. We're in unfamiliar territory where anyone could be a psychopath." Simon pouted, looking back at Hazel quickly. "Speaking of which: do you rememeber where a major artery is in case of an emergency?"

Grace answered. "You're right, anyone could be a psycho- including drill Sargent dads who don't know how to have fun." 

Simon's posture shifted again. He had gone from tensed up to absolutely rigid. "Grace, she's my kid. Stay out of this for two seconds."

"Simon, I've been here before. I'm an expert at this kind of stuff." Grace matched his frown. "Trust me."

Grace didn't want to argue with Simon- really she didn't- but they had planned this special trip for Hazel. This was the place where memories were made and hopes went to die. A magical place for little girls and their dads to have a good time with their friends. Not a battlefield of forced fun and anxiety (Well, it wasn't supposed to be, that is.).

"It's not you I'm worried about. It's a crowded theme park vs my only child." The blonde folded his arms firmly.

"You're just stressing out- but today's about fun." Grace shook his shoulders gently. "Loosen up-"

He knocked her hands away, "You know, I'm starting to regret this trip since you keep arguing with me." 

"And now you're starting to sound like your mother-"

"Watch it." 

Grace was taken aback by the sudden harshness in his tone- and so was Hazel. The girl was hiding behind her dad's leg, face hidden from Grace's view. For the first time in a little while, it actually felt like she was about to face off against her own Simon. She quickly reminded herself of who this was.

Not her psychotic friend, but a frightened father who was only here for his child-

A sudden, frustrated cry dispelled the remaining tension that surrounded them. Their attention suddenly went back to Hazel. 

The little girl was pouting hard with tears in her eyes. "Stop your fightin'! Theres a world of cotton candy and spinning teacups just waiting for us to join it and then spend all our money at! So lets Procedure 420 and go in!"

Simon sighed, "You're right. You're right... I'm sorry..." 

His demeanor changed once more- quickly returning back to his old, less rigid self. He even managed a smile and patted Hazel's head affectionately. The little girl wiped her eyes and smiled widely at the attention. 

"Good. Now kiss, make-up, and marry Ms. Grace." Hazel said sweetly. 

Grace stifled a snort behind her hand. "How about a hug instead?" 

She opened her arms, but Simon stepped away from her quickly and took Hazel's hand instead. "No... Lets just go in." 

Grace frowned and lowered her arms to her sides. As she watched the pair go in ahead of her, she caught sight of the little one. The saddened look Hazel sent her made her heart ache in a few ways. With a heavy sigh, she trudged after them. 

"So much for the happiest place on Earth..."

Teacups came first. Grace stood out and watched the Laurents. The tension between her and Simon had seemingly transferred to the father and daughter. A silent conversation and a shared alertness of their situation kept them from enjoying themselves. Hazel looked ready to get off and go home the moment the ride started. 

The next two minutes seemed to drag by, and Grace didn't even bother with a picture. 

After that, time seemed to move slowly. 25 minutes in Disney felt like 25 hours. Everything felt like it was coated in a thick fog that Grace couldn't get away from. Her stomach felt like it was full of static as she took to watching the Laurents pass through the place like they wanted to die.

Even now, when they finally sat down and got a cotton candy to share, it felt hostile. Hazel looked as frustrated with the treat as her dad did. The whole ordeal made Grace feel sick, and guilty, and upset, and-

Anxious...

Cotton candy disgarded, the group moved on to a children's ride. One Hazel got to go on all by herself. The moment the adults were alone, Grace caught Simon's hand in hers. He tensed up, but she held it firmly. 

"Simon-" She tried, "I'm sorry..."

"Grace, I really don't feel like dealing with you right now..." Simon said, eyes focused on which cart Hazel was currently in. Grace could feel his racing pulse under her fingertips.

"Does your stomach feel like its full of static too...?" Grace muttered.

There was a pause...

"Since we walked in..." Simon admitted quietly. 

"I know you're trying to enjoy this for Hazel- but I also know this is uncomfortable for you too." She squeezed his hand gently, "I can't imagine what it's like to be agoraphobic with a kid- but I want to understand so we can enjoy this together."

"Then you have to understand why I make procedures in the first place..." Simon squeezed her hand back. "Hazel doesn't have anxiety like I do... I want her to get to enjoy things-"

"So you made codes so it feels more like a mission to her than a burden?" She surmised.

"God, its pathetic..." The man muttered, "And now look at her... She looks like she's in Hell-"

"She looks that way because we're fighting. Not because you're in Hell." Another gentle squeeze and she released his hand. "It's not ideal... But how about I buy you a drink?" 

"Grace- I haven't had a drink in years-" A particularly high drop on the kid's ride and Simon's hand found Grace's again, "I'm in. Lets find a beer cart..."

"It's Disney... That shouldn't be too hard."

The Ride finally came to a stop and Hazel jumped out. The moment she saw Simon and Grace holding her hands, her entire face lit up. It was as though she had been replaced by a whole new Hazel. One who was going to have the best time of her life, or Grace would die trying-

Which, according to Sober Simon's logic, was pretty high.

Their first stop of their unoffical 'new' start of Hazel's special trip was a restaurant. Hazel had ordered chicken (of the nugget variety) and a tall glass of lemonade. Simon and Grace were splitting a sandwich, but they each got their own beer to go with it. Grace could see the uncertainty on Simon's face as he stared at the drink. After an unsuccessful staring contest with the glass- he sipped it. 

And proceeded to nearly cough it all back up.

"I forgot how bitter this is..." He muttered, and Grace and Hazel bit back their laughter.

"Its an acquired taste." Grace shrugged, take a quick swing of her drink. "But you'll get used to it again."

Hazel eyed the bottle curiously. "Can I try some?"

"No, Hazel. Stick to your lemonade." Simon replied. Another sip, but less choking followed. 

Hazel folded her arms firmly. "If you don't like it then why drink it?"

"Because your dad needs to loosen up." Grace answered for Hazel. "So this can be the best trip ever!"

Hazel squinted suspiciously, but then shrugged her shoulders and shot her hand up for what Grace assumed was a high five. "Yes! Best trip ever!"

After a group high five, they returned to their lunch. The cloud had officially parted and it was time to have some fun.

The rest of the visit went by without any issue.

The bit of alcohol seemed to do the trick in rounding out Simon's edges and even Hazel had a spring in her step as she wound between the pairs' legs- pointing to so many places she wanted to go and princesses she wanted to hug. The little hedgehog was like a wind-up toy that had its key turned one too many times but neither of the adults could complain about that. She was smiling and having a good time and that's all they could have hoped for in light of their earlier fight.

The trio got to enjoy Splash Mountain, Small World (well- maybe not enjoy Small World. Simon almost punched an animatronic and Grace couldn't blame him), stopped once for t-shirts and more cotton candy, toured the castle, and were now in the middle of the Haunted Mansion. Simon and Grace were in the car second to the front, and Hazel was in front of them with another little girl. There were other families behind them, but they faded into the dark of the ride.

As far as Grace was concerned, it was just her and the Laurent family. Just them and the horribly fake ghosts that hung in the air and didn't startle Grace at all- she jumped when a cold hand touched hers, but relaxed when she saw it was only Simon. 

"Scared?" She teased. 

"No. Just bored." He shrugged, "This ride is lame."

"Careful. Constance Hatchaway might hear you and cause a procedure 972." A wink dotted her sentence, but she wasn't sure if Simon had seen it. His eyes were too full of sparkles.

"You were actually listening to protocol?" The joy in his voice made the first 25 minutes vanish from Grace's mind. 

"I told you I came prepared for this trip. That included brushing up on the idiosyncrasies... All of them." Simon's face fell suddenly and the sparkles disappeared. Grace felt a sinking weight settle into her stomach. She felt she had crossed a line again-

"I'm sorry... About earlier..." He muttered, ignoring a ghost as it flew passed his head. "I don't regret this trip and I'm sorry I said that-"

"Don't worry about it." Grace smiled and set her hand atop his. "Just buy me a drink later and we'll call it even..."

"Deal."

The sun was low in the sky by the time Hazel had run out of energy. The trio came away from the place with sore legs, sun burns, and matching t-shirts. Their energy was low, but their spirits were high as they all climbed back into the car with their overly expensive loot and blurry photos. 

"That was the best trip ever! Lets do this again next year!" Hazel giggled. 

A simultaneous "No!" from Simon and Grace answered her, but Hazel had already nodded off before she could hear it. The adults sighed in relief, having absolutely no energy left to argue. The rest of the drive back was done in silence. As was the unpacking of the car when they got back to their hotel room. 

No sooner had they unlocked the door did Grace's mother poke her head out from her room. "How did it go?" She whispered. 

"Fine. Great." Grace hummed, helping Simon lower a still sleeping Hazel gently onto one of the beds. 

"Fine, great?" Her mother echoed, "Not magical?"

"Maybe for Hazel, but I think we're a little too old for Disney." Simon replied, "I actually owe your daughter a drink now if you don't mind watching Hazel-"

The older woman smiled. "Not at all dear." Grace could see the gears in her mother's head turning. "Have fun, you two."

"Not too much fun." Grace shot back, and she caught Simon's wrist and pulled him from the room before the other woman could comment.

...

The Hotel's bar was nearly empty that evening with it being the off season. The duo ordered their drinks and found a spot in the bar's outdoor seating area. It was a beautiful spot with a fantastic view of a nearby beach. The serbert orange sun was just beginning to duck down below the horizon, bathing everything in an orange glow. 

"I could stare at that view for hours..." Grace mutteted, taking a sip of her Long Island Iced Tea. 

"Me too." Simon swirled his own drink around slowly. A rum and coke without ice. A sweet and bitter drink for a sweet and bitter man. 

"... You said it's been a while since you last drank." Grace started, leaning back in her chair. "Is that because of Hazel?" 

"No-" He sipped his drink. "Not really anyway... Just wanted a clearer head than what I had."

"What do you mean by that?" A pause, "If you don't mind me asking."

"I had a kid yeah, but I also didn't want to do anything that would make me act stupid." Another sip- this one was longer. "Besides- I'd been sneaking alcohol for years. I got sick of it after a while."

Grace nodded and took a gulp of her own drink, tossing pace into the wind, "Years, he says..."

"What's that supposed to mean? I used to do cool and rebellious shit." He puffed his chest a little, "I used to do parkour."

"Oh really?" The woman hid her smirk behind her glass. "What was that like?"

Simon blushed and hid behind his own drink "Not cool or rebellious at all... It was the only thing that got Hazel to sleep, okay?"

"Jumping off of shit onto other shit with a baby? That sounds cool and rebellious to me." Grace cracked up, "But seriously- since we're on the topic... Have you ever done anything outside of Hazel? Like gone out and had drinks with friends your own age?"

"Not since we dropped her off five minutes ago." A shrug and a gulp. "Honestly."

"That is the saddest thing I've ever heard." She teased, a familiar warm washing over her as she neared the end of her first drink. "I'm opening a tab after this. We're making up for lost time."

Simon smirked a little and finished off his drink. "Fine. But I'm only having one more."

One more, two more- who was counting? Not Grace. At some point the pair left the hotel, bought a 6 pack of beer from a nearby store and were now at the beach they had been watching from the Hotel. It wasn't too far. A five minute walk at most. Close enough that they weren't worried and far enough away that they could talk as loud as they wanted. 

"Okay- truth or dare." Grace snickered, dizzy from the alcohol but clear headed enough to remember what game they had been playing.

"Truth." Simon replied, voice so even he could pass for being sober. 

"Have you ever snuck into an R rated movie before?" 

"Nope. Truth or dare?" 

"Truth."

"Hmmm... Ever slept with anyone?"

The woman shook her head, "Does sharing a bed count?"

"I'd say so." 

"Then yes. A bunch of times." She smiled and sunk her toes in the sand. It felt cool against her sunburnt skin. "Truth or dare."

"Dare." 

"Finish off your drink." Part of that was the dare. The other part was so they could ditch the evidence before they went back to the hotel room. 

Simon finished off the last of his beer, per her instructions and pitched the empty can into a nearby trashcan. By then they were both dizzy and loose enough to feel relaxed finally. A stark contrast to how wound up they had been that morning. 

"Truth or dare?" Simon's voice brough Grace back to the present. 

"Dare." He handed her a sea shell. 

"See if you can skip this three times." Not exactly a dare, but Grace was never one to turn down a challenge.

She skipped it exactly once before it hit a rock and sunk onto the water. "Truth or dare?" 

"Truth." 

Grace returned back to their spot and sat down beside Simon. She took a moment to study him, trying to find someone she could ask about. There wasn't much he hadn't told her already- that he could remember that was. His whole world seemed centered around his child, and Hazel had always been an open book... She frowned, and thought a little harder. 

"Si... Have you ever been in love before?" She wasn't sure if she was asking as part of the game or not- but it was out there now. 

Simon looked away quickly and stared off at the horizon. He seemed deep in thought- and sad... Trying to find something in that deep field of stars that had gotten to far away from him. Grace looked away from him for a moment and began to look with him- the question long forgotten until-

"Yes."

At what point they had looked back at each other- Grace wasn't sure. Who kissed who first was something else she didn't know or entirely care about. Her eyes fluttered shut before she had the chance to really evaluate the situation. She was completely lost to it when Simon's arm wrapped her her hips and he pulled her closer. At the same time, her arms wrapped around his neck and she deepened the kiss.

It felt right to be this close. It felt right even when the logical side of her brain started screaming that it wasn't. They weren't exactly sober- or dating. Or anything that would constitute a guilt-free kiss that she was sure they'd regret at some point. 

Screw logic...

The kiss ended all too quickly though. They parted for air and Simon's hold on her let up. As much as she didn't want to leave his warmth just yet, she slid back to her spot in the sand. Neither of them spoke for a long time. It was Grace who broke the silence.

"... We can't tell my mom... Or Hazel."

Chapter Text

So much of who is person is is tied to the bed they wake up in... And who they wake up with apparently. When Grace awoke, it was dark and there was already a ringing in her head and a man already in bed with her. Simon, to be exact. The blonde had an arm draped around the woman and his head resting on her shoulder. It was warm- but not uncomfortably so.

There was no sign of Hazel on the bed or in the room from what she could tell. The room itself was dark, with only a sliver of light coming in from the blinds. The digital clock beside her red 2:00AM. Several hours after they had gone out for drinks... Try as she might- Grace couldn't recall Hazel leaving the room- or entering it herself for that matter... Come to think of it- all Grace really remembered was being on the beach with Simon, playing truth or dare, asking a way too personal question, kissing him- 

"Oh shit." Grace sat up in bed, wincing at the shot of pain that ran through the back of her eyes as she did. 

Simon groaned softly at the sudden jolt, but Grace paid him no mind. Her mind was clear enough that she had other things to worry about. Things that would have to be dealt with as soon as he woke up-

But then, her mind has begun racing- running after her own thoughts. Of how this Simon was her friend, they had a decent friendship going- he had a family outside of her. How this was supposed to be a friendly friend trip as friends. He had set boundries when it came to her- had already rejected her gently-

What will he say- DID he say something and I don't remember!? WHY DID WE KISS-

"Crap-" She could feel the weight of the situation already baring down on her- or maybe that was the impending hangover. She found herself laying back down before she could figure that much out. 

She thought of how her Simon was probably laughing at her from beyond the grave. 

No... My Simon would kill me for this...

Nausea settled into the pit of her stomach- right next to the guilt. She felt as though she had betrayed both Simons. The one she had loved once and the one she considered a friend- who considered her a friend! Not close, but enough that he came with her on this trip-

He came with for Hazel- not you.

Simon's- the real Simon's- arm wound back around Grace's hips carefully. He was still asleep, but even he looked just as troubled as Grace currently felt. He groaned softly, stirring just enough that Grace worried he would wake up.

He didn't.

Dark eyes stung as they finally fell shut. Grace could see the ghost of her ex-friend behind them. Taunting her over her guilt. Berating her for (possibly) losing another Simon over a lack of common sense. With a groan of her own, she pulled the plush hotel comforter over her head. It did little to hide her from the ghost only she could see. It certainly didn't stop him from following her into her forced sleep.

...

For a time, all she saw was the dark from behind her eyes. Little whisps of grey swirled around her occasionally, but for the most part her dream was empty. Not a soul other than her. 

The pain from her hangover had followed her in her sleep, along with another headache of hers.

"I knew you'd try to replace me." The blue-eyed monster snickered. 

Grace wrinkled her nose at the phantom. Her head still spun from the fading effects of the alcohol from the night before. She watched the illusion of a man step over to her casually- as if he were meant to be so close to her even if time and death kept them separated in the waking world.

"What are you talking about this time?" Grace muttered, "I thought I let you go-"

"You could never let me go, Grace." Her Simon's voice was proud- condescending. "That's your problem, isn't it?"

"I let you go a long time ago. The Train let me off and-"

"And what? You were a recluse until you found someone who happened to fit the theme for your fantasy and went for it..." He sneered bitterly, "You got your Simon and Hazel, even when they didn't want you-"

"You don't know shit!" The edge in Grace's voice startled her, "Just leave me alone!"

"I'm not around anymore. You're the one who keeps bringing me back, Grace." The dead man smirked, hands on his hips, 

"Thats not true." Grace scowled. 

"I would've thought you'd've stopped lying to me once you got me killed. Yet here we are."

"I'm not lying... Can you just leave me to worry in peace!?" Grace groaned, "Unlike you, I still have to deal with reality when I wake up-"

"The reality where you ruined things with another Simon?" He shook his head, "Which surprises me- didn't you say you didn't like kissing back when we were kids?"

Grace huffed. She felt colour rising to her face, but not from embarrassment. "I didn't like it when I kissed *you*..."

"So why did you kiss this one anyhow?" 

"I don't know- we were drinking and-"

"Is it because he looks like me?" He asked, head cocked to one side. "Is that why you did it?"

"What- Simon, no. It isn't." Grafe huffed, trying to turn away from him yet finding him everywhere she looked. "Move. Now."

He stepped out of her way and she walked further into the nothingness that surrounded them. 

"I'm just saying... You didn't want to lose him, so why risk it?" The phantom shrugged, "Unless-"

"For God's sake! It was just a drunk kiss! It's not like I got into bed with hi-" A pause, and she could see her former co-leader's smirk. "Get that smirk off of your face. I'm serious."

"While you're digging your grave, you might want to add that this technicality." The ghost propped himself up on a chair that wasn't there. 

"I'm not digging any more graves... I already had to dig yours." She sighed, looking off for a moment. "... So what do you think he'll say? Honestly?"

"How the Hell would I know?" The figment's tone was playful now. "If he's anything like me-"

"Trust me, he's not." Grace hummed, "Not yet anyhow..."

