Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

It started simply, with just one little mistake, but that was all it took. Way had gone outside with Martin to watch over the pup as he played with some of his collection of nerf guns, practicing his special ability. The pup hadn’t inherited a mental power from either of his parents, instead having Accuracy. Though neither he nor Pete had ever told Martin to practice, the boy absolutely loved shooting games and anything where he got to use his enhanced aim and reflexes. After getting bored of shooting at various targets and objects with the foam darts, Martin ran up to Way and asked him to throw a ball for him to try to hit.

It had been going well. Martin wasn’t as good at hitting moving targets as the still boards and things he aimed at, but he really enjoyed it, giggling at every miss and cheering loudly whenever the darts managed to graze the ball. He shouted different requests for each throw, mostly demanding higher tosses or for a certain direction. After getting a glancing hit, Martin laughed and asked that the next throw be faster. Way obliged, but misjudged how hard he threw it. It flew over Martin’s head, and the pup tripped and fell as he spun around to try and aim.

Way hurried over to check on him. Martin was perfectly fine, laughing as Way pulled him up.

The wooden amulet necklace Martin always wore had cracked in half, the only thing harmed when the boy had fallen. Martin was disappointed when he saw it had broken, saying that his aunt and uncle had gotten it for him. Way knew Pete’s unofficial adoptive relatives had invited them to visit abroad once Martin’s school year was over in a few months, so he told Martin he would probably get another amulet then if he asked for it, as his reward for graduating his first year of kindergarten. That had cheered the boy right up, and Way pocketed the broken pieces, which he threw out later.

Way hadn’t thought the necklace was anything special. Pete’s aunt and uncle lived in the Caribbean, and it didn’t look like the average amulet, so he didn’t think it was a real one from a temple. The front of it had a standard carving of Buddha, but the back had a drawing of a buffalo, which Martin said while showing it to Way that an uncle had added on the day he got it. It was a nice little replica, on a gold chain that Way strung a ring onto as replacement so Martin would be happy continuing to wear the chain.

They went back to playing, and neither of them thought to mention it again. Pete didn’t bring it up either, only complimenting Martin on the ring, and that just cemented Way’s belief that the amulet was nothing special, just a gift that Martin had been attached to.

He forgot about it by the next day.

Until Martin started mentioning his grandfather, and they realized Pete’s relatives had forgotten to fully mention an aspect of Martin’s ability that had developed and quickly been handled during the year he lived with them.

-

It took a while before Way noticed something was abnormal about Martin. At first, it just seemed like a standard part of Martin growing up, that his sleep schedule had started to change. He started waking up soon after being put to bed and playing with his toys, and not falling asleep until later, then being more tired when he woke up in the morning. On weekends, he slept in later than ever. Pete attributed it to Martin beginning to grow out of his need for a nap at home after school, and Way thought that sounded reasonable. Martin was almost five now, so the second nap after his one earlier at school was no doubt giving him too much energy. Pete suggested they cut out the second nap entirely, so they did.

Martin was having trouble adjusting to it, getting a little grumpy each night as it neared his bedtime, but they were sure it wouldn’t take long before he settled into the new routine.

After wrangling Martin into his pajamas and getting him to brush his teeth after the pup wanted to just go straight to bed when it reached his bedtime, Way let Martin climb into bed and curl up under his blanket. Martin hadn’t been resistant to his evening routine before, and always followed it very well and sometimes without any prompting, but for the past few days all he’d wanted to do was just get in bed regardless of what he was wearing or whether or not he’d brushed his teeth. They were hoping that it’d be sooner rather than later that the pup would bounce back to enjoying the routine, since Way and Pete both missed when Martin would happily demand bedtime stories and hugs every night instead of just wanting to go straight to sleep.

Pete came in as well to wish Martin a goodnight and give him a kiss on the forehead. “Do you want Papa and Mama to read you a story?” he offered, hopeful.

Martin looked at the book sitting on his nightstand, eyes wide and full of yearning. It seemed like he finally wanted to agree, but then he turned away and shook his head.

Disappointed and with nothing else to do, Way and Pete shut Martin’s light off and closed his door part way. Glancing through the gap, Way could see Martin had already fallen asleep, holding onto a stuffed animal.

“Do you think he’ll wake up? I hate that you have to tell him not to play with his toys every night.” Way could not bring himself to be the one scolding Martin. It was hard enough watching Pete do it. But it was necessary. Martin wasn’t getting enough sleep when he stayed up to play and chat with his plushies.

“He seems really tired tonight. I think he’s getting used to it.”

They went back to the living room, leaving Martin to sleep.

Soon after, as the moon shone bright but not full in the sky, Martin woke up to the quiet call of his name.

“Martin, my son, wake up. I’m here.”

Yawning, Martin sat up and rubbed his eyes. He looked up at the person sitting on the edge of his bed. “Hi, Grandpa Tony.”

His grandfather smiled at him, reaching over to pat his head, though Martin couldn’t feel it, as his grandfather’s hand only phased through where it tried to touch. “How are you, son? Did you do well at school today?”

“Uh-huh. I’m sleepy, Grandpa… Can I go back to bed? Papa doesn’t want me to stay up after bedtime.”

Shaking his head, Martin’s grandfather frowned. “But you know I can only speak with you at night, son.”

“I know… But I’m tired.”

“And I’m so lonely when you don’t speak to me, Martin. It’s not very fair to your grandfather that you let him be sad like that.”

Martin looked down, ashamed. “I don’t want Grandpa to be sad.”