"Are you sure about that? If he isn't then what are you so damn worried about?"

"Because I was wrong about you for 8 years... Anything could happen at this point..."

"And? It just sounds like you're worried about losing *my* replacement over this." A hum, "Oh, how will life go on without him?" Bitter, sarcastic, jealous-

She was going to twist the knife further, "He's not your replacement-"

"Keep telling yourself that." A shrug, "It took you years to come out of your shell and it just so happened to be because of someone whose my mirror image. Just 'better'."

Teeth clanked together painfull as Grace set her jaw. "Are you just here to annoy me now?"

"Nah. I'm just a metaphor for your paranoia, if you haven't noticed." Another, louder hum. "Unless you want to admit you can't let me go and *thats* why I'm here."

"Its not. Not in this case." She picked at her skin. "I've gone over this too many times as is. I'm sick of thinking of it-" 

"Then just admit you're not over me and I'll go. You're afraid of losing your replacement family-"

"I'm afraid of hurting someone I love, okay!?" She turned and found no one. Just a voice barely hanging around her. Tears burned her eyes, even in dreams, and she wiped them away. "I love him... I love both of them- They're my friends-"

Nothing.

"I don't want to be the one to hurt them..."

 Grace awoke again, she felt uneasy. Not from a hangover or her visit with a ghost- but rather because of the eyes watching her as she stretched out her aching limbs. Those unreadable, silver-grey eyes of Simon Laurent... She rolled onto her side to avoid them.

"Hey." Came her muttered greeting. 

"Hey..." He echoed back, tone a little too stiff for Grace's liking. 

"So..."

"So."

"Are we going to talk about it..?" Simon, the good one, hummed. 

"About last night?" A nod- one that Grace couldn't see. "I think we have to..."

A silence fell between them, filled only by the quiet hum of cartoons coming from her parent's bedroom. If she had to guess, Hazel was the one who had put them on. 

"Do you remember going to-" She cut him off with a shake and hid her head. 

"I remember the beach. Not much after." She admitted. 

"Not much happened after... You told me not to tell your mom or Hazel. We went back and your parents had Hazel in their room so-" The blonde shrugged, "Now we're here."

"Did we talk at all?" She asked, sitting up slightly, "And how are you so coherent? Your tolerance should be lower than mine-"

"Truth? Most of my rum and cokes were 90% coke. 3 beers after that wasn't going to do me in." She smacked his arm before she could think. The tips of her ears felt hot. 

"What the heck, Simon!? I thought we were both too confident to realize what we were doing!" Grace bit back a smile. This was serious, after all. But the way Simon smiled at her-

"We were- honestly." He caught her hand and held it away from his arm. "Why are you so bent out of shape about this?" 

A pause- and Grace felt the blood run from her face. Never once had she considered this scenario- the one where Simon is absolutely fine with this because being kind and understanding was just the type of person he was (at times). The blood returned to her face at full force and she covered it with her free hand. 

"I thought you would be upset..." Grace muttered into her palm. 

"Upset?" He frowned, "Because we kissed?"

"Well- I don't know! You kinda rejected me before and we're supposed to just be friends and-" A soft laugh cut her off.

When she looked up, Simon's eyes were sparkling. "We *are* friends... The first the others had in a while... It'll take more than a drunk kiss to change that."

Relief should have washed over her. She should have been happy- maybe reply with a 'I'm glad' or a 'I'm glad we're friends-', but she couldn't bring herself to say any of that. She folded her legs under her and set her hands in her lap.

Her eyes burned as tears gathered behind them. She felt relief, anger, sadness, pain- it all swirled around her in a sickening pinwheel of emotions. Grace wanted to yell- and it startled her. She wanted to damn her own Simon down to Hell- and maybe this Simon too for some reason. Instead what came out was a quiet sob.

"H-hey! Whats wrong?" Simon set a warm hand on her shoulder and squeezed it gently. It did nothing to calm her.

"I was so worked up about this..." She admitted, "For nothing... Everytime I expect the worst from you, it never comes! I had it so in my head that you'd react how my Simon would have that I actually had a nightmare about-"

"Hey-" Simon set his hands atop of hers. His head was lowered this time. "I'm not your Simon- We've been over this."

"I know... But sometimes it feels like he's still around..." Grace turned her palms upward. She took in the size and shape of the hands covering her's. "I hate to think I haven't been able to let him go..."

Because that smug bastard *IS* wrong...

Simon set his other hand onto her shoulder- effectively trapping her on the bed with him. Her shoulders shook slightly as she tried to calm herself. It took some effort- but the tears eventually subsided and she was able to clear her eyes. Simon's lips were pressed into a thin line by them. Concern and hurt was present on his face.

"Can I ask you something...?" He asked. She nodded. "Do- do you keep me around because I remind you of him somehow?"

"Is it because he looks like me?"

Grace bit her lip and looked down. "I don't know..." The answer that had almost gotten her killed on the Train. The one that finally set her Simon off enough to *want* to kill her, after everything they had been through. 

But as always, this Simon surprised her. He reacted with a short nod and a hug. Warm and reassuring. "Its okay if you do-"

"No its not- I've gone out of my way to try and convince myself you're not him because I let him go- and I really like you-" He silenced her by pressing his forehead to hers. 

"It's okay if you do." He repeated, holding her tighter. "You mean a lot to me and Hazel and I can't tell you how much we appreciate having you around..." 

"Y-you could try-" She was teasing, but her voice was rough from crying. 

Grace could feel Simon smile. "You're my friend- you're Hazel's friend and you make me feel more normal than I have in a while- I mean, you actually got me on a plane and to Disney world. A year ago, I never would have done that-"

"I-is that right?" Her own smile was growing slowly. 

"Yes! And even if I can't do the same for you- I want to be able to help you the same way you help me-"

Wiping the last of her tears away, Grace finally snuggled into the hug. She rested her head on the man's shoulder tiredly. "Whenever ghost-boy isn't around, you do make me feel normal too..." 

"Is he ever not around?" Simon asked, and she nodded against his chest. "Was he around when we kissed?"

"You know- I'm starting to think he wasn't..." She smiled a little and finally hugged him back just as tight. "He only came around when the regret sank in..."

There was a break in the conversation, and they just sat there, holding one another quietly. Both of their hearts were racing loud enough that they could hear them. They melded together into a sort of lullaby, and Grace shut her eyes to listen better. 

"... He'd hate me, wouldn't he?" Simon hummed, "And my Hazel...?"

"Yeah... He'd see you as his replacement..." Grace replied, "But you're the superior version, so-"

She felt Simon laugh. It changed the beat of his heart and disrupted their lullaby- but in a good way. "I think I remember you said something about us being different once-"

"On the plane- you don't remember that?" 

"I was under the influence of a Xanax. I don't remember much of anything." A beat, "So, technically that makes us even... We've both been out of our minds when the other wasn't."

It was her turn to laugh.  "Fair enough- but next time we have a deep conversation, lets try to keep clear heads, okay?"

"This doesn't count?" Simon released her from the hug and held her out at arms distance. 

"I'm hungover and emotionally compromised. None of it counts." She teased, moving suddenly to tickle her friend's sides. 

The man blocked her hands, shooting her a 'Don't even think about it' look. What ensued was a tickle fight between friends. They laughed until their everything hurt and they had tears in their eyes and anything sad had been forgotten. Their romp ended with Grace on top, having successfully pinned Simon on his back. They both smiled at one another.

True to Simon's words, they felt normal. 

Happy. 

Alone.

Then the door flew open and their reality check named Hazel walked in. "Daddy, have you seen my- OH MY GOSH!" 

Grace felt like a deer in headlights. She probably looked like one too. She just stared at the little girl with an expression of shock, horror, and embarrassment on her face. It was safe to assume Simon had the same look- it was hard to tell with how he was covering his face. 

It was the same way Hazel had covered her face. The poor girl was feeling around for the door she had come from. "Oh gosh-!"

"H-Hazel, it's okay!" Simon finally spoke, sitting up quickly. "We were just playing-" 

"I can see that!" Hazel exclaimed, eyes still covered. "I just don't want to see it!"

Grace blushed, "No- Hazel. We weren't doing anything bad- honest."

"While I'm 100% okay with you two being together-" The girl was cut off by a wave of their hands.

"We're not together!" The pair exclaimed, both of their faces a dark red. "We're just friends!" 

Hazel kept her arms folded over her chest and her eyes snapped shut. Grace realized in that moment that their drunken kiss wasn't a threat to their relationship- but an angry Hazel was... Carefully, Grace slid off of Simon and sat at the edge of the bed.

"Hazel, come here." The girl didn't budge- so Grace had to drag her over to her. She gave the girl's nose, cheeks, and foreheads little kisses until Hazel opened her eyes again. "There we go... Now, can we talk about what you saw?"

"Are you and daddy a couple now?" Hazel snapped. 

"No- not yet." Grace said, "Its just not the right time-" 

Hazel smacked her palm against her forehead. "Why not!? Is there another man?"

Grace facepalmed. "Hazel- did my mom tell you to come in here and say this?"

"Yes- for a cookie... Answer the question."

"Well- technically I guess there is another man-" Grace muttered, "Metaphorically speaking- once he's gone-"

"I could help you kill him." Hazel offered so innocently. Grace didn't know if she should be frightened or if she should laugh. 

Instead, she scooped her friends up into a tight hug. "How about we just get some pancakes instead."

"Sounds good."

"I'm in."

Kiss and the Ghost forgotten, the trio scrambled off of the bed, grabbed their key card, and headed off to the continental breakfast downstairs. Hazel grabbed Grace and Simon's hands on the way out and held them tightly. Occasionally, the girl would pick up her legs and swung herself between them like the little monkey she was.

Chapter Text

The families' vacation in Florida had been the best trip Hazel had ever been on-

Well, it was the only trip she had ever been on. In all of her life, she couldn't rememeber ever going on a vacation. She never minded it, but now that she knew what she had been missing, she couldn't wait to go on another! 

"Are we going on another trip?" Hazel asked. 

Her dad had put her into the car one morning and they picked up Ms. Grace shortly after. Logic would tell her that the answer was "yes" or at the very least a strong "maybe". Either way- an outing with daddy and Ms. Grace was bound to be a good time. 

"You could say that." Her dad hummed, glancing at her in the rearview mirror. 

This made the child's heart rate increase instantly. She was practically buzzing. 'You could say that' definitely meant yes and it promised an adventure. Maybe one inspiring enough for a new chapter of Esmoroth! They had been lagging with their writing as of late. This could be-

"Oh no..." 

One glance out the window and Hazel's heart sank. She could see the horror that awaited them as they pulled into the parking lot. A fancy sign that read Becky's Salon in cursive letters hung on the door. It might as well have read Welcome to Hell, Hazel. 

Though Hazel had never been to a real salon, she knew others who had. Friends of hers with thicker hair than her had told her horror stories of having their hair pulled out of their heads and flattened with hot irons. Hazel had been lucky enough to avoid these places. When she was younger, an old neighbor would come and style her hair at home. Eventually, she taught Simon how to do Hazel's hair.

As she grew older, she requested that she get to do her own hair. Her dad said no initially. So they negotiated and agreed that her hair only be done for school and could be as wild and as crazy as she like for the rest of the time. That was the agreement. Those were the terms. There was *no* reason why they should be here right now!

'Don't panic, Hazel Laurent... Remember your training! First- Procedure 847- Nearest exit.'

The girl tried her car door, but it wouldn't budge. Her father had the child safety lock on. Hazel could see his smug expression in the mirror. She glared hard at the traitor known as Simon. 

'In the event that there is no exit, move on to Procedure 972 and create an exit!' 

There was nothing she could use to smash her way out- so she knew she would have to be clever. Once Ms. Grace opened her door, she knew she had at least a two second window to flee and make a mad dash somewhere else. With a deep breath, she watched the woman unlock her door and open it- freedom was within view!

With one more breath for courage, the girl undid her seatbelt and lept over the car's center console. She slipped between Ms. Grace and the open car door and bolted. 

"Simon! Hazels making a break for it!" Hazel heard Ms. Grace call out behind her, but she didn't dare turn around. 

One thing was for sure: Hazel was NOT going into that salon. 

Footsteps sounded close behind her. Sharp clanks from two sets of heels were also too close for comfort. Hazel peaked over her shoulder and found her dad, Ms. Grace, and another woman running after her. With a sharp gasp, she turned her head back around and kept running. As luck would have it, there was a nearby alleyway with several heavy garbage cans up ahead. 

Hazel easily slipped between them and hurried further down the dark passage, finally allowing herself to slow down slightly and catch her breath. Her lungs burned, but it was worth the pain. She was safe and there was *no* way anyone could follow her back here-

A clank got her attention. She turned just in time to see her dad landing a few feet away from her. He was smiling, but not in a nice dad way. It was more of a 'Nice try' type smile. She took a few steps back before bumping into the brickwall where the alley ended. 

"I forgot you did parkour..." She muttered, feeling around for something she could use as a distraction like in the movies.

She found nothing. 

'You just had to pick the cleanest dead-end alley, didn't you...?'

"Honey, I've been jumping over things long before you were born." Her dad shook his head. "Nice use of 972, but you're getting your hair done."

"But why!? Whats wrong with how we've been doing my hair!?" Hazel exclaimed, tears pricking the corners of her eyes.

"You're starting dance soon. Ms. Grace says all of other girls will have their hair up-" Not a good enough answer!

"Then I just won't do dance! I can do karate again-" Hazel felt her heart in her throat. Surely that was a fair compromise-

"Your hair was shorter when you did karate. You'd have to get it done anyhow-" Her dad kneeled before her and set a heavy hand on her shoulder. "Why are you getting so bent out of shape about this?"

Hazel frowned deeply and bowed her head. Her long hair fell over her face, shielding her from view. She didn't want him to see her cry, but she could already feel hot tears slide down her cheeks. Her nose sniffled when she tried to breathe. 

"Hazel-!?" Concern was in the man's voice. 

Simon's free hand pushed her shield away from her face moments later. The air around them felt cold against her face. "What's wrong...?"

There was no use lying or holding back. Hazel let out a loud wail and pushed her face into her dad's stomach. "I-its gonna hurt!"

"... What?" Her dad didn't sound concerned any longer, but he still wrapped her up in a tight hug. 

"M-Melissa a-and Ronda f-from school says it hurts a-and they're gonna b-burn my hair a-and pull it and-" She stopped to take a breath and wipe her eyes. They were clear long enough that she could see her dad's utterly amused expression.

"Hazel- thats different." Simon sighed. "You're not getting braids and I don't think we would *need* to straighten your hair... Maybe brush it out-"

Hazel winced at the thought."B-but brushing is gonna hurt!"

"No its not. Your hair is mostly like mine-"

"N-no it isn't!" She was right and they both knew it.

Her dad's hair was straight as a pin and couldn't hold a curl for love. Hazel's was bouncy and curly. Maybe in colour it was like his, but-

"No- Hazel. Like texture." He sighed, "Your hair is closer to mine than your friends and Ms. Grace-"

There was that name again... Ms. Grace. 

It had been her idea to come here in the first place. And it was all in the name of *her* dance class. Come to think of it- a lot of things had been her idea. Hazel balled up her little fists and stepped away from her dad. 

"Did Ms. Grace tell you that so she could trick you into taking me to a salon!?" She pointed an accusing finger at the man's chest. 

"What? No!" Her dad frowned and gently knocked her hand away. "You needed a haircut anyway... Maybe a deep condition too."

"I do not!" She stamped her hands on her hips. "I betcha Ms. Grace said I did!"

"Now you're just talking crazy." Her dad scooped her up before she had time to fight him off. "I thought you liked Ms. Grace-"

"That was before!" Hazel kicked and wiggled but still couldn't break free. "My hair was perfectly fine before-"

"You still have sand in it from our trip-" She narrowly avoided punching her dad in the jaw.

"A trip Ms. Grace took us on!" She argued. 

"Look, Hazel. If I can survive getting on a plane and going to Disneyworld, I think you can survive a haircut." More lies. But there was no getting away now.

"... I'm going to hold your hand and if it hurts, I'm going to squeeze it REALLY hard!"

"Deal."

The salon smelt overwhelmingly like coconut oil and other fancy haircare products. The comfy waiting chairs felt like a pile of rocks under Hazel as she waited to face her doom. As her dad and Ms. Grace flipped through a book of children's hair styles, she considered making another run for it-

"Hazel Laurent?" No time. The Devil had arrived... She was dressed as a seemingly innocent woman.

The woman had thick, maroon braids arranged in a neat bun at the top of her hair. Her edges were slicked down and arranged in perfect swirls. Hazel would never admit it, but she thought the style looked very pretty and for a moment she wondered what she would look like with brai-

'Remember what Ronda said... They hurt.'

Her mood soured instantly, but she stood up and trudged over to the woman. "I'm Hazel Laurent..." She muttered.

The woman smiled kindly and adjusted her big purple glasses. "So you are. Well, my name is Rebecca and I'll be your stylist today-"

"Skip the formalities. Lets get this over with." Hazel huffed, heading over to the nearest station and crawling into the big seat. If they were going to do this, then she should at least get to pick where she sat.

"Hazel! Behave." Her dad snapped, but she pretended not to hear him.

She heard Rebecca laugh. "Its fine, Mr. Laurent. I've dealt with bigger pains in the ass before." 

Hazel wrinkled her nose at the swear word, but said nothing. She was still pretending to be ignoring the grown ups. To busy herself, she snatched up a small hand mirror and looked into it.

She noted her nose- it looked the same as her dad's at some angles and her eyes were the same shape as his but a different colour. Like her eyes, her cheeks were round and red from crying. She scowled at it and tilted the mirror up to her head. Her fluffy hair practically filled the whole mirror! It broke her heart just thinking about having to part with it so soon-

"Whatcha looking at?" Hazel nearly jumped out of her skin but found it was only Rebecca. 

"My hair. One last time." Hazel pouted, setting the mirror aside. "Before you rip it out and make it ugly."

"I wouldn't dream of doing that." Rebecca hummed. She then draped a cape around Hazel's shoulders. "I don't think your daddy would let me anyhow."

"He would... He's the one who usually does my hair." Hazel huffed.

"And I can see he does a good job taking care of it too." Rebecca fluffed Hazel's hair. "But there's nothing wrong with having a professional work on it every once in a while."

"Yes there is." Hazel muttered. Rebecca only smiled at her and lead her to a big shampoo bowl and helped her into the chair. 

The lip of the bowl had a bit of padding, but it still hurt Hazel's neck as she laid back. Her hair was rinsed and a thick, honey like shampoo was put in her hair. It smelt nice, like her soap at home, but even that didn't life the girl's spirits. Rebecca scrubbed the soap into her hair and rinsed it out. Like any hair washing, this was followed by conditioner. Only this conditioner came in two bottles. A watery solution and a thick paste. It was left on Hazel's hair for a few minutes, but to the child it felt like an eternity had passed before she was brought back to the chair. 

Her dad was waiting for her when she got back. Without a word, she climbed into her hair and took his hand. He squeezed her hand gently.  "Ready?"

"Absolutely not."

Rebecca came back moments later with some styling products in her hands. She arranged them neatly on her work station then turned to Simon. "So how short is she going today?"

"Still long enough that it can fit back in a bun." Hazel gave a warning squeeze, but her dad didn't seem to notice. "Maybe bangs?"

Hazel pouted. "Maybe you should stop talking... Its my hair and I say we do the bare minimum."

The adults exchanged glances and Rebecca got to work without another work. She clipped Hazel's hair off into sections and dried it as she brushed it. Soon Hazel wild nest was smooth and tangle free. It fell like a waterfall against the back of the chair... It was much longer than Hazel had realized. 

Once again, Rebecca clipped the hair off into sections and picked up her scissors. Hazel's heart lept into her throat and she squeezed her dad's hand tightly. "It hurts!" She whined. 

"She hasn't cut it yet..." Simon said, "Also your hair isn't alive. It wouldn't hurt you if she did."

"More lies!" Hazel groaned, but she knew he was right.

She snapped her eyes shut and whimpered at the sound of the first cut. While she couldn't see how much came off, it felt like a lot. She was beginning to pant from the anxiety. Holding her dad's hand wasn't enough anymore. She wanted to run when-

"Hey. You're doing great." Ms. Grace's voice sounded in her ear, followed by her hand covering Hazel's free one. 

Hazel peaked an eye at the woman. Her smile was warm and comforting... A chunk of yellow hair fell on their connected hands and Hazel shut her eyes again. She no longer felt comforted. She felt weighed down by her hair- but her dad and Ms. Grace's hands. She sat in a constant state of anticipation for a pain that might not come when-

"All done." Rebecca announced, and Hazel felt her rub a few products into her hair and fluff it. 

Hazel cracked an eye- then both opened wide as she caught a glimpse of herself. Her hair fell just beyond her shoulders now, with a side bang framing her face. It was brushed straight back and the product made it look shiny. She looked familiar to herself now- now that she could see her face better without hair in front of it. 

A tiny smile wormed its way onto her face. 

"We finally got a smile out of you." Rebecca laughed and she lowered the chair and took Hazel's cape. 

The girl stood on shaking legs and flipped her hair about. It felt lighter. Freeing even. It would definitely go up in a bun without issue now. And it didn't even hurt!

Her smile grew a little at the thought. 

"So how was your first salon visit, Hazel?" Ms. Grace asked, directing her out of the way as her dad paid for the cut and some products. 

"It was fine." Hazel half-lied. 

She then hurried over to her dad's side and took the hair product back from him. She hugged it to her chest like a shield and stumbled outside. Today's adventure wasn't the one she had been expecting, but it was still a first and she was glad it was over. It even gave her a new idea for a chapter of Esmoroth:

The Betrayal of Lady Gracie. 

Chapter Text

"The way she moved so freely- so confident... It made him fear how intimate this dance was to her. It made him feel like he was invading her space but he couldn't look away either.

He had seen her vulnerable before and he had seen her become anxious with their first interactions; he still thinks how funny it is that their friendship started-"

"Daddy! Put down your book and watch me!"

Simon glanced up quickly from his tablet. He found his only child proud perched on their coffee table. Her tamed hair was back in a high bun with a blue ribbon. It perfectly matched the skirt of her leotard... And it went well with the cat hair on her black top and the army printed dance bag she had on her shoulder.

All in all, she looked beautiful and he knew that she knew it.

"I'm watching- But what am I watching?" Simon asked.

The little girl stuck her foot out just as proud as she stood- even with that little wobble. "I'm practicing for Ms. Grace's dance class. I'm going to be so good, I'll never have to go back!"

The man frowned and set his tablet on the edge of the table. If not for it's constant display of the date and time, he would have forgotten all about Hazel's prepaid dance lessons tonight. Usually Hazel talked his ear off about important events up until the date, but she was abnormally quiet about this ever since her haircut about a week ago. 

Now, Simon wasn't a fool by any means. He knew his daughter was unhappy about something and had tried unsuccessfully to console her and give her her space when needed. He had been at wits end until the night before when he received a calander notification... And later when Hazel merrily spun into his bedroom at 3am to remind him. Whatever had caused her good mood was- suspicious.

As suspicious as Hazel's little brown eyes were as she nudged his tablet with her foot.

"What were you reading?" She asked, "Is it something for Esmoroth?" 

"No. Not Esmoroth- just some light reading." 

Hazel swiped his tablet before he had a chance. She scanned it over curiously. Her eyebrows knitted together, "This isn't light reading- Are you working on another book without me!?"

The tablet was all but yanked out of her tiny hands, "Hazel, as my co-author, you'd be happy to know that I'd never start a new book without your approval. Even if it was work related."

"You're a cashier. Its never work related!" Hazel argued.

Simon bit back a smile. Even when she was interrogating him without probable suspicion, she was still the most adorable girl on the planet. "I'm a cashier so you can eat... But if things go well, one day we could be authors instead-"

"You say 'we' like I'm gonna be one with you." The wind out of her sails, the little dancer tossed herself down next to her father. 

He frowned. It killed him to see his girl so defeated and not know why. "... Will you tell me whats wrong, Hazel?" 

"Procedure 275..."

"Hazel, I'm your father. You can't use a procedure against me-"

Hazel wrinkled her nose and rose a slender eyebrow. "Are you pulling ranks on me?" 

Simon's eyes widened. Never had his sweet child talked back to him- in rapid succession. "As it stands, yes." 

The girl's frown darkened and she crumpled up onto herself. Her blue outfit looked more grey than anything. Like she was dressed in storm clouds. It hurt to see. It hurt even more when he tried to rest his hand on her shoulder and she shrugged it off. 

"Hazel? Talk to me." Simon pulled the girl onto his lap. 

"You'd know whats wrong if you read my section of chapter 6... But you haven't... Cause we don't write anymore-" 

Simon was about to reply, but stopped and mulled that sentence over. With the vacation, the Laurents had taken a hiatus with their writing on order to focus on preparing. They had more than enough material to work with that the time and didn't think much of it. The trip itself provided the perfect excuse to take even more time off from the book. But once they got home they had been so focused on getting back to normal and preparing Hazel for dance that-

"Oh no..." 

"Oh yes." Her frown almost looked painful now. 

"Hazel, I'm sorry- with everything going on, I lost track of time." Simon offered her a gentle hug. "But I promise I'll read your new chapter and we'll do edits for it together. Okay?"

That seemed to perk the girl up. "C-can we work on it now? Instead of danc-"

"No- Its prepaid... Otherwise I'd say yes-" And that dampened her spirits once more. "Tonight. I promi-"

A quick glance at the clock told him they were already late for dance. He didn't give Hazel time to protest as he picked her and her bag up and whisked her out the door... It felt like he was carrying a brick instead of his little ball of sunshine.

The other girls looked a little older than Hazel. They had all branched off into their own groups and whispered quietly to one another as Simon directed Hazel in. At first they seemed to be looking at Hazel, but one glance to the parent section and Simon realized he was the one who stood out in the crowd. 

"I'm going to go be socially awkward with the other moms." He muttered before planting a quick kiss on Hazel's cheek. "You'll do great."

"I don't need your pity, father." Hazel huffed, "... That's a line from chapter 6... Which you *didn't* read."

"I said I would lat-" 

The door flew open, effectively cutting him off. The arrival of the dance instructors kept him quiet. A beautiful freckled face red head who Simon hated already and the stunning woman of the hour: Ms. Grace. The pair wore matching white dance outfits and their hair had been done up into high ponytails. Against the pale grey walls of the studio, they seemed to be glowing in a light of their own. 

And across the room from them- the Laurents were like two black holes of miserable and angst. 

"They look like movie stars." Hazel grumbled under her breath. 

Simon gave the girl a little nudge. "You do too-"

"I look stupid!" She growled, "Buns and skirts and pretty hair aren't for me... I don't know why I ever wanted to be in this stupid-"

Hazel's little face was pinched up and frustrated. Her eyes were filled with hurt and desperation and tears that mirrored Simon's own. She had the front hem of her skirt twisted up between her little hands. A section of bang that didn't fit back into her bun slipped down in front of her face.

Her frustration tormented him. He didn't understand it perfectly but he knew it was hurting her more than she could handle. She needed her dad more than she needed dance lessons right now. 

"Hazel, you look beautiful..." He gave her a tight hug. "You look like your mother..."

"I-I do...?" The girl sniffled, burying her face in his chest. "But you don't remember her..."

A pang of pain ran straight through his heart, but he ignored it. "I remember I loved her and she made me happy everytime I saw her smile like you do... I'd do anything just to see you smile. You know that, right?"

"I-I think so." Another sniffle. "But you changed so I don't know... You made me sleep in a different hotel room, and get my hair cut, and take dance lessons, a-and we don't work on our book anymore-"

By then, the other girls had all gone to start their stretches. No one seemed to notice Hazel hadn't joined them yet. No one except for Grace, who sent a concerned wave Simon's way. He shook his head and she frowned. His attention returned to Hazel shortly thereafter.

"If you want to leave right now and go home, we can." He tilted her tiny chin up and brushed her hair out of the way. Some of the darkness had cleared up, and her tears looked like stars. 

"Y-you mean it?" A nod.

"Just name the procedure and we're gone." Simon bonked their foreheads together gently. 

"S-so does this mean you're not changing for Ms. Grace's approval?" If a record scratch was a person, it would be Simon Laurent.

His face felt beyond hot. "What- and I'm just trying to follow along here- gave you that idea!?"  

"I gave you a list of things." Hazel pouted, "And they all connected back to Ms. Grace!"

"Hazel, when we get home we're having a serious talk about your analyzing skills and then we're working on Esmoroth..."

"You don't know- maybe she's a witch who cast a spell on you!" Hazel replied.

"Hazel, she'd have to cast pretty high to take me down." For some reason- that seemed to snap Hazel out of whatever funk she had been in. "So are we going or-"

Hazel dashed off towards the others before Simon could get a clear answer. He found he didn't need one. Her smile was back and that's all he wanted. Tossing a friendly wave over go Grace, he took Hazel's bag and walked off to join the other mothers on the bench.

None of them seemed to notice him, and for that he was thankful. Simon wanted nothing more than to focus on Hazel- but then something else took his attention. An old wire bound book stuck out from Hazel's bag. He instantly recognized it as their manuscript.

... Hazel wouldn't mind if I catch up... They're just stretching right now- Its not prying if we wrote it together-

With that at the forefront of his mind, he took the book carefully in hand and flipped to the latest chapter-

The Betrayal of Lady Gracie

(Not beta read)

"... Way to be subtle, Hazel."

Across the way, he was almost certain he saw Hazel's smile brighten.

...

To say Hazel's performance was good would be- an outright lie. While the smallest Laurent was skilled and agile on the ways of parkour, ballet seemed to be a step backwards. She wobbled when she couldn't use her whole foot for stability and her leaping was better suited for large distances- but it was cute and she seemed to have fun. 

When class was over and the others had gone, Hazel came bounding back to her father and wrapped her arms tightly around him, "That was so fun!" 

"You did great, honey." A lie if ever he told one, "Have you changed your mind about dance?"

"Ask me this time next week." Hazel said matter-of-fact, "I just want to work on our book now."

"Okay, okay. We're leaving-"

He was all but dragged from his seat and pulled out of the room by his eager child. Her strength was almost frightening for someone so small. It felt like his arm was almost ripped out of its socket- okay. Not really, but his child was very strong and he was proud for it. She was also happy again and that made things better-

She halted suddenly and Simon instantly expected the worst.

"Wait! Where's my bag!?" Hazel gasped, "Our book is in there! We can't work without it-"

A sigh of relief left him, "I left it back in the studio. Let me grab it." She let him go without a fuss and didn't even insist on coming with him. That was her silent way of saying 'hurry back!'

With a curt nod, the blonde raced back to the studio (only a few feet for him, but who knows how many for Hazel.). The lights in the room had been dimmed by then, with a thin spotlight coming down from the ceiling. It was just enough light that Simon still spotted the bag quickly from its spot on the bench. 

He moved towards it, but something caught his eye before he made it very far. A brilliant flash of white as a figure twirled under the spotlight gracefully. Simon instantly recognized her as his friend.The pale fabric of her dress flickered like a thousand stars as if moved so fluidly with her. Years of hard work and dedication showed in every turn, every twist and leap as the dancer moved along to unheard music. It was absolutely stunning. 

Now, Simon had seen her at what he now considered her worst. In the beginning she had been so awkward around him. At times it seemed he would never be able to separate her true personality from the memory of her deceased friend- but here- she had changed before his eyes. She was doing what she loved when no one was watching and didn't hold back... He found it admirable. 

Then again, he found many things about her to be admirable. Grace had been his first friend in years- the first person to ever get him on a plane and go on a vacation, the first non-family member he had ever trusted with Hazel... Sure she was a mess and perhaps a little crazy, but that wasn't all a bad thing. He liked that about her. 

It was her crazy ramblings that got them to be friends in the first place. And at times he thought crazy things as well. Like maybe it was time to let someone in, not just as a friend, but as someone to love. Time to take the love that he had kept locked in for so long and give it to someone like that ballerina who was dancing in front of him-

For a moment the man felt his heart still in his chest and a soft blush painted his face. When he remembered himself, he pressed himself quietly against the wall and hurried the rest of the way to the bag... He didn't want to be the one to interrupt such a beautiful performance and he didn't want to deal with these feelings now. 

Not now.

Not when Hazel needed help figuring out her own feelings for life in general.

No matter what, she would always come first.

With the bag in hand, it was a quick and quiet trip back to the door and over to Hazel. By then his blush had vanished. 

"Took you long enough." Hazel said, "What took you so long?"

"Got distracted." He admitted as he handed her her bag.

"Thats fine." Simon smiled faintly down at his forgiving child and ruffled her hair back into its usual messy style. 

"Come on... I've got some ideas for your Lady Gracie chapter." 

Chapter Text

The rest of the week past by in a daze for Grace. Work was mundane as ever on Friday, with nothing but warm-ups and dance routine practices. The girls were getting the hang of the dance so quickly that they hardly needed Grace's help other than in a few places. This left the instructor with nothing to do but watch, take notes, and occasionally gossip with the teacher's aids. 

"I think Ms. Tiffany's group has an honest shot this year." Her co-teached Jillian?  said. "Don't you think so Grace?"

Whatever her name was, she was a deeply tanned skinned, freckle faced Irish woman with stupidly red hair and above all was a Grade-A pain in the ass. Even as a co-lead, she was a year older than Grace and acted as though that meant she had more experience in dance... Talking to her was like being pecked to death by a chicken.

Espeically whenever she brought up Ms. Tiffany- an up and coming performer and instructor who performed with the Rockettes one year yet couldn't do it again to save her life. The same could be said about her teaching. Compared to Grace's group- those girls didn't stand a chance.

Still... It paid to make nice with potential competition. 

"Yeah- a real shot." Grace grunted, lying right through her teeth. "They've improved so much!"

"I know! Its so inspiring!" Lillian? Giggled, her crooked bottom teeth flashing as she did. It took every muscle in Grace's face not to roll her eyes. "I hear they're coming into class this Saturday for extra practice- they're so committed! What about your girls?" 

Grace ground her teeth together. Despite the sugary sweet attitude of the other woman- she knew she was being baited. Answer truthfully, and the rest of the teachers would whisper about how 'unprepared' and 'uncommitted' her class was. Lie then get found out and she'd be labled as 'desperate'... But tell a half truth and-

"You know, we totally planned to come in on Saturday, but something came up." She was all but seething behind a clenched jaw, but she was sure Millie? Hadn't noticed. "A male something."

"Oh my goodness! Grace Monroe finally going on a date!?" BILLIE! HER NAME WAS BILLIE! Exclaimed. Her eyes were filled with stars and Grace could practically see smoke coming out of her nose. "I want to hear everything!"

Finally- some gossip that would get her some credit around this place... "Its no big deal. His daughter is enrolling in my class-"

"He has kids!? Girl, you need to get on that!" The woman clasped both of her hands around Grace's, "Your biological clock is ticking!"

You sound like my mother, you redheaded *freak*! "I know, I know. I think this might be the one- he's super nice and a great dad!"

On the outside, Grace was smiling- on the inside she was ripping her hair out. That would keep the ladies out of her hair for a bit- at least when it came to bothering her about the competitions they had coming up. If the 'date' went well enough, she could stretch that story right up until after the first competition was over. 

Just some storytelling... Easy.

"Do you have an outfit picked out yet?" Scratch that easy part. This was an investment.

"Um- I was thinking-" Grace didn't have time to finish before a phone was being shoved in her face. 

"Text the girls! We have to get you the perfect outfit for your date!" She all but shrieked, rushing over to the teachers' hooks to grab her bag.

"Aww- you *really* don't have to do that-" The smile she wore was so forced it physically hurt."

"Class is almost over, and you need all the help you can get!" The woman dashed from the studio. Grace could hear her stomping noisily down the hall like she was off to tell the other's the British were coming...

"Dumb goofy bitch..." 

The week had been going by so quickly- yet Friday was starting to feel as though it would go on forever...

It seemed that every Friday stretched on forever since that fateful day... Though perhaps that had something to do with the company Grace chose. With Simon and Hazel, she never wanted the days to end- each new adventure had been wonderful- but things were tense now. Every day of radio silence brought her nothing but anxiety. The days wore on like that, and they stretched even longer with her current running buddy-

"Grace? You okay?" 

Grace snapped to attention. She found herself face to face with *Billie*, with an armful of hulahoops from the day's warm-up activity. Though class had let out a half hour earlier, clean up had yet to be completed. This was partially due to Grace's inability to focus for more than two seconds. Her mind always wandered back to her latest encounters with Simon and his child... There was tension building and she could feel it. 

"I'm fine. Just in my own head." Brown eyes rolled in a circle in her head. 

Her safe, private head that was already too crowded to hold her. While it seemed Whats-His-Face had been evicted, several new voices took his place. Some were hers, others were Hazels'. Which one, she couldn't tell. Their arguments sounded too similar at this point. 

"Graaaaace! Stay with me." Several snaps of Billie's fingers drew Grace from her thoughts.

"I'm fine- just thinking!" Grace groaned, "God, Is that a crime?"

"It is if you keep leaving me with all of the clean up." Billie huffed. 

"... Sorry..." She had wanted to leave it at that.

In the back of her mind, where a small space was left, she made a note to contact her therapist later. Being quietly trapped in the Void of her mind and having no one notice was one thing. But when others took notice- others who didn't know her situation- that made her uncomfortable. This wasn't her parents or a trusted friend who knew of her struggles. This was a co-worker. 

A near perfect stranger. 

"Whats eating you?" An annoying, near perfect stranger. 

"None of your damn buisness..." A huff of her own and Grace returned to her task of- sweeping the floor apparently. 

"Is it about your mystery man? Is he that blonde that was in here for Tuesday's class?" 

Grace gripped the handle of the broom tightly and bowed her head. Oh how she wished she could bash in that stupid redhead for being so damn nosey all the time- but then again, she was already doing time for mistakes made by another in another lifetime. The last thing she needed was another sentence...

"Yeah, that's him." She muttered, swinging the broom harder than necessary. 

"Having trouble with him?" The raise of Billie's eyebrow was practically audible. 

A pause... While she didn't plan to reply to Billie, Grace wanted to know what answer she would give herself. On one hand, Hazel was clearly upset and that meant Simon was most likely upset. So in a way, she *did* have trouble with him... But on the other hand, they themselves weren't fighting with one another as far as she was concerned. They were just taking a break for adventuring for Hazel's sake.

Grace wouldn't consider that 'trouble'. It was most of a silent agreement between friends...

"Its kinda private, Bill." 

Silence. One that lasted far too long for Grace's liking. She set the broom against the wall and looked up finally. Billie was looking down, typing quietly into her phone. The lack of attention made Grace feel comfortable... But it didn't last. After only a few seconds, Billie looked up again. 

"Wanna head out? You look like you could use a drink."

"I don't really feel like going out..." A disgarded hulahoop was kicked out of the way by Grace, "But thanks for the offer."

"Come on. One drink won't kill you." Billie insisted, "It might help clear your head."

That was something Grace needed more than anything. A clear space to store her thoughts... She wasn't going to get that from one night of drinking with a co-worker, but Billie was right. It wasn't going to kill her to go out now while she wasn't in therapy... 

At least, she hoped it didn't.

Against her better judgment- Grace nodded. She needed a night of no thinking and of no Hazel or Simon...

She couldn't think of a more painful way to waste an evening. 

"Fine- Just let me make a call real quick." Grace said at last.

Grace grabbed her bag and hurried off. Barely missing Billie's "Okay, just don't take too long!" As she went. She sped walked the rest of the way to a private section of the studio: The Archive Room.

A room dedicated to housing every sign-up sheet, event flyer, parent info, complaint sheet, and routine guide that had ever entered the building. It also had an old VHS player for movie days. It was a private mess that only Grace ever seemed brave enough to venture into... Much like her own mind. 

She situated herself onto a stack of boxes with a throne like wall of papers around it. Her eyes closed for a moment, just enough time to send her hurtling back years and miles into the past. The Archive Room became her changing room. The boxes were her throne. She was alone again... 

A deep breath was drawn and suddenly she was at work again. Years later with her phone in hand. She remembered a time when that was harder for her to do. When her trips back in time would last much longer than a breath and when her hand would shake whenever she'd dial in her therapist's number.

Shirley Smith #180-223-9041

There was a time when she couldn't bring the phone to her ear- let alone listen for when the call would flip over... It took 3 rings before it flipped, just like before. Shirley never missed any of Grace's calls. She was like a mother Grace could carry around in her pocket...

They had seen a lot of each other in Grace's early days of freedom. It had been too long since they last spoke. Both professional and friendly terms. Grace wondered which Shirley would be answering the phone today. Her therapist or a friend- she needed both right now.

"Shirley Smith. What can I do for you today, Gracie?" A sweet, motherly voice drifted through the phone and took its place right amongst the papers.

"Hey Shirl- I was wondering if I could set up an appointment." Grace bounced her foot silently.

Her hands might not have been shaking, but her body was antsy. She had thought all of this was over a long time ago- yet here she was. Not at the same place, but still somewhere she didn't want to be... There was no number to tell her when she could stop. The Train didn't bother to give you one for any troubles it caused.

"Sure thing, baby girl." Shirley said, "What days are you available, sweetie? I've got an opening for Monday at 2- or 6... Or I have a-"

"Just whenever you're available next. Any time works for me." Grace cut in, "I just- need somebody to talk to."

"I've got time now- or did you need to speak in person?" Shirley asked.

"In person."

It was irresponsible, but she needed actual contact. Another human who could keep her out of her brain while her usual humans were away from her. A phone was convenient, but an eyestraining screen could only keep her still for so long... Even now, she had been gone long enough that she hadn't heard Shirley give her a date or register when she texted her the details. 

When Shirley hung up, Grace entered the date into her calender and allowed herself to grimace at how empty the pages looked. She added to them.

Fri Now- Calm the Hell down!

Fri Now- Things will be okay!

Fri Now- You got this!

Sat 6:45- Therapy

With a satisfied hum, she pocketed her phone and went to join Billie.

The club was crowded, the music was trashy, but the drinks kept coming and Grace could barely hear Billie. So that was a plus in her mind. She was halfway through a rum and coke- fully liquored unlike how a certain someone took his. A sweet smile crossed her face at the thought. 

She was about to take another sip when her co-worker gave her arm a tug. 

"Okay. I found his Facebook-"

Grace coughed as her drink went down funny. Fond memories associated with the drink was instantly replaced by a burn in her nose and throat. "W-what?"

"I found his Facebook and did some digging..." Billie casually shrugged her shoulder as if she hadn't just admitted to cyberstalking Grace's potential boyfriend. "Simon Laurent, right? I saw his name on the parent roster." 

Grace's surprise turned to disgust. "That is so creepy! You can't just-" The near blinding phonescreen was shoved into Grace's face.

"Come on. You never thought to look him up?" 

As a matter of fact- the thought never crossed Grace's mind. Simon had always been such a private person in her mind. She wouldn't have even considered him to have any form of social media- Maybe an inactive MySpace but nothing more. Not that she'd ever tell Billie that. 

In fact: She didn't have to tell Billie *ANYTHING* she didn't want to. 

Instead Grace shoved the phone out of her face and rolled her eyes. "Of course I have. I just didn't because I'm not a stalker-"

In the back of her mind, she could practically hear Simon's- the real one and not the ghost- laughter over that statement. Given how their friendship started and all. It was a miracle he let her stick around long enough to hear it. His laugh was deep but geuine no matter what had happened to cause it. That laugh somehow managed to warm her even if it was just a memory...

Grace felt a faint red dust her cheeks, but hid it behind her glass before Billie could detect it... Luckily, the woman seemed to invested in her stalking to notice.

"Come on. You've gotta be a little curious." Billie hummed between scrolling. "He is cute-"

"Excuse you, but I know how respect someone's privacy. Unlike some people." Billie rolled her eyes and flicked Grace's arm before returning to her phone.

There was a break in the conversation, and Grace felt she may have struck a nerve in her companion. She felt a little smug, but that was quickly overwhelmed with curiosity over what Billie was looking so intently at. 

"Okay, he's 25- interested in woman, and his middle name is Julius." Green eyes narrowed, "He was in his church's worship band at one point and he does parkour-"

Grace rolled her eyes for the third time that day. "Yeah, most of that I know- But the middle name and worship band bit is interesting... Come on, Bill. Hit me with something good if you're gonna stalk him!"

"Interested in a picture of him with a full beard and a toddler on his hip...?"

"Absolutely. Hand that shit over." 

Respecting another's privacy was one thing- but refusing a picture of that description was like refusing to see a photo of a cute puppy. And even Grace wasn't that heartless... She took the phone without shame and looked at the picture without an ounce of resistance. And for once in her life, she didn't regret it. 

The photo had been taken several years earlier, when Hazel looked to be a year old. The pair were standing in a pumpkin patch, dawning matching "Boo or Die!" Sweaters. Hazel looked utterly adorable with her hair pulled up into fluffy pigtails and her baby jeans peaking out from under her sweater. A look of pure adoration was etched on her chubby face as she smiled at her daddy. 

The man looked back at her with the same kind of love showing through his tired eyes. He looked more mature than Grace had ever seen him. As a new father who had yet to relax into his role would look. Still, he looked happy at the very least. And handsome in a rugged sort of way. All in all, it was a stunning photo and Grace had half a mind to screenshot it and send it to herself. 

"God, he looks great like that..." He looked like he had always been meant to have Hazel with him. Even in a photo their bond was clear as day and it made her smile-...

But then reality sunk back in for her. That bond between father and daughter was troubled right now. Grace could feel that static in the air ever since they left Rebecca's salon... The tension nearly knocked her on her ass when she walked into her own studio for Hazel's first class! There was trouble in paradise and instinct told her it was time to step back. For now.

So with a heavy heart, she eventually parted with the phone and handed it back to Billie. 

"Spill. You look distressed." Billie said, tucking her phone away quickly. 

"Not telling you shit." The woman frowned deeply and turned back to her drink. "You're not my therapist." 

"I can still ask." Billie huffed, "Just talk outloud and I'll overhear it-"

Grace slammed her empty glass into the bar's gully. It was replaced before she had a chance to gather herself. A sip for confidence and the frazzled woman turned back to Billie.

"You want to know the truth? Sweet guy, racist mother, and an upset kid. I've got my own problems but I just keep worrying about those two..." Grace admitted. Billie raised an eyebrow. "Theres tension and I think I caused it-"

"Let me guess: The kid isn't taking to dad's new 'Lady Friend' all that well?" Grace's drink was taken from her hands and Billie took a long, slow swig of it. "Classic dilemma."

"That what it feels like..." The glass was returned near empty. "I just wonder "What if I just ruined things?", you know? Hazel is such a sweet girl and I don't want to be the reason why she doesn't feel safe any-"

Grace bit her tongue. Her mind was abuzz with thoughts and for a moment she couldn't remember which Hazel she was going on about. The turtle girl whose life she ruined or the innocent girl whose life she might be ruining... Or WHY she was bothering to tell Billie about any of it.. 

The redhead didn't seem to notice. 

"Its an adjustment period, Grace. All kids handle it in their own messed up way." The last of the rum and coke was finished off. "Are you two officially dating or-"

"... Not really." A shrug, "Hazel really wanted us together before and now I think she hates me... I *know* his mom hates me."

"Is he close with his mother?" 

"No- I think it's more obligation than anything... From what I gather, she took care of-" Grace stopped quickly. "Why am I telling you this?" 

"No idea- but if its just Hazel you have to worry about then just give her space. Take some time away. Remind her that you're not there to steal her daddy from her..." Billie returned to her own drink, "Unless you are, then I absolutely do NOT know how to help you."

"I'm not trying to steal Simon... I just want to kiss him a bunch and pamper the Hell out of his daughter because I love them so much." She made sure to add as much sarcasm as she could to all of that. 

"... Wai-"

"Billie, don't even bother reading into that part." Grace huffed, "Its like you said. This is just a classic dilemma. Nothing more. Okay?"

"It sounds like you have his attention so I don't think some time off will hurt things."

"Thats what I was thinking..." Another round of drinks was ordered, "Its one of the only reasons why I decided to go out tonight..."

A ghost's words sounded in the back of her mind. 'You were a recluse until you found someone who happened to fit the theme for your fantasy and went for it...' And now more than ever, she saw it as truth. Had things not turned out the way they had, she knew exactly where she'd be. Playing house with a new Simon and Hazel. If they had allowed it, she would be with them right now, and not half-heartedly discussing her troubles with a co-worker she hardly knew the name of... 

It was pathetic and it felt more shameful the longer she thought of it...

A thin arm wrapped around her shoulders in an awkward side hug. From the corner of her eye, she could see Billie smile at her. A friendly smile that just seemed to scream 'I'm here if you need someone to vent to'. Grace took comfort in that.The red head had always tried to be a friend to Grace. Ever since they started as co-teachers.

Grace had always pushed others away, but lately all she wanted was to let others in. It was scary at times and a huge adjustment- but if she expected Hazel to do it for her then she could do it too.

"Hey. I'm glad you came with. You never want to hang out." This was true. Grace felt a smile worm its way onto her face. 

If I'm going to spend time away from the Laurents, I'm going to spend it working on me... Hazel deserves the best Grace I can be if she decides she wants me to stick around...

"I'm glad I came out too." She set her hands flat against the bar top and let it cool her fingers. It grounded her in the moment. "I need to be out of my own mind for a little while."

"Good... Now let's get our drink on and forget our troubles!" 

Grace was about to agree when her phone lit up. 

Simon: *Photo Attachment*

It was a photo of a sleeping Hazel, resting atop a pile of scattered papers and dressed in her dance clothes. The message under it read 'Hazel says this is her 'writing outfit' now. We finished two whole chapters tonight!'.

Grace saved the photo to her gallery and sent a photo of her empty glass in a reply. 

Grace: Awesome! Missing you guys tonight.

Simon: *Read*

A pang ran through her heart. It's point of origin was- known. She wasn't going to pretend it didn't hurt her to be left on read. Already she was missing them again and wished she was there with them instead of here. But they didn't seem to miss her and she was just going to have to accept tha-

Simon: *Photo Attachment*

There was a photo of a tall glass filled. Next to it, a bottle of rum and a can of coke. Simon was giving the set up a thumbs up. It was too cute and dorky not to save.

Simon: Looks like you're having fun!! Stay safe.

Grace: You too.

Simon: Miss you too... Both of us.

A blink and the pain was gone.

Two tall drinks were placed in front of them. Billie shoved them both over towards Grace, effectively splashing a bit of chilled soda across Grace's lap. It burned like cold metal, but she wasted no time in grabbing one and sipping it. The drink stung going down but it warmed her like Simon's laugh. As much as she missed it, there was a little girl who needed it more. 

She could live without it for a little while.

Chapter Text

It snowed that night...

Fall had come and gone without anyone realizing it. 

The days got shorter and colder as the winter season approached. Music on the radio was filled with nothing but commercials for "extended Black Friday deals" and the same four Christmas songs. Even Simon's work had taken him off the register in favor of putting up decorations. And everyday, even on his earliest shifts, it felt as though he were leaving in the middle of the night.

Hazel seemed to feel this way too. Her bedtime seemed to get earlier and earlier the darker it got out. Today, a Sunday, it was at 6:30 on the dot. Right after dinner, she curled up next to her dad on the couch and was out like a light. No desert, no TV-time, not even a bath. She hadn't even changed out of her church clothes yet. 

Normally, Simon would have woken her up to at least put on pajamas. But he had many things to do this night. He figured church clothes would suffice for the night... Save for her awfully scratchy church socks, which Hazel kept pressing against his side. Those were removed and promptly disgarded somewhere under the couch to be picked up later. 

Hazel stirred softly and muttered something about 'cold feet'. Simon smiled faintly and tucked her toes under the hem of his sweater.  That seemed to settle her back to sleep. 

"Get some rest, Princess Hazel." He muttered before grabbing his laptop from the coffee table. 

The latest chapter of their book was still open on the screen. While there would be no Esmoroth writing tonight, but he was sure Hazel wouldn't mind it. That solar powered kiddo would always take some extra sleep above anything else. It gave him time to get edits- and maybe some early Christmas shopping done. He had a lot to get ordered, according to Hazel's Christmas list that she cleverly slipped between a paragraph break.

A Crossbow 

Another Cat

A Puppy 

A Turtle

A Princess Doll

A Monkey

Another Monkey to be It's Friend

A Mom, but at your leisure. Seriously, take your time. No one is rushing you. I want us both to be happy, okay? You protect my smile and I protect yours.

"So thats why she asked me how to spell 'leisure'..." He mused, glancing down at his still sleeping child.

She could be so thoughtful for her age. He'd pull down the moon for her if he could... But if all she asked for was time and patience, then how could he say no? 

"I love that girl so much..." Simon muttered as he moved back up the list.

... Some of the list was easier to get than the rest. A cashier's salary could only go so far. The man rolled his eyes up to the ceiling and back down to the ground. They landed on the family's Christmas tree, already up earlier than he would have liked. It was all lit up with gold and silver baubles and tinsel. Hazel had insisted it go up as soon as possible so they could enjoy it for longer. 

Any other year, he would have fought her a little harder on that. But after everything, he was willing to do anything to make his Hazel smile a little more. Between the tree and the Esmoroth updates, she seemed to be doing significantly better... But still off. 

They had finished two chapters of their book, but there was still a constant theme of Lady Gracie as the villain. Simon had tried to  convince his child to make an adjustment to the plot. While Hazel agreed to make Gracie more well rounded, the story still went that Gracie had King Simon under a spell and Princess Hazel locked outside of the kingdom- 

"And yet its Princess Hazel calling all the shots in real life..." 

With a huff, the blonde opened the Esmoroth tab and glared at the chapter. It was so beyond hypocritical. The characterisation was all wrong in his own opinion. But to Hazel- it was perfect...

And as the writing agreement went, if two authors couldn't agree on a change, they'd improvise... This time that meant leaving that part alone and waiting to see how things shook out.

And that also meant until things were okay with the real 'Lady Gracie', that meant spending some time away from the real Grace. It wasn't ideal, espeically at this time of year. Christmas had always been a particularly lonely time of year for Simon. He had been looking forward to spending it with a friend his own age for once-

*CRASH!*

The pale golden glow of the lights cast a glare on his glasses. But he could still make out the fluffy form of the family's white cat. He was batting at the ornaments at the bottom of the tree. One was broken next to him.

"Tuba! Don't do that." The cat yowled loudly and stuck his tail in the air. "Don't sass me! It's my tree!"

The cat let out a hiss and bolted from the tree. He pounced angrily onto Simon's lap and needed his sharp claws against the man's leg. The cat's way of saying 'Screw your rules, human-father!'. Simon shook his head and scratched the feline's fluffy ears.

The animal's tone changed instantly and it pushed it's furry head against Simon's cheek... It then hissed angrily, nipped his face and jumped from his lap. The blonde rolled his eyes a second time and rubbed his cheek. It was rough, sure, but not enough to warrant a bite in his opinion.

"What was that for, asshole?" He huffed, watching as Tuba stuck up his tail and sauntered over to Hazel. 

The cat nuzzled the bit of the girl's hair that fell over the side of the couch. He then hissed protectively as Simon.

"... I'm not mad at Hazel." Simon muttered. The man set aside his laptop and rose to his feet. "She's just so stubborn... I know this is a big change, but I need change and-... And now I'm talking to a cat... Nice Simon."

The animal hissed again and swatted at Simon's foot before running back off to the tree. "Hey! I'm just being honest-" 

Hazel stirred a little in her sleep. Simon turned his attention to her and his heart softened again. There was his little pride and joy... The sweet girl who would never intentionally do anything to hurt him... He smiled and pressed a soft kiss to her tiny cheek...

She then swatted him away quickly. "Prickly..." She muttered in her sleep. 

The man wouldn't have eyes if he kept rolling them. "Come on, Haze. It hasn't been that long since I last shaved-"

Oh, but it had. The last time he even looked a razer was after their trip, and that was already some time ago. The man grimaced at the thought and made a mental note to fix that and the ornament (and his longing) once Hazel was in bed.

But first-

Simon went swiftly to the kitchen and put on a pot of coffee. He felt like he'd be asleep the better half of the night without it. The dark liquid popped and fizzled as it slowly dripped into the empty glass. The smell of dark roast followed it, but it didn't bring any new energy with it. The man felt his eyes voluntarily close and he took to reminiscing. 

Coffee always seemed to remind him of Grace these days. He could never seem to make his the way she had that first night of their offical friendship... When he couldn't stand to reminisce anymore, he left the coffee to brew on its own and returned to Hazel.

"Okay, monkey. Lets get you tucked in-"

*knock knock* 

"Or not." 

Now, Procedure 328: 'Answer the door with a weapon in hand' usually didn't go into effect until 7:30pm. But it was dark and they weren't expecting company, so he chose to make an exception. There was an old carving knife up on the cabinet for just such an occasion. 

It was worn with a slippery handle, but it was intimidating enough to be an effective weapon against potential intruders and people trying to talk to him about organized religion. Luckily, it was neither of them. When he opened the door, he found their visitor was a familiar face. 

"Grace!" 

"Simo- Is that a knife?" The woman frowned softly. Simon didn't mind. He missed seeing her face.

"Yes. For protection." He stepped back without thinking. Grace entered after an equal amount of thought. 

She set a bag next to the door. "You need to protect yourself from me?" 

"Can never be too careful." The knife was discarded on an empty spot on the shelf and the door was closed behind Grace. "What brings you here?" 

"Dropping off some stuff." Grace gestured to the bag. "Early Christmas gifts for Hazel and some information packets for dance... I hope that's okay."

"Well, 'Early' is an understatement, but its fine..." He glared at the bag, "Weren't we just in August?"

"It feels like just yesterday." Grace shrugged, "I don't even know what month we're in."

"I'd say November or December." Simon teased, "They've started playing Mariah Carey at work..."

"That sounds terrible." Grace stepped around him and ventured further into the livingroom.

He watched her gracefully and quietly maneuver her way around furniture until she was knelt before a sleeping Hazel. She smiled so sadly but lovingly at the child and kissed her forehead. "Is she still mad at me?"

"Mad at you? No..." Simon rubbed the back of his neck. "Weary about us? Probably."

Grace wrinkled her nose. "Don't give me that. She was so upset at dance.-" 

"That was because she felt like I was ignoring her and letting you take over her daily life..." The rubbing continued. His neck was starting to get sore. "It was my fault."  

"You give yourself too much credit." Grace huffed, "She loves you too much to suspect you of any wrong doing."

"... I think you're right." 

Grace turned her head toward the coffee table. Simon could see the focus in her eyes and followed their line of sight to his still open laptop. The title of 'Esmoroth' glared back at them both. Her pupils slide left and right rapidly as she read over the latest chapter.

"'Lady Gracie'...?" She sighed after a moment. "And she bewitched King Simon?"

"... Apparently... Listen Grace- its not that Hazel hates you... Its just a big change having other people in our lives and directing us and-" Simon shook his head and dropped his hand at his side. A silence fell between the pair, as it tended to. 

Grace stood up and offered Simon a small smile. "Shes a good writer... Or do you proofread?"

"W-what-?" 

"You heard me." That smile widened.

He dropped his gaze to the floor. "I... I proofread occasionally... She's advanced for her age-" 

"I can tell... Would you send me the updates when you guys get done with them? I'm invested now." Her voice had a hint of teasing to it- but her face was serious. "I want to see what happens between Lady Gracie and King Simon."

Heat pooled in Simon's face and he bowed his head deeply. His heart had gone from 0 to 100 in a matter of seconds, just as it had at the dance studio. He could practically feel (or perhaps he was imagining) Grace's teasing smirk as she continued to look at him. "Grace... What even are we? This doesn't seem like something two friends would be concerned about-"

"I'm not sure, but whatever we are, we'll figure it out." Her voice was soft and reassuring, "I'm not going to come between you and your daughter- but you already know that. If it takes forever for Hazel to come around to that, then I'm willing to wait."

"You... Sound confident in that." 

"I had some time to mull things over on my own with a trusted person." A shrug, "And hearing that you two missed me helped immensely..."

"H-helped?" Simon frowned. "So this bothers you just as much as it bothers me?"

A nod. "I love your daughter. If I made her uncomfortable then I'm going to worry about it."

"That makes me feel worse... I've made both of you unhappy without even realizing it and-" Grace waved her hand.

"And we've been through worse and more awkward situations. Like the time I drunk kissed you in Florida and thought you were my dead friend, remember?"

A gentle smile tugged its way onto Simon's lips and he slowly raised his head, "Yeah- let's not tell Hazel about that first part." 

"My lips are sealed..." 

Before Simon could respond Grace gestured to the bag on the floor, "Theres an invite in the dance packet, by the way... The studio is having a Christmas party. If Hazel feels comfortable, I'd love for you two to come."

"I'll ask Hazel later-"

Speak of the Devil. No sooner had he spoke that name did the girl begin to stir. Grace frowned. "I should go before she wakes up." 

Grace crossed to him and kissed his cheek gently. Unlike the cat and child, she didn't complain. "Merry Christmas, Simon."

"Its not Christmas yet, Grace."

She smiled still, and turned toward the door.. Simon wanted to reach out to her. Maybe tell her not to go- but he didn't. He watched as she let herself out and went out into the cold dark. 

The door clicked as it shut quietly behind her, and Simon found himself feeling more alone than he had before. Coffee all but forgotten, the blonde returned to the couch and sat down. Once again, his eyes voluntarily slid shut, and he began to reminisce. 

He woke up alone. 

He swept up the ornament alone.

Gathered up Hazel and put her to bed alone. 

Daily projects and basic house keeping was done alone, and when he was finished he went to bed alone. The clock in the hallway echoed loudly off of the empty walls of the too big house with not enough people. The ticking of time going by was so loud and yet the deafening silence somehow found its way though. 

Simon didn't think he would be able to get to sleep anytime soon. Not with this quiet and not this early in the night. It was only 7:30pm. He had thought to call Grace, but then thought better of it. Instead, he sent a long overdue email to his therapist.

Then he put on a YouTube video for background noise and shut his eyes to pretend he wasn't alone. 

Chapter Text

"Last Christmas, I gave you my heart.

But the very next day, you gave it away-"

Grace swayed slowly to the music echoing off of the studio walls. The dimly lit area was somehow alive with the glow of several Christmas trees and lights. The soft light illuminated the large, hand-painted ornaments that hung from the ceiling as well as the styrofoam candycanes stuck to the walls.

They had gone all in with decorations and based on the cheerful muttering of guests, their students and their parents couldn't be more pleased. 

"This year, to save me from tears...

I'll give it to someone special."

Among them, one Simon Laurent. While Grace could feel his mild discomfort from across the room, he didn't seem as tense as usual. He hadn't even called a procedure yet. A group of fathers had gotten to him and struck up some small talk. From what Grace could pick up from their conversation, they all were taking turns sharing something about their daughters or why they hated their bosses.

"At least he's having a good time."

"A crowded room, and friends with tired eyes."

The party had kicked off around 5, and was now well underway. The snack table still had quite a bit left on it- Well, enough that Grace didn't think to worry about running out to her car to get more just yet. Though there was still the matter of a little cookie thief hiding from her under the table... Or many, as she heard several mismatched giggles as she passed by the table a second time. 

With an eyeroll, she lifted the corner of the tablecloth and peaked under. Only to find four little barefoot girls with a tray of snacks between them all. "Having fun?" 

Lucy Armstrong, Trina Elm, Rhonda Smith- and Hazel Laurent. All pressed against the wall at the sight of their instructor. The stolen cookie plate was quickly tucked away and they offered an 'innocent' grin. Grace sent one back and bopped each of their noses. "Those cookies are for everyone, you know?"

"We do know! We were going to put it back!" Lucy lied. "Honest!"

"Uh huh... Well, come on out and socialize." Part of the job involved encouragement- and making sure your students didn't eat too much sugar. 

The cookie plate was returned to its spot and the group of girls dispersed. Lucy and Rhonda went to find their parents, Trina snagged another cup of punch then disappeared into the crowd. That left Hazel, all alone under the table. She looked- annoyed. 

"Hazel?" Grace knelt before her.

"We were having fun..." The girl muttered into her knees. "Did you have to send them away?"

Grace forced a kind smile, "You could have gone with them. I just didn't want you all to miss the party."

Hazel dropped her head to her knees. This was the first time she and Grace had spoken in a little while. Grace could feel her discomfort as well as she could feel Simon's. If anyone was about to call a procedure, it be her. 

"Who am I supposed to play with now...?" Hazel sighed, "All my friends went away..."

An opportunity arose from that, "I'm your friend. You could play with me, Hazel."

"You're not my friend... Your daddy's friend who makes us do stuff I don't want to do." Ouch. 

With a heavy sigh (and years of dance) Grace slid under the table next to Hazel. It was a bit of a tight fit and her neck was definitely going to be sore later. No matter. It was time for Lady Gracie to put an end to the feud with Princess Hazel. That started with a hand on her shoulder.

"Hey, I'm your friend too... I remember a time when you always wanted me to play with you." Her hand was shrugged off. "Come on, Hazel."

"That was before you changed everything... I had to get on a plane, and left with strangers, a-and my hair cut and no more Esmoroth, and dance and-" 

The little girl's breathing had increased rapidly. She tugged fistfuls of her yellow locks away from her scalp. Tears were welling in her eyes. It didn't take long for Grace to conclude that she was panicking. It took even less time for Grace to remember the research she had done for Simon. 

Tip #: Try and keep the person's mind off of things with pleasent conversations.

"H-hey. We had fun too. Remember when my mom kept giving you all of those cookies? And when you dressed up special for our date?" 

She refrained from reaching out to Hazel. Tip #2 had been to give the person space unless requested otherwise. "Y-yeah... But that was before..."

"Before-?"

"Ugh! I don't know- all the *big* changes a-and then my tummy kept getting *BIG* knots and I-I didn't know how to stop them-" The girl sniffed. 

Grace tensed up slightly. This really wasn't her place to discuss. She was no doctor and Hazel was only a little girl- but she has to say something... Less a magic Train arrive to take the girl away. "Hazel- it sounds like you're having anxiety from all the change... I understand." 

"Y-you do...?" Another sniff.

"I used to get big knots in my tummy before *and* after I met you and your daddy... Big changes used to scare me so much... Even meeting you guys was a little scary at first." 

"I-It was...?" Hazel peaked up from her hair.

"Oh yeah..." 

"S-so what did you do...?" Progress.

"I rolled with the change and the knots didn't get as big... And then the changes weren't changes anymore. They were part of my life... A part that I love a lot." Not a full lie, but not the truth either... But its what Hazel needed to hear, "And sometimes I had to be honest with myself that I was scared."

"A-and it made you feel better?" Hazel wiped a few stray tears from her eyes. 

"A lot better... It was like this  big load was taken off of my shoulders..." Grace smiled and cautiously rested a hand on the other's shoulder. "And I got two of the best friends in the world because of it."

Hazel nodded her head slowly and wiped her nose on the back of her head. The faintest smile glimmered on her watery face.

"Do you want to try it?"

Hazel nodded. Then she placed both of her sweaty hands atop of Grace's and drew in a deep breath. Her little eyes shut tightly, "Ms. Grace- I'm scared of *big* changes-. Like- really really scared of them."

She then released Grace's hand and peaked open an eye, then the other. Then with a gasp, her eyes shot open, "I-it worked! I don't have a tummy knot anymore!"

"See? And it didn't hurt a bit, right?" A nod, "You know- my Hazel used to get upset too... And you know what she's do?"

"What?"

"She'd sing a really pretty song." Grace smiled faintly and carefully tugged Hazel into her lap for a hug, "Don't be a Worry-Baby, no need to hurry, baby... When you're with me."

"Hey- I know this song!" Hazel giggled. "Don't run way up ahead...Take the long way instead.There's lots to see..."

Grace's heart skipped a bit. She could feel a knot form in the pit of her stomach. Her mind so badly wanted to turn to the past. To bring up old memories of a time long passed... But she banished those thoughts to the darkest corner she could find and held Hazel a little tighter.

"When you slow down to listen.

Then you won't go a-missin' chances to play...

We'll always have tomorrow,

No need to let it borrow time from today."

Brown eyes shut and she buried her face in Hazel's messy hair. It smelt like coconut oil and kid's perfume. Things akin to her own childhood and not the Train. Happy things. Normal things. Because this was normal and real. 

They harmonized before the final verse. 

"So don't be a worry baby,

No need to hurry baby,

When you're with me.

Just take it easy-peasy,

My little lemon squeezy,

You're always with me..."

For a moment- she was at the party in the studio. Hazel was in her arms, swaying softly to the sounds of their own voices. There was muffled music from outside the tablecloth wall that seperated them from the rest of the world. For a moment- she was home.

And when she opened her eyes-

She was still home. Hazel still in her arms, with her face buried in Grace's chest. The party hadn't gone away. The Train hadn't come to steal her away and take her back to her own Hazel. They were both right where they were supposed to be.

"Hazel? Do you want to go dance with me?" Grace asked softly. 

"I think so." Hazel looked up, "Ms. Grace? You're crying...?"

She hadn't realized. "I'm okay." She wiped her eyes. "Just reminiscing."

"Does reminiscing hurt you?" Hazel frowned, "You know in my house- we protect each other's smiles-"

"N-no. I'm fine... Its just my soul washing out all the bad stuff." A smile broke through her storm cloud face. "Crying also helps with tummy knots."

Hazel shook her head and ducked her own head. Grace couldn't see, but she could guess that Hazel was hiding her own tears. She gave her a moment to wipe her eyes before tipping her chin up. "Come on... Lets go dance with our friends."

They shared a smile, then joined hands and crawled out from under the table and rushed off to the dance floor. Lively Christmas music was blaring around them as they swung one another around. The rest of the world seemed so far away- but not enough that others went unnoticed.

As the song drew to a close and the spinning stopped, Grace spotted Simon across the way. He was watching them, and his crooked smile seemed to shine with a light of his own. Above his head, on the doorway, was a mistletoe. 

Hazel stopped misstep and followed Grace's gaze. She gave her hand a gentle squeeze. "Its okay. Go to him..." She whispered, "And hurry before one of the other mom's gets to him first!"

Grace bit back a laugh and responded with a nod. Her hand was released and she took a moment to gather her confidence. Then she raced off to the blonde with a bit of a spring in her step.There was no guilt or tension to hold her back now. And when she kissed him this time, he seemed to be expecting it. It was sweet, warm, and full of smiles. Just as it should be.

"Ooh, ooh, now I've found a real love
You'll never fool me again."

Chapter Text

It had been years now since the train... 

Years since she woke at the hospital, her parents and grandparents surrounding her bedside. Police were there too... When it came time to recount the story of her 8 year long absence- she lied. A magic train became a regular one. Her kidnapping transformed into a simple tale of a child who had run away from an unsupportive household, living in plain sight for years... She never once mentioned having a friend with her during that time. 

That was the new story. No- it was the only story. The one she stuck with for so many years, in so many therapist's offices, that soon she began to believe it herself. Convincing herself that she made the train up in an attempt to cope with her ordeals after running away. That none of it had been real. The train, it's conductor, the false conductor, Hazel, the Apex-.... Even Simon had been made up. Thats why she would never see him again-

"I can help whose next!" 

"Find everything okay?" The cashier asked, his tone less than interested.

"I did-" 

Her whole world screeched to a halt when she looked up. He looked different- so different than when she had last saw him. But even with glasses and an overall cleaner appearance, she would never forget that face. 

"S-Simon!?" 

But it wasn't her Simon- it couldn't be. Logic had told her he wasn't. And the part of her brain that was too stunned to work properly made her believe it... Still, she kept half an eye on him. His shift ended shortly after he rang up her items. And just like that, he was gone from her life again.

A week later, Grace awoke with tears in her eyes.

It had been days since she last thought of Simon. But years since she dreamt of Hazel, and even longer since she stopped calling out to her in the waking world. Hazel was gone... Just as Simon was. The train had taken them from her. That phantom she had seen in the store was nothing more than that. Just a ghost that would haunt her until the end of her days. 

"You can't get them back, Grace." Her voice didn't sound like her own, "Its time to move on..." 

Her heart hammmered behind her ribs. It felt as though there were a locomotive angrily charging through her chest. Her breathing was labored- her spacious bedroom suddenly felt too small, the air too warm- too heavy- she felt like she was suffocating. Unable to pull enough air into her lungs- She had to get out of there! She had to be as far away from those dreams as she could... She had to go somewhere where the train wouldn't find her-

So she ran.  

Pajamas and messy hair be damned. The sudden burst of fall air and frigid rain against her heated skin felt like a blessing. Her plush socks would be full of holes soon, but she hardly noticed them or the rocks that fell underfoot. The pain was proof she was alive and this was not a dream. The burn in her lungs, the pull in her legs- it was proof. It was strength. The further she got from her house, the more real it all felt. She felt real again. The more she ran, the further the train seemed... She could outrun- she would have to. She wouldn't let anyone or anything stop her-

THUMP!

All at once, she was thrown back, sent crashing to the ground. A new pain erupted in her lower back when she landed, and any lingering thoughts from earlier had been dashed a millisecond later. Never before had she felt so thankful for crashing into someone. It didn't matter who it was. 

Anyone except- "Grace?" Him...

"S-Simon?" 

Logic told her once more who he was. Just an imitation. There were plenty of blonde men that fit the deceased's description. The name bit- well, what is in a name anyhow? Bottom line was that this was not her old friend. This Simon hadn't come to kill her. He held an umbrella over her head and smiled kindly at her... So unlike Him.

She would later learn there were more differences between the two. This Simon was a scout leader and a cashier. He wrote his own procedures while on break- just for fun and not for use on raids. This Simon smiled with his whole face and laughed earnestly as Grace's teasing. But the biggest difference-

"Daddy!"

"Hey, kiddo!"

This Simon was a father.

...

The interaction was cute. Too cute- and little too weird. This man might have looked like her Simon, but he certainly didn't act like it. This one took control without being overly controlling, from what she could tell- and his procedures actually made sense!

'Maybe in another life-'

Eyes were on her suddenly. She could feel it before she saw them. Two, wide brown eyes, hidden behind a forest of blonde. The little one was staring at her...

She shifted uncomfortably, wondering if now would be an appropriate time to bid the little family farewell and head home. 

"Its you-" The little one spoke, voice faint in awe. Tiny hands reached up to push the mass of hair away- revealing a sweet little face that Grace thought she would never see again.

"Hazel!?"

Grace never did get clarification on that during that first meeting...

Before she could ask, she was pulled into a nearby car and carted off by her furious mother. The older woman berated her for being out so "under dressed" for the entire half-hour it took them to get to the nearest "high end" (not as high as her mother would have liked, but they did fantastic work) hair salon in the city. Nothing but the best for them, after all... 

"You were outside! What if somebody else saw you!?" Her mother went on. "I don't know what you learned on the streets, but you've been home for years now! You should know better."

"I know, mom... I'm sorry- I just had to get out of the house-" That earned a swat on the wrist. 

"And you didn't think to put on actual clothes first?" The woman buried her face in a jeweled hand, "I thought I raised you better... And what was that riff-raff you were with?"

"Just some guy I bumped into." Not a complete lie. 

Her gut was telling her that the man *was* her Simon, but her brain was fighting her with things like "logic" and "facts". Simon died on the train, and Hazel would be much older by now- and she would NEVER call Simon her dad... Not that Grace could share any of this with her mother. As far as her mother was concerned, the train and anyone on it didn't exist. Grace never told her about any of it, and she wasn't planning on mentioning it now. 

"And it was a man no less. Grace, I swear at this rate you'll be unmarried the rest of your life." Her mother reached over and swatted her arm again. "You know I wanted grandchildren! I was hoping at the very least you would've brought some back with you..." 

'I was hoping so too... You would've loved Hazel...' 

That was another thing that still kept resistance in her mind. Her mother no longer kept as tight a hold over her now that she was older. Too old to compete in dance competitions and pageants- but not to old to "make" someone who could. Or- at least raise someone who could. A little starlight in her aging mother's life

During her travels on the train, she had been hopeful that starlight would have been Hazel... She had pictured them all together, her, Simon, and Hazel- whether they stayed on the train or left. Just a perfect little family, like the one she had left behind, just with more love... When they had the snowball fight in the Cat Car, the image became cemented in her brain... And unfortunately- time hadn't worn away at it.

'That latest encounter didn't help...'

Even with it *right in front of her*, she couldn't shake the image of the family she had created in her mind from scraps of nothing. The one she always considered to be her's. Sure, there was a Simon in the real world, with a Hazel at his side. But it wasn't her's. Not even close to what Grace had imagined. She didn't want this version- couldn't stand to know it existed around her... Her mind was now buzzing with a million questions.

Is this all an illusion created by the train? Was she truly home or stuck in a world of her creation? If she *was* home, then what did the train continue to punish her!? Was this a reward? And if it was- why now!? The Laurents weren't her family to go back to- they never were! Did it make her a horrible person to wish they would go away? Back to wherever they had come from if not the train-

'Its okay, Grace... Just finish your day...' 

The startled woman left the car and stumbled into the salon. She started pleasent small talk with the owner, Rebecca. Casual things such as the length of her hair. She was lead to the back shortly thereafter. Dark eyes shifted from the bowls, over to Rebecca's appointment book. Still open to the day's date. A date Grace had worked so hard to forget about. 

'It's just the anniversary of the train... Its just an off day... Please just let it be an off day...' 

It hadn't been an off day. 

It had been an off week, then an off month. Then two months went by- then another and another until she stopped keeping track. 

Since that first week, so much had changed. So many ups and downs and heartache and heartbreak. There were times she thought she'd have a heartattack from shock, and other times she thought her heart would burst from joy. It had been broken and repaired over and over in such a short amount of time. 

She battled for Esmoroth alongside princess Hazel, went to a McDonald's Playland, met Simon's horrible mother, went on a 'real date' with the little family, got roped into going to their church, and later roped them into going all the way to Florida with her and her family.

Grace had also learned many things about the Laurents. Many strange and wonderful things. They had a cat named Tuba and a book called The Emsoroth Trilogy. She learned that this Simon was agoraphobic, but willing to get on a plane if Hazel asked it. She also found that this Hazel had Simon's personality. The little one rebuffed questions she didn't want to answer and preferred her hair down. In their household, they protected each other's smiles.

And now, that included hers.

...

While she wasn't a permanent resident yet, she also wasn't considered a guest. She had spent Christmas with them, and slept on Hazel's bed as their waited for Santa (translation: She snuck out after Hazel fell asleep and share a coffee with Simon. They put her presents under the tree and then sat on the couch together.). The rest of the night was spent with idle small talk and an occasional (if not nervous) kiss. All in all, it was almost the best Christmas Grace had had. 

Almost. 

The next day had brought cold and now. The normally active and punctual Laurents had chosen to sleep in. Grace checked on them both. 7AM and still sleeping like rocks. Part of her wanted to go back to sleep. To curl up in the feather down blankets Simon had given to her and just enjoy the warmth. Enjoy the light of the tree for a little longer- 

Or have a coffee. 

The coffee idea ultimately won out, and she found herself parked at the kitchen table. Hands were folded around the warm cup tightly and she inhaled deeply. She allowed her eyes to slide shut- but not from the peaceful atmosphere... In fact- that atmosphere had been gone ever since she awoke. There was static in the air...

It was heavy and loud, like a freight train running straight towards her. The world around her seemed to be shaking. Coffee splashed over the rim of her cup and landed on her pant leg, and still she didn't dare to open her eyes. The shaking stopped shortly there after, and still she wouldn't look. She couldn't will them to open.

Yet even with them closed, she could sense a guest had joined her at the table...

"Grace Monroe." A British voice rang out through the quiet. 

"Amelia Hughes..." Grace muttered bitterly. "Long time no irritate."

"Nearly a decade..." The older woman huffed, "Best years of my life."

"What brings you here...?"

Grace took a long, slow sip of her coffee. It tasted very weak, and her butterfly riddled stomach gurgled unhappily at it. Her eyes remained locked up tight. To look would be to confirm, and to confirm would be to lose to the Train a second time.

"Just checking in." Grace could hear the woman propping her elbows onto the table and steepling her hands under her chin, "Am I not allowed to check on one of my "followers"?"

Grace rolled her eyes under her lids. "Now why are you really here, Amelia? I know you didn't just get your number down to zero and walk off the Train into *this* house..." 

"Well, you've caught me." Amelia huffed, "I'm only here on a temporary leave for an assignment... To make sure *you* don't get back on the Train. Why don't you open your eyes so you know I'm not lying?"

"I won't..." If I open my eyes, this could all go away...

"Nothing will disappear if you open your eyes. I assure you, you are in the real world." Amelia said, "Believe you me, the Train doesn't pull artifical 'perfect' worlds... I've tried."

Grace shook her head, "I'll keep them closed, thank you... I've seen enough of your scowl to last a lifetime."

"... Fair enough." She could hear that scowl.

"I'm sure you'd like to know how your little friend is doing-"

Grace frowned deeply and clutched her coffee tighter. "I know how she is. She's asleep in her bed-"

"Your little *turtle* friend."

Grace swallowed thickly. Her throat felt dry. Too dry for her liking... She took another sip of coffee. 

"Is she alive...?" She heard herself ask. It felt wrong to want to know. Like she was prying into someone's personal life without permission... Train Hazel would hate that.

"Yes-" 

"Then that's all I want to know." The mug was set down hard against the table, but it hardly made a sound. "She's not mine-"

There was a pause in the conversation. Amelia's starched uniform crinkled loudly as the woman shifted onto one elbow. Based on the lack of eyes felt on her, Grace assumed the old woman was looking down. Perhaps mulling over the statement. 

"... Good." Amelia hummed, "You've grown quite a bit, Grace Monroe... Congratulations on accomplishing the bare minimum of being human."

"That sounds like what you wanted to hear..." Grace sighed. "Did I pass the test? I've got to play Santa soon-"

This time, it was Amelia who somehow audibly rolled her eyes. "Yes, you've 'passed'... Now, do you have anymore questions for me? Any doubts you'd like to put to bed that would aid you in your self-help journey?"

"None whatsoever." That was a damn, dirty lie. There was one question- one she wanted answered for a long time but was now too scared to ask. Even with the answer so close.

"Well then, if thats all you want to know of your friend and you won't look at me, I'll be going."

Grace heard Amelia's chair scrape against the floor as she stood. The static had returned to the air with a vengeance, different from the static that had surrounded Grace when she was stuck in her t- No! She wasn't stuck anywhere. She was at the Laurent Household enjoying Christmas. She had moved on to bigger and better things. There was nothing left she wanted from the Train-

"Amelia." Except... For one thing. "Who is the family in this house...?"

Amelia stopped, "I don't understand that question-"

"The Laurents... Who are they?" Grace asked.

"Hm... I wouldn't know." A smirk lined Amelia's tone. "Should I know them? You're asking very vague questions."

She knew what Grace wanted to know... She was just waiting for her to ask it outrightly. 

"Are they the Simon Laurent and Hazel from the Train?" Not that it mattered. It would never matter to her- but she needed to know. 

Her heart was oddly still as she waited for the answer.

"No."

That single word burst through Grace's world. It destroyed so much doubt and created so many more questions... None of which she felt Amelia could or would answer. The Train only kept tabs on its passengers, after all. The rest was up to her.

"Thank you..." 

A nod, followed by heavy footsteps. They were almost to the door. Almost out of Grace's life forever. A small smile tugged at her lips this time and she could feel her heart settling. "Oh- and Amelia?"

"Yes?"

"Tell Hazel- I said "Merry Christmas"... And I'm sorry..."

"... Very well. Merry Christmas to you as well, Grace Monroe... And good luck."

"Merry Christmas, Amelia..."

The door opened and closed quietly after that. The trembling Earth returned and Grace set a hand over her mug. The faintest Train whistle could be heard in the distance. It faded seconds later. She kept her eyes shut an extra second, just as she had at the studio.

When she opened them, she heard Hazel- *Her* Hazel- finally begin to stir. Five seconds of stretching passed before the girl finally settled. Grace allowed her smile to grow. Then she stood and sauntered back off towards the couch. The warm blankets welcomed her and she joined the Laurents back in dreamland. 

Chapter Text

Years Earlier:

The 10 year old's heart was pounding in his chest.

Thick, hot tears streamed down his cold cheeks. He was embarrassed, hurt, scared- The school auditorium felt much too big around him. Like a large, black void come to swallow him up. Even with the bleachers hiding him and the loud chatter of the packed space, he still felt exposed.

Exposed to a cruel, unforgiving student body who had laughed him off stage mere minutes ago. All over a simple mistake- a mistake that he uttered so loudly into the microphone in front of everyone... A fresh sob escaped him and he hugged himself tighter. He felt helpless. There was nowhere for him to go. No safe place to suffer in. Should he cry to loudly now, the whole school would hear it and ridicule him for it...

Helplessly, he pushed himself further against the wall and shut his eyes. A hand was clapped over his mouth in a feeble attempt to stiffle his hiccups. He didn't have any friends who would come looking for him... As long as he stayed quiet, no one would notice...

"Hey-" 

The boy jumped. He scrubbed his face quickly and turned in the direction of the voice. 

A girl- from his class no less. Her name escaped him, but he'd recognize her tightly braided hair and big brown eyes anywhere... He'd also recognize her pout anywhere too. 

"You're Simon, right?" Her tone was disproving and Simon's heart sank quickly.

She was here to ridicule him- he could feel it. His stomach churned angrily at the thought. With a feeble nod, he pushed his head between his knees in an attempt to hide his tears as they began to fall again.

But there was no ridicule. No laughter from the girl. She placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. "What are you doing under here for?" She asked.

"I-I messed up a-and everyone laughed an-" Simon scrubbed his eyes angrily. He felt more helpless now than he had alone. 

"And? Thats nothing to cry about." The girl frowned, and used her free hand to brush a tear away. "Look at yourself- you're shaking, you poor thing!"

"I-I don't feel well either-" He sniffed, "I-I'm not sick- I-I think its just my nerves..."

"What do you have nerves over?"

Simon shook his head and hid behind his knees once more. As much as he didn't want to talk, the conversation was distracting him."T-this room is too big..." 

"Well- Then let's go somewhere smaller! Like the park." Simon was pulled to his feet before he had time to object.

She almost had him to the door before he found the will to speak up. "I-I don't want to be anywhere... Too many people." 

"Everyone is here, so its bound to be empty!"

"W-what- But we could get in trouble!" Simon exclaimed.

"Would you rather have nerves or fun?" She tossed over her shoulder. "No one is gonna notice if we're gone."

"But what if I get nervous and cry again and everyone hears an-" A warm hand was pushed over his mouth, effectively cutting him off.

"You worry too much. Now let's go!" 

"Y-you actually want me to break the rules... With you?" He sniffed again.

"Yeah! I've decided to be friends with you." The next smile she gave him looked like the sun itself was shining through it.

Simon blinked in disbelief. "Y-you want to be friends...? After I embarrassed myself in front of the whole school-?" 

"I sure do!" She laughed, "Now let's leave this stupid spelling bee and go have some fun!"

With that, she pulled him out of the auditorium and into the hall. It was quiet there, and Simon felt at ease. The near silence was a welcome change. It was just the two of them. Isolated from the rest of the student body by a set of double doors. Simon felt relief wash over him. 

Then in an instance, they were running. Their dress shoes tapped loudly as they raced, hand in hand, towards the school's exit. Simon's heart was racing again, but this time in excitement.

8 Years Later:

Simon didn't mind quiet when it was there. 

In fact, he missed it when it wasn't there. Sitting in a crowded, noisy mall food court, he wanted nothing more than silence. His palms were sweating and his heart rate was up already. The many conversations surrounding him only made things worse. His half eaten lunch churned angrily in his stomach. A part of him wanted to leave, but he couldn't.

Not yet, anyhow. 

Between trembling hands, he clutched a shopping bag. The content of that bag, while small, felt as heavy as lead. His wrists were cramping, but he pushed the pain from his already overly crowded mind. 

'It'll be okay... No backing out now...'

Dark eyes glanced down at his watch. 4:15pm flashed across the screen. He didn't have much waiting left to do... He could make it. The panic seemed to be at bay now.

"Hey! I was wondering when you'd show up." 

His heart fluttered, but not from a panic attack. A warm hand set itself on his shoulder and his heart stilled. His best friend, love of his life, and reason for being here today had arrived.

She was still dressed in her work uniform. It smelt heavily of the many expensive perfumes they sold at the shop. It was overpowering, but Simon never minded it. It was her smell after all. It wafted over him as she took a seat next to him at the table. All at once, the crowd vanished and he felt as though it were just the two of them.

"Have you been waiting long?" 

"Y-yeah! I've been here- always- just... Waiting, you know?" Simon laughed, a tad too loud for his liking. Hopefully she didn't notice.

"I'm surprised your mom let you out of the house."

Simon wrinkled his nose and leaned back in his chair. "I'm an adult now. She can't tell me what to do."

"You're an adult as of 5 minutes ago, doofus... Which reminds me." 

She smiled, and tucked a strand of the man's hair behind his ear. A gentle cheek kiss followed. "Happy Birthday, Simon."

Heat flooded the man's face and he buried it in his hands. The way she could turn him into such a mess in less than 3 words amazed him... And startled him. That woman held his whole world on a string and she knew it well. 

"T-thanks..." Simon squeaked out. This time his voice shook a little too much for his liking.

And this time she had noticed. "Are you feeling alright, Simon? You seem nervous... And not in your usual way."

"I-I'm fine-" That was a flat out lie.

She smiled and took his damp hand gently. "Come on. We can get out of here-"

"Wait-" The bag he was holding slipped out of his hands and clattered to the floor. He fumbled for it quickly, face now heavy from red. 

He was nervous. More nervous than he had ever been in his life- and that said a lot, considering his agoraphobia. There had been times he had gotten himself so worked up he puked... This felt like it would be one of those times. 

'No- Don't blow this, Simon!' He thought as he finally willed his fingers to work. It somehow felt even heavier now- and bottomless as he dug about for the *one* item inside of it. 

"I-I have something for you, actually." He muttered.

"Aww. You got me something?" She smirked, "Isn't that my job? It is *your* birthday-"

"Heh- Maybe." By then, his heart and lungs were in his throat. He could barely speak. He must have spent more time looking for the thing than he had thought.

"We can open it at my place." She caught one of his hands. "I know being here makes you nervous-"

The moment her warm skin touched his, he felt calmed. Just enough that he could finally get his hand around the item he had been searching for. With a deep breath, Simon finally mustered enough air for a snappy reply. "If I have to return it, I'd rather be here."

"Return it?" She rose an eyebrow. "Sci, since when have I returned *any* of the stuff you've gotten me?"

"Never- but this is important."

In his hands, he held a small, navy box. A silver bow decorated the top. He opened it carefully to reveal the rather simple ring hidden inside.

The ring was then set on the table, next to his half finished soda from earlier. His eyes never once left it. The blonde refused to even blink. Out of an impossible fear that it would vanish along with her should he look away. Beside him, she had gone eerily quiet.

"Simon- Is that-" He nodded.

"Thought we could make things offical... We don't need our parents permission anym-" A pair of lips crashed against his before he could finish. Strong arms wrapped around his neck and his face was damp from a mix of their tears. For a moment, it truly was just the two of them.

After another moment, they parted. "So, I'll take that as a yes...?"

"Duh!" Before he knew it, he was on his feet and being dragged toward the Mall's exit. 

"W-where are we going?" He asked, stumbling on stiff legs.

"We're eloping. Tonight." She tossed him a bright smile over her shoulder. "Thats your birthday present from me."

A lopsided smirk tugged at the corners of his lips. In that instance, he *knew* he was the luckiest man on the face of the God damn planet. "We haven't even been engaged for two minutes. Do you think that's a good idea?"

"Do you care?"

The blonde snickered quietly. "No- but aren't there rules for this sort of thing? We could get in trouble, you know?"

"Screw the rules." She laughed, "I love you, Simon Laurent and I'm ready to tell the rest of the world, but mostly your mom, to screw it because you're officially mine!" 

Simon's heart swelled. "Always have been, babe..."

"Ever since I dragged you out of that auditorium?"

"Ever since you dragged me out of that auditorium..."

"... I love you, Simon Laurent."

The kiss was expected this time, but it still filled him with warmth. He wrapped his arms around his world and held her tightly. He continued to hold her long after they broke for air. "I love you too, Mrs. Clarissa Laurent..."

Chapter Text

They were graduated by then. 

Legal adults, who were free to make their own choices. They were allowed to make their own mistakes on their own, well earned time- Or at the very least, they should have been. But life never seemed to play by the rules of man. Society was a duel edged sword.

They were free, so long as they complied to the norm and required no assistance. One slip up, and they'd be sent to be judged. 

And oh what a slip up this had turned out to be.  

After a week of sudden sickness and fatigue in Clarissa, the couple decided it was time to take a pregnancy test. As they had both expected and feared: The result had been positive. At the time, they could only stare blankly at the little pink plus sign. And after weeks of denial, the truth had become too obvious in the form of a small baby bump. 

They had been scared, but decided to make the best of it. Doctor's visits were scheduled, research was done- all had gone accordingly until an unsettling find during one of the ultrasounds at 3 months...

Thats how the pair found themselves seated in a doctor's office, with Simon in an uncomfortable chair and Clarissa on the table. The room felt deathly cold and smelt heavily of cleaning products. On occasions, a nurse would poke her head in to check up on the pair. Always friendly, but never comforting. The woman's disproving tone was only thinly veiled by her smile. 

"It feels like we're back in the principal's office..." Simon muttered.

He glanced at his wife of only a few months. Her youth seemed more pronounced somehow. The edges of her face were still round, with a bit of fat on them. Not yet sharpened from true adulthood. Everything they felt they had done right now seemed so wrong... Why else would this have happened?

Clarissa had the same nervous look he was sure he had. Her thin hands were folded on her lap, atop a neat stack of papers and brochures. Their life altering  options and final decisions were veiled by lively pictures of couples much younger than themselves. Heavy winter boots tapped loudly, in time with Simon's rapid heartbeat. 

They were awaiting a very important test result. 

"We messed up-" Clarissa muttered softly. "Not even half way out of high school and-"

"I know, I know." Simon sighed, "I'm sorry-"

"Sorry doesn't pay the bills..." Firm, but fair enough. "We can barely afford the apartment as is... How will we-"

"Don't worry about that." He set a warm, heavy hand against her abdomen, where their little surprise was currently growing. "I'll take care of all of you guys... Okay?" 

Clarissa's face warmed. Simon had hoped to draw a smile from his wife, but very little seemed to make her smile these days. There was so much to worry about. 

Running off and getting married had been the easy part. Keeping it a secret until they graduated and moved into their apartment was a breeze- hell, even the upkeep of said apartment was hardly any trouble. But this? Brain surgery seemed simple compared to it. 

"We need money, Simon." Clarissa said at last.

"And we'll have it... I have a job-" 

"You're a cashier, Simon! Unless your book writing suddenly picks up-" The door flew opened and in stepped a grim faced doctor. 

The older man's heavy glasses casted deep shadows on his deep brown face. Beady black eyes stared holes into both of their souls. The doctor's lips were pressed into a tight line. So tight that the young couple found the mere act of them parting to be quite alarming.

"Simon and Clarissa Laurent?" He spoke in a tone that could chill bone. "I have your test results." 

Simon hopped to his feet and took his wife's wet hand firmly. She squeezed it with enough force to anchor him into reality. Just as she always had... 

There was a pause, and then the doctor spoke.

"Would you like the good news or bad news first?" The older man asked.

"G-good news?" Clarissa squeaked, and Simon was sure he felt his finger bones cracking.

"Everything is normal in terms of blood work. Negative for gestational diabetes and pre-eclampsia."

The air in the room seemed to lighten and Simon and Clarissa felt able to breathe a little easier... Just a little. There was still one more result to be read-

"As for your final test-" The doctor frowned, and made a gesture towards Simon, silently beckoning the young man to sit beside his wife. The blonde obliged- never once letting go of his wife's hand.

The grim faced doctor pulled up a chair, taking his time in doing so. The air in the room felt as heavy and as cold as it could have. Beady eyes were looking about the room- stalling. The man was choosing his words carefully.

"You're not having twins."

.

.

.

Present Day:

Simon awoke to a blurry world. He brushed unshed tears out of his tired eyes. As he sat up, his aging joints popped satisfyingly. A trembling had reached up to brush the sharp corner of his jaw. Worn down from years and fatherhood. It served as a reminder of his age. Still young, but a true adult now. Ready to make more mistakes again. Some terrible, and some that would surely change his life for the better.

"Is that why you keep bugging me, Rissa?" Simon mused to no one. He set his heavy hand onto the cold side of the bed- Her side of the bed...

It had been devoid of her presence for years now, and yet he could feel her nearby. And on the rare occasions when he would dream, she'd visit him... But for a while, her visits had become far and few between. Until just recently, when he had been doubting things the most. 

Even in death, she had found a way to be his anchor. A tie back to reality and a reminder of who he was and what he was capable of... He allowed himself to smile at the thought. Then he swung his legs over the bed and stood. 

It was early- still much too early to be awake...

But he was done dreaming for the night. 

Chapter Text

Grace was familiar with police stations.

Sitting in cold chairs, disconnected from the rest of the world, watching the uniformed officers rushing about the place. She had been here twice before. Once as a child with a stolen bracelet, and once after she had returned from her ordeal with the train. She had been alone those times.

But this time, she has a guest.

"I feel like we're in the principal's office..." Simon muttered, leg bouncing wildly.

His face looked just as tired as Grace's. They were both still dressed in rumpled pajamas. What was supposed to be a happy day had turned out very wrong- and it all started when they woke up that morning.

There was a sense of relief as they had met in the livingroom, in front of the Christmas tree. A light, airy feeling was present in the room. One that starts the moment you finally start to let go of years of grief. Their respective dreams had left them happy- hopeful. 

It had been early enough that the lack of Hazel wasn't suspicious. The adults waited for her quietly, occasionally sharing a whispered conversation. The conversations were brief, but they passed the time as they waited.

...But time had continued to slip away, and the little girl still hadn't come from her room. The house had become eerily quiet... 

"I'm going to go check on her." Simon said. His voice was even, but Grace could sense discomfort in it. 

She watched as the man rose from the couch and walked quickly to Hazel's bedroom. It was marked by the only decorated door in the house. A bright, sunny yellow colour with a big purple flower painted on it. A happy matching 'Hazel' name tag hung just underneath it... It squeaked unhappily when Simon opened it and entered into the dark room. 

He was gone only a moment. The lights of the bedroom had been clicked on, but Grace could only see the edges of pink that were Hazel's bedroom walls. Everything was so bright and sunny in her room- Everything was still so happy... Then Simon came back out, face paler than normal. 

"Hazels not in her room-" 

They tried to be calm after that. Tried to be rational as they searched the rest of the house. But when the girl still hadn't turned up, panic sunk in. Friends and family of the Laurents were called, the outside yards were searched, but it seemed Hazel had vanished.

The next logical stepped had lead them here. The last place they thought they'd be on a Christmas morning. A heavy weight was in Grace's stomach as she mulled over every possibility. Of how the girl could have run away, or been kidnapped, or-

Taken by a certain Murder Train that had visited the woman just hours ago...

Hazel checked off every box for being a passenger... Espeically as of late. A deceased mom, an ever changing life- stress she didn't know how to deal with... She was the perfect candidate for One-One's next victim. If that were the case- she could be gone for months, years even. There'd be nothing more to do than sit there and wait for her to get her number down and return... How long would that be? Would Hazel even want to come back-

No! Stop thinking like that, Grace! You heard Hazel in her bedroom after Amelia left. The Train didn't take her! 

The thought provided little comfort to Grace... But even a little comfort was something right now. It was hope in its weakest form and thats what they both needed right now.

"Simon-" 

"Grace- I'm trying to think." The blonde muttered, rubbing his temple.

"It'll be okay-"

"I just had a dream about her mother and now this happens-" The man groaned, "I normally don't believe in signs but-"

Grace swallowed thickly. She briefly recalled Amelia's parting words of 'Good luck!' and the wonder of what they could mean... "Don't say that-" 

Before Simon could reply, an officer called out to him. He rose quickly and left Grace alone in the waiting room. From her spot, she could still hear his muffled voice. It wasn't loud enough for her to hear what was being said and it wasn't loud enough to muffle the voices in her head. 

They were all so loud, and scurrying about her skull like rats. Overlapping voices that had mixed until they were near inaudible. Just a jumbled mess of nonsense that took over her mind and rolled like thunder and static. 

 "I-I don't understand- you died-" "I thought I recognized you." 'Confiteor Deo et beatae Mariae semper virgini, et beato Michaeli archangelo et beato Iohanni baptistae-' "I was talking about my daughter!" "HAZEL, ITS NOT TOO LATE TO CHANGE YOUR MIND!" "Its you-" "Its good to be back." "I'm not stalking you, I swear." 'Confiteor Deo et beatae Mariae semper virgini, et beato Michaeli archangelo et beato Iohanni baptistae-' "Lets review- I have never seen you before and you just happen to come out of the woodworks 'knowing' who I am-" "ITS NOT TOO LATE TO CHANGE YOUR MIND!""Daddy comes up with the coolest names! He even named me!""And thus... They won the battle." 'Confiteor Deo et beatae Mariae semper virgini, et beato Michaeli archangelo et beato Iohanni baptistae-'"Hazel knows better- I should have been watching her better-" "TOO LATE TO CHANGE YOUR MIND!" "Its a date!" "Check please!" 'Confiteor Deo et beatae Mariae semper virgini, et beato Michaeli archangelo et beato Iohanni baptistae-' "I've been assumed to be many things- but that is a first... Though I seriously doubt theres a cult out there that does shit like procedures." "Procedure 275. No thank you." "ITS NOT TOO LATE!" "I lied." "He was my everything once- we were friends for a really long time and when our Hazel came around, I thought we'd have this nice little fam-" 'Confiteor Deo et beatae Mariae semper virgini, et beato Michaeli archangelo et beato Iohanni baptistae-''I'm going to stop you for a second and ask that you PLEASE tell me that this isn't a metaphor about you wanting to get with me and take my daughter for your own-" "I liked what we had.""ITS TOO LATE!" 'Confiteor Deo et beatae Mariae semper virgini, et beato Michaeli archangelo et beato Iohanni baptistae-''Et sanctis apostolis Petro et Paulo et beato Leutherio et Cassiano et beato Iuvenale-' "TOO LATE!"

"Grace-" All at once, the static ceased. 

"Simon-"

"They said there's nothing they can do for the next 48 hours... Lets go home..."

"Simon-" 

"Come on..." 

Grace stood on shaking legs and followed Simon out the door and into the cold. She watched the blonde as he absently walked passed his car. Snow had begun to fall over the world again, and a bitter wind rustled their hair, but they were too numb to notice. 

"Where are you going?" Grace called after him.

"Home." Simon answered quietly. He sounded so dead inside. So utterly devoid of life. Like a walking corpse, too defeated to realize it had been dead for years now... Dead and gone and living a lie that had been taken away so soon. 

"Simon- You said you dreamt of your wife last night..." Her legs carried her to his side, a step for every word she spoke. "I thought you didn't remember her-"

"I don't..." The man muttered. "Not really..."

Grace rose a hand to set on his shoulder- but hesitated. The man looked so pale and fragile- near transparent. She feared that even the softest touch would cause him to shatter into nothing. 

"I had a dream this morning too- about the Train I was on-" She admitted quietly, "It only shows up to take a passenger."

All at once, time slowed. Even the snow seemed to have stopped mid fall around them. Feeling has returned to Grace Monroe as the cold began to naw at her skin. Simon's expression had gone from dead to completely unreadable- if One-One planned to pop out at any point, now would be the time to do it-

*SNAP!*

Just as soon as it had stopped did time suddenly decide to race forward and Grace found herself being quite literally shoved back into reality. Simon Laurent now glaring furiously at her. 

"I don't want to hear another GOD DAMN thing about that Train!" He yelled, fangs bared. "My only child is missing! This is reality, Grace!"

Grace felt heat well in her cheeks, but not in embarrassment, "The Train is also reality, Simon! I was trapped there for years! My best friend died on that Train! Theres a very real chance she might be on it- and maybe you were too! There are still so many holes in your life and story that sometimes I wonder-"

"ENOUGH!" Simon's voice echoed throughout the empty air. His shoulder shook violently as he lowered his head. "Just stop..."

"Simon- I..." Grace sighed, "I'm sorry..."

"Being sorry doesn't help us..." The young father raised his head tiredly, "But- I'm sorry too..."

"Its okay..." The young woman took a step forward and willed enough courage to set her hands firmly atop Simon's still shaking shoulders. 

"I've forgotten a lot of things... Maybe I was on a magic train during that time, maybe not... Maybe neither of us were- but it doesn't matter anymore." His voice was soft, but it cut through the voices in her own mind like a knife. "Hazel is my world and I know she's yours too... Lets focus on that instead of what ifs..."

"... Okay-"

Simon heaved a sigh and brushed Grace's hand from his shoulders. "... There's one more place we haven't checked yet... Lets rule that out before we go with your crazy Train theory..."

The woman nodded and found herself beind pulled along by Simon. She had a feeling she knew where they were going.

They were headed to the secret hiding place of the Laurents. Buried in a thick patch of poison ivy, where no trespassers would ever dare to venture near. It was a perfect place to play undisturbed, and served as an even more perfect stage to act out passages of their book. So far beyond the Train tracks was it that the daily blare of bells and whistles wouldn't disrupt its occupants- Or at least, it should have been.

So why did Grace here a Train now? Softly at first, but growing in intensity. So loud that  she released Simon's hand in order to cover her ears. Out of habit, her eyes shut tight as she waited for the sound to pass. Unlike earlier that morning, it seemed to go on forever.

And then...

Silence...

.

.

.

"I remember now..."

Chapter Text

She remembered entering the Train as a child.

The air had been so still at first. It had been so quiet and warm... It felt as though she had come into a warm and welcome home from a cold and merciless world. She had been scared, confused, relieved, happy- 

Happy to be away from the security guard, from her angry parents- happy to be surrounded by warmth, no matter the origin. She had deemed the Train her home long before she realized what a home truly was... 

The Train was where Grace found her people, made her friends, grew as a person- it was where she had learned what true hatred was and love in its purest form. Grace had learned patience, empathy, love and heartbreak. But above all those things- she learned what true pain and suffering felt like.

That a broken bone and a broken heart hurt about the same when you were alone. That the Train was just as cruel as the real world if you stayed on too long. The cold, unfeeling machine wasn't a replacement for her parents or her home. And when she got off she learned what it meant to feel dread. She found that wishing with everything you had wasn't enough to stave off the fear of going back to where you started...

And wishing and praying only did so much when what you feared was right in front of you, hidden behind closed eyes...

.

.

.

"Hazel!" 

A bitter gust of wind scraped her cheek and lifted her eyelids. The glare of the bright winter sun was the first thing to burn her eyes. There was no Train this time. No red carpet rolled out to lure her in like a witch in a gingerbread house. There was only snow covered train tracks, a humble little station some distance off, and a bench... And sat atop that bench was none other than Hazel Laurent herself.

The child was in her pajamas and a thin coat, counting a pile of pennies in her hand. The sun shown upon her tawny head, and for the first time, Grace could see streaks of brown run throughout it. She could see the little freckles under the girl's eyes, and the kinks in her knotted hair. A perfect, solid, human little girl, awaiting a Train that wasn't coming.

"Darn... Missed it- I'll have to get on the next one." The girl grumbled, stuffing her coins back into her coat pocket. She then bowed her head. Whether she had noticed Grace or not- the woman didn't know.

"Hazel-" Grace barely had time to breathe before she took off running. The uneven train tracks tripped her up once or twice, but she was in too much of a hurry to fall.

Simon's own footsteps fell in place behind her. They both reached the girl before she even had a chance to look up at them and all three were enveloped in a tangle of arms and racing hearts. 

"Hazel! What the hell were you thinking!?" Simon exclaimed, still holding both Hazel and Grace in a bone crushing hug. 

Hazel only squeaked in response. "Gah! Air!"

Grace wormed her way out of the hug and gripped the girl's cheeks tightly, not only to confirm she was there, but to keep her there with her. "You can breathe later- what are you doing here!?"

It felt as though Grace's heart would burst though her chest. She struggled to hold back any tear that threatened to fall- but one look into the little girl's sad, brown eyes and she felt herself come apart. Tears clouded her vision and hid that beautiful face from her view... All the better- for Hazel's response alone was enough to shatter her heart completely.

"I was going to get your Hazel..." 

"M-my Hazel-?" Grace muttered, letting go of the girl's face long enough to wipe her eyes. 

"Your friend from the Train- I thought I had enough to get on real quick and-"

Hazel was cut off by her father- who gripped her shoulders and shook her just as badly as his own shoulders shook. "There's no- Hazel why would you- Hazel! You are in so much trouble!"

The man's voice was raw and trembled in its own sorrow. It both startled Grace and reminded her that this Simon was a parent- a true parent who right now felt as much love as he did anger. A balance that her old friend never had any hope of achieving... An old friend who wasn't around anymore and never would be again. 

Meanwhile, the child's bottom lip trembled. She bit down on it with the beginning nubs of her adult teeth, still pushing through the spots her baby teeth had left. "I-I'm sorry- but Grace's Hazel is-"

A stab of pain punctured the broken bits Grace's heart. Each shard hurt just as bad as the one next to it. Like Simon, she felt anger- but the kind that is born from pure love and concern for another.

Fresh tears slipped down Grace's face, "Damn it- She's not my Hazel! You are! She's gone- the Train is gone!" She cried, "You're not! I wouldn't let you go- Oh God... Thank God you're still here-"

Her shoulders shook violently, and they hurt even more as she reached out to embrace the child. Still, she held on with as much strength as she could manage and kissed her little forehead as much as she could. It was wet from the tears that dripped down her face, but she was sure Hazel didn't mind.

She was almost positive when Hazel hugged her back. "H-how did you know I'd be here...?" The girl squeaked after a moment.

"I didn't- your dad walked this way-" Grace admitted softly, eyes drifting up to Simon. The man had a far away look in his deep grey eyes. "He knows you really well..."

"I sure do..." A weak smile stretched across the man's face, and he sat back on the bench tiredly. Grace followed, seated right beside Hazel.

Around them, a gentle snow began to fall once more. Too thick to walk through easily. A comfortable silence fell over the trio, with an unspoken agreement to stay put and wait it out... Somewhere during their waiting, Grace noticed that Hazel had fallen asleep. 

It was for the best... Grace wanted to talk to Simon alone.

"You said you remembered something- When the train came by."

"I did..." Simon sighed, "I remembered something-"

"... Can I ask what it was about?" Grace asked.

Simon paused, but after a moment, he spoke. "I... I still don't believe your Train, but something about the noise from a real one and being so distraught- I think it unlocked something..."

"Something? Like what?" 

"About when Hazel was born- During that missing year..." Simon admitted, eyes glancing down at his sleeping child. "Its going to sound crazy- But I- I think it had something to do with your Simon?"

Grace's heart leapt into her throat and she heard Hazel's breath catch, "W-what was it?"

"I think it was a dream I had- Its a bit of a long story, but-" 

"Simon, do you really think we have anywhere else to be today?" Grace forced a laugh between her tears, "G-go on..."

The blonde nodded. "... When Hazel was still in the hospital- I couldn't sleep-... I'd just sit in that hospital room for hours... It was always so quiet... Until one day it got to be too much... I hated the silence- so I went up to the roof just to get away from it all-..."

"And then what?" 

"I think I had this dream... The strangest dream while I was up there-"

.

.

.

7 Years Earlier...

A bitter wind whipped around the young father. The door handle burned his hand as it slipped from his fingers and slammed shut behind him. The sounds of bustling cars below him rang out in the once quiet night. He didn't mind it. Anything to keep him from the quiet...

His thoughts were always the loudest when it was quiet. For the last few days, he found his thoughts to be deafeningly loud. All reminders of his failures, as a husband and now a father. Barely 19 with a baby to raise and a funeral to plan. A cashier's salary wouldn't cover the cost of his child's future. It had been an unrealistic goal he had set to keep his dying wife's mind at peace... And now that she was gone-

"This was a mistake..." Simon muttered, glaring at the cars below him as they left the hospital. Anger and envy swelled in heart for the ones who got to leave while he remained trapped here. "This is all a mistake..."

The young man- no, the teenager playing adult, crawled onto the edge of the high wall of the roof and sat with his legs over the side. The bits of loose stone dug into the backs of his knees, but he found the pain to be dull. Nothing hurt more than the pain in his heart-

Grey eyes fell shut, and he listened carefully for a sign amongst the rushing cars. A sound- a voice- anything to tell him he was wrong.

Silence...

.

But then- "Don't be a worry baby-" A quiet voice sang out in the quiet. 

Grey eyes flashed open, and the young father looked about the roof for its source. He found no one. Just an empty roof and a busy parking lot down below... He turned back and shut his eyes again-

"No need to hurry baby, when you're with me..." This time, he kept his eyes shut. "Don't run way up ahead, take the long way instead. There's lot to see..."

Simon felt a smile tug at his lips, "T-that's a nice song..."

"Thank you." The voice whispered, so faint he was sure he had imagined it. "What are you up here for, Simon Laurent...?"

Simon gulped, "I... I had to get out of that room..." 

"Don't you think you should go back now?" The same voice asked. It sounded kind- almost motherly.

"No one would miss me if I stayed up a little longer..." Simon muttered, "My wife is gone- She's the only one who'd notice..."

"Not true... You have a baby now-" 

"Shes barely a week old... She doesn't even have a name yet-" A sniffle left him, "I can't help her... I'm only 19- I'm a cashier for crying out loud! I got married young and now I'm talking to someone who isn't real just so I don't have to talk to myself-"

A chuckle came, and Simon frowned deeply, "You remind me of a young man I knew once... Stubborn... Very narrow minded... He could only see the bad in every situation... I still had hopes for him, just like I had hopes for all of my children."

A scoff. "And let me guess... His name was also Simon Laurent?" 

"... Ironically, yes... Its more common of a name than you'd think ." 

"... And what happened to him?" The blonde scoffed, "Is this going to be some kind of tale where hes actually me and somehow turned everything around and lived happily ever after...?"

"No..." The voice was suddenly grave, "He was a very different person from you. He dug his own grave while he was alive... And died unhappily..."

"... That doesn't make me feel any better..." 

"Its not supposed to... " The voice turned as cold and as bitter as the air that surrounded them. "This is a warning... Your story could end here- on this roof with every bridge burned and you could be nothing to anyone... Just a Null... Not even zero...Or you can go back in and continue to write-"

Simon inhaled sharply through his nose. The frigid air burned his lungs terribly. "Nice metaphor... What am I supposed to do with it?"

"You tell me... What would you do if you went back in now?"

"Probably go insane? ... I don't know... Its too quiet in there..." He muttered. 

"You could always sing like I do... Or write a book... You could all it something stupid like "Esmoroth" or the like... Or-"

A loud, sarcastic laugh ripped itself from Simon's throat. "Did your other Simon write a book like that?"

"Yes... But its never existed in this world before." The voice mused.

"Thanks, but none of that is going to help me or my daughter-" 

"A baby girl...? Thats nice..." The voice sighed sadly. "You have a blessing, Simon."

Simon frowned, and dared to open an eye. Like before, he found no one... When the voice didn't reply, he shut his eyes again.

"... Why do you say it like that...?"

"Believe it or not- I envy you, Simon... I had a daughter once... Twice... I didn't have much time with either of them..."

"... What happened to them...?" From beside him, he suddenly felt a presence. Something large, now seated next to him on the ledge... He closed his eyes tighter and willed himself not to look.

"My first daughter- Bugal- passed away when she was very young... I'm blessed to have found my second child..." The voice paused, and Simon heard it tremble as it drew in a deep breath, "But she was taken from me when she was very small... By someone who felt so much anger that he couldn't love properly anymore... I worry about her everyday... I'd love to see her again- and I hope she is safe wherever she is now."

"I'm... I'm sorry to hear that..." Simon whispered, "I wouldn't know what that's like-"

"And I hope you never do..." The voice muttered, "I hope good things happen for you and your child..."

"... But why me? Isn't there someone else you could help?"

"There is... But of all the people in all the world, to exist at this very second- you just happened to also be a Simon Laurent, age 19, whose an utterly hopeless case..." A sad smile overtook the voice, "But I like you... And if my words have the chance to help just one Simon- It would help to finally put my soul at ease."

"... You must have been close with this other guy-" Simon sighed.

"Not at all... But I knew someone who was... Someone special..." The voice said. "She mourns him like you mourn your wife... It may not seem like it now, but one day- all of this will be behind you and her... And you'll both be very happy."

Simon felt his heart clench behind his ribs. It ached as it pumped blood throughout him. He felt sorrow for himself, anguish over the loss of his wife, and somewhere- deep down- he felt love for the child waiting for him back in that all too quiet room...

"You're only saying that to cheer me up..." 

Suddenly, the presence was gone from his side, and he felt it move towards the roof's exit. "No... I've said before that this is a warning... If you continue where you are now, someone will come and take you away from your child... Then you'll never know what your life could be like here in this world."

"But its hard-"

"You're grieving... You have a long road ahead, but believe me when I say that one day- you won't even remember this day- or this month- or even this year- and the pain it caused you... You might not even remember this conversation. But you will be happy again."

Grey eyes burned with tears. His head felt as though it were on fire... The cars from below were becoming far too loud. They sounded as though they were all racing for him... No- there was something bigger coming. Something that was still far off... Something big that would hit him if he didn't move now. "... If I go in- will things really be okay...?" 

"There's only one way to find out." The voice hummed, followed by the squeak of a heavy metal door as it opened. 

"I can't go in- it's too quiet-"

"And its too loud out here... Go in... You'll find something to fill the silence." He could hear a smile in the voice, "You can start by giving your daughter a name..." 

Without thinking, he nodded his head. Without opening his eyes, he lowered himself off of the edge and back on the roof. His legs were trembling, but they carried him to the door.

The warmth of a welcoming hospital awaited him just through that door... But first-

"Thank you... By the way..." He whispered, "... I'm... I'm not the best at names-... Can I use yours maybe?"

A gentle laugh echoed throughout the empty roof. "You wouldn't want my name..."

"Oh..." Simon swallowed thickly. H-how about one of your daughter's names...?

Silence followed his question. For an instance, he could almost hear the gears in the invisible figure's head as it seemed to mull things over...

"Hazel."

"Hazel... Hazel Laurent-..." He tested the name, watching as soft clouds left his lips as he sent into out into the cold air. "I like it..."

"There... Now go be good to her..." The voice had a bigger smile in it now. "Treat her like a princess..."

"I'll try..."

The bright lights of the stairwell burned his eyes as he stepped in from the cold. Before he had a chance to look over his shoulder at the figure, the heavy door slammed shut. Outside, he could still hear the loud cars, and whatever was out in the distance... But above it all, he heard the voice once last time... It followed him down the stairs.

"Don't be a worry baby... No need to hurry, baby.. When you're with me..."

.

.

.

Present Day:

"And thats all I remember about..." Simon's voice was barely above a whisper now. He looked at Grace with what she could only describe as hope in his eyes, "Does... Does that make any sense...?"

Grace felt tears prick the corners of her eyes. She knew so much more- could tell Simon so much about Tuba and the role she had briefly played in her life- but she found she could do little more than nod. Her chest felt fit to burst all over again. What the man thought was just a dream meant everything to her. 

Tuba was at peace, and a Simon and Hazel had survived, saved by a special denezin so they could be in the world to meet with Grace...

Without warning, a sob ripped itself from Grace's throat. It drew tears from Simon, and they gently held each other... And they cried. They cried from fear, pain, sadness, joy, relief- they held each other until their arms were sore and they couldn't cry anymore. 

They stayed at the humble station until the cold around them became too much... Then they stood on shaking legs, with a still sleeping Hazel held to Simon's chest, and began the long treck back home. The silence followed them, broken only by the faint roar of a charging Train as it barreled down the tracks behind them... 

Chapter Text

A magical train, 

A purple gorilla,

A cult of children,

And their false conductor-

All of it was so far away. They had runaway along their track a long time ago. They had left Grace Monroe in the dust. They had completely passed Simon Julius Laurent, and they had spared his daughter from ever having to get on to know all about them. 

None of them minded it. None of them looked back when they heard the Train as it rushed behind them. They returned home and opened their gifts and spent the rest of the day wrapped in a blanket, safe from the a threat that no longer existed. Grace finally had her answers, and that's all she could have wanted. 

Weeks went by since then. And soon months. So much time passed between then and now that by the time Grace looked up, Hazel was already an inch taller. 

It had been exactly one year to the date, that she had first laid eyes on this world's Simon. That she had been startled by the sound of his voice as he rang up her items at the grocery store. One year since she heard Tuba's song again, and 8 since she left the dreaded murder train for good. 

"Happy Anniversary." Simon teased beside her. 

They were on their private park bench, sharing a sandwich and watching as Hazel bravely swung from the monkey bars all on her own. Her pudgy belly hung from beneath her shirt, one that she insisted on wearing despite having clearly out grown in. Grace could see the pain in Simon's eyes as he watched her. His one and only child growing up before him. With a shake of her head, she laces their fingers together. 

"Happy Anniversary." She echoed back, sending it out to the universe for all she had ever known. "Its been a good year."

"A very good year." Simon hummed, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead. "Now where do we go from here?" 

"Who knows?" Grace sighed. 

Hazel fell from the monkey bars and landed in a soft patch of woodchips. She jumped up, brushed herself off and announced that she was okay before running off again. Grace smiled fondly, remembering a time when Simon was too nervous to let Hazel fall. Too nervous to ever do anything while others were watching... He had mellowed since then and grew with his daughter, as did Grace. 

She felt that despite her age, she had grown a little taller. Stood a little straighter. Her hair had gotten longer once, and she allowed it. Welcoming the change. And like Hazel, her belly had grown a little. Healthy snacks and whatever her mother forced her to eat having been replaced with a weekly trip to the donut shop and cookie eating contests with Hazel.

Not that she minded the bit of weight on her. She was healthy still. It was okay to indulge a little, espeically when you has someone to run after. Still, that didn't stop her mother from making assumptions. Constantly bombarding her with questions on when her last period was and when she could be expecting another grandchild... Hopefully not anytime soon! They had another vacation planned for the summer and she didn't want to miss it from morning sickness. 

Her free hand slid down to smooth her top over her belly and she sighed. A long time ago, she hadn't even considered children to be a possibility for her. When she first came back, she had even believed herself incapable of finding someone she'd be willing to lay down with and now... 

"Hey Simon?" 

"Yeah?"

"Do you ever think you'd want more kids?"

The man rose a quizzical eyebrow at her. His grey eyes glanced down at where her hand lay, and then back up to meet her own eyes. She watched his lips twitch a moment, going between a smile and a frown as he rubbed his furry face with his free hand. 

"Right now? Grace, we aren't even married yet-" He chuckled, and she knocked his shoulder. 

"No! I just mean, in general?" Grace pouted. 

"I mean... Yes? I suppose that's an option." He replied, "I haven't really thought of it much.... Have you?"

"Eh. I gave it some thought while we were sitting here... Though I will say, it's been nice not having to change any diapers in my life." Grace smirked, "I wouldn't mind continuing to not ever having to do that ever."

Simon snorted and covered his mouth, hiding his adorable laugh from her. "You and I both."

"So no kids it is then?" It was her turn to raise an eyebrow. 

"I never said that." Simon hummed between snickers, "It would be nice to have another royal in Esmoroth." His face then turned serious. "It wouldn't be for a while though- We'd still have to get married and talk to Hazel about i-"

"Why do we 'have' to get married?" Grace frowned, "Its the 21st century."

"Because I'm a good Catholic boy and it wouldn't feel right otherwise." Simon pouted, a smirk tugging at his lips. "And... Its what she would have wanted."

"Your horrible mother?" Grace asked, before adding "God rest her soul, but come on."

"N-no! As if I give two shots about what mom would have wanted." Simon shook his head. A few strands of hair falling loose from his ponytail as he did. "If I did, then I wouldn't have kept you around all this time."

"Then wh-" A pause, "You mean Clarissa... Don't you?"

A nod, "Its one of the things she hoped for me before she-"

"You don't have to say it." Grace's lips quirked into an innocent smile, "I understand.... We're going to see her later on, right? We can ask her then."

"Oh crap- you're right!" Simon jumped up from his spot on the bench and cupped his hands around his mouth, "HAZEL! TIME TO GO SWEETIE!"

"Aww! Already?" The 8 year old called as she stood at the top of the slide, "One more slide?"

"One more, but then we have to go see your mommy!" Simon called and Hazel gasped. The little one practically jumped down the slide and raced over to the adults. 

She then gathered up a mess of dandelions and other various flowers she had collected on their way over, including a single poison ivy leaf. "Lets go! We can't keep her waiting all day!" 

Grace shook her head kindly and stood with the Laurents. She once again found Simon's hand and laces their fingers together. Hazel's own sweaty one looped around hers and they all walked together in silence. The peaceful kind of quiet that follows you when you're with someone you love and have so much to say and yet nothing at all. It stayed this way during the 20 minute walk from the park to the cemetery.

A warm breeze greet them at the gate as they entered. It didn't take long for them to find the person they came to see. 

Clarissa Laurent 

Loving wife and mother

1995-2013 

"Do you think she'll like the flowers?" Hazel whispered, breaking the 20 minute silence. 

"I'm sure she'll love them, monkey." Simon whispered back. 

Grace released the child's hand and watched as she took off running, Happy to greet her mother and leave her her gift. 

"Happy Anniversary, momma." Hazel said sweetly, gently stroking the headstone. "I hope you're doing lots of happy things in Heaven, because we're doing a lot down here too! Daddy's head is better, I'm taller, and Ms. Grace and I have a big ballet show coming up!"

"Don't forget our vacation." Grace laughed.

"Oh yeah! We're going back to Disneyworld too!" Hazel giggled, "Hopefully daddy doesn't throw up on the plane... Anyway, I'm gonna go see grandma now. I'll be right back. Love you and I miss you a lot-" She ended the sentence with a soft kiss to the worn stone before taking off. Simon watched her a moment with sad eyes, and Grace knew the little one needed a moment to be by herself now. 

Happiness only lasted so long.

"She's a brave little girl..." Grace muttered.

"She needs to know her mom." Simon sighed, "And this is the first year of her life I've been to give her that."

"That wasn't your fault." Grace reminded him, gently pushing him towards the grave. "Go on then. Go talk to your wife."

Simon smiled softly and walked to the humble grave. He knelt in front of it, and wiped away a few vines that had grown at the base. "Hey Classy... Sorry it's been a while... Its been a difficult time- the last 8 years. But you'd be proud of me. I kept Hazel in one piece, and since last year I've made progress with a few things... I wish you could've been here to see all that, but then things wouldn't have turned out the way they did... That sounds awful, but- I know you'd be happy either way. You always were the type to see the brighter side of things and- thank you for that. That you for Hazel and being there for me during my highs and lows... You're still the first girl whose ever stolen my heart and I love you to this day..."

"Thats beautiful, Simon." Grace muttered, joining him down in front of the grave and squeezing his shoulders. 

"You don't mind it?" He muttered, wiping his eyes on his coat sleeve. 

"Eh. My love isn't fragile." She smiled, looking at the etching on the stone. "I'm not in competition with the true Mrs. Laurent."

"Thank you, Grace." A Watery smile, and a kiss to her cheek. Simon rose to his feet seconds later. And Grace knew that look.

"Go ahead. It's okay." She said, "I'll be here until you two get back."

A nod, and Simon left her side to go be with Hazel. Just like he always did. They needed a chance to grieve together without her. She knew that. So she folded her legs under her and got comfortable, knowing this would be a while.

"Hey, Clarissa... I know we haven't met before and this might be weird, but it feels like I'm talking to an old friend... I- I didn't have a lot of those growing up. Heck, I didn't have a lot even when I had friends but, that doesn't matter now. My life is full now and you made that happen without ever being a part of it. I love your husband and daughter with everything I have and I'm so blessed to get to be a part of their story... I promise you, I'll take care of them and I'll make sure Hazel knows everything she can about you... I'm not your replacement, just like your Simon and Hazel aren't replacing mine... But I'm sure you knew that already."

A pause, and Grace choked back tears, "I hope Tuba is up there with you now- with her daughter and everyone else. I hope you two can rest easy now and-... I love all of you... Thank you."

Beyond her line of sight, she could hear Simon and Hazel. They were giggling sadly as they told jokes to try and make the other laugh. She smiled faintly and stood so she could see them better. They joined her shortly after and they all bid farewell to Clarissa together before walking back to the gate. Before they left, however, Grace lingered behind.

"Come on, Ms. Grace- Its time to go and get icecream!" Hazel called over her father's shoulder. 

"Just a second- I'll catch up!" Grace called. She watched as the duo nodded and walked ahead.

Then she stood in the clearing, the warm wind rushing about her as she did. It tickled her skin and ruffled her hair and the bit of cold on the edges reminded her that it would be autumn again soon. She smiled faintly at the reminder. The reminder that this was real and she had made it this far. 

"Thank you... All of you... For everything."

With a final breath, she stepped out through the gates and rejoined her little family.