His grandfather put a hand on his knee. Martin went to touch it, but his little hand just went through. The weight of his own hand sort of made it seem like his grandfather was actually touching him. He wished his grandfather could, so he could feel the headpats and little touches the man tried to give him, and so he could hug him the way he did to all his family. “You’re the only one that Grandpa can talk to, because of your special ability. And I can only come visit you at night. You wouldn’t want me to stop visiting you.”

It wasn’t a question, but Martin agreed. The thought of his grandfather never seeing him again made him uneasy. He didn’t want anyone else in his family to go away from him again. “I like seeing you, Grandpa. Don’t stop, please!”

“That’s a good boy.”

“But, um… if I told Papa I was waking up to talk to Grandpa, then Papa wouldn’t be mad.”

His grandfather sighed, giving him a look that made him wilt. “Martin… You promised me. Good boys don’t break their promises.”

“I’m sorry, Grandpa Tony. I won’t do it.”

“Your fathers can’t be told that Grandpa is visiting you, Martin,” his grandfather reminded him, voice firm. “They would make me go away. You don’t want me to go away.”

“But why would Papa and Mama do that? You’re nice to me! I like telling you about Papa and Mama and P’Babe.”

“And I love when you tell me about them. Grandpa misses them a lot. But your parents don’t know that,” his grandfather explained. “They think ghosts like me are a bad thing, like the scary ones that you told me about from when you didn’t live with your father.” He leaned in and whispered, “They think that I’ll hurt you.”

“You wouldn’t!” Martin insisted.

His grandfather smiled at him. “You’re so smart. You’re even smarter than your fathers.” Martin beamed at the praise. “That’s why our conversations have to be our little secret. You can’t tell anyone that I talk to you, even if you get scolded.”

“I promise I won’t tell Papa and Mama about you, Grandpa. I don’t want you to leave.”

-

The house they’d moved into after Way got out of the hospital had a small but intricate spirit house already built in the yard. Being that he and Pete had grown up in the Chen Family Foundation, and then went abroad and started racing respectively, neither had turned out to be spiritual at all, so it wasn’t a habit to tend to it. The gardener and housekeeper were the ones maintaining it, occasionally replacing the offerings inside every once in a while and keeping it clean, but other than that it was largely ignored.

When Martin came up with a juice box and a fruit in his hand from one of the trees in the yard and asked Way if he could help him put them in the spirit house, Way figured that Martin had seen the gardener doing it one day and wanted to try it himself. The pup was always curious, so Way found a step that Martin could stand on so he could reach inside. Martin carefully placed the fruit onto the empty plate inside, then squeezed part of his juice box into the cup in it.

Satisfied, Martin hopped down and went back to the fruit tree to pull off for himself some of the little marian plums that he could reach.

Way thought that would be the only time Martin interacted with the spirit house, so he was surprised when Martin went to give it another fruit the next day after he came home from school.

Then again the next morning. After a few days, it’d just become part of Martin’s new routine. He seemed much happier and more alert after putting fresh food and juice into the spirit house despite how tired and grumpy he was every morning after being woken up, so Way and Pete were glad to give him some when he asked or to quickly wash the plate and cup when he brought them in to be cleaned.

It rained one morning on the weekend, but Martin still insisted on going out. Since Pete had gone into work for an important meeting and Way had let Martin sleep in, Way couldn’t foist off talking Martin out of it onto the older Enigma. He tried convincing Martin that it’d be fine if he skipped a day, then had backtracked at the pup’s unimpressed look and suggested he wait until the rain stopped. For a moment he thought Martin was considering it, but then Martin had grabbed his juice and the mango slices he’d been given for part of his breakfast and headed for the door by himself, intending to walk out into the rain. Way quickly found an umbrella and stopped him, lifting up the child and carrying him to the spirit house to keep him from getting wet.

Going out into the rain was at least worth it to see how happy Martin looked as he finished putting down the offerings. Martin giggled and told him, “Thank you, Mama!”

“You still like doing this, huh?”

“Yeah! The little house ghosts really like it, so I’m gonna do it everyday! They like sweet stuff the best!”

Way couldn’t recall he or Pete ever mentioning exactly what the spirit house was for to the pup. Martin had never asked. He supposed Martin must have learned about it at school or from some book he’d read.

-

They didn’t realize Martin’s sleeping troubles were a warning sign, and it got missed. The next biggest red flag was glaringly obvious in hindsight, but also missed as well.

Martin hummed as he worked on a picture, crayons and markers sprawled around him on the floor. His teacher had suggested that Way try to get Martin to do some high energy play to get him to sleep through the night. But Martin had looked miserable when Way suggested they go to a playground after Martin finished his homework, and had rejected Way’s offering of his favorite Nerf gun toys, saying they were boring.

It was so unlike Martin to not jump at the chance to practice his ability, which he loved doing, that Way was worried. Martin loved his Nerf guns and was never bored of them. He’d texted Pete asking him to set an appointment for Martin to see his pediatrician, and soon Pete sent back the time and date.

Martin had wandered over to the couch and sat down after a few more rejected suggestions, flopping back against it. He’d put the TV on, but soon started dozing off.

Believing that Martin taking a nap would just worsen his sleep schedule if there wasn’t any illness-related reason causing everything, Way had woken him and suggested that they draw together instead. The low energy activity was accepted, and Martin seemed to be staying awake well as he focused on his drawing.

When Martin finished his drawing, he proudly showed it to Way. While Pete was an expert at deciphering Martin’s kindergarten skill level drawings, Way was still working on it. He was good at recognizing when Martin drew their family and Banzai, and most of the time could accurately guess when Martin drew Babe or Charlie (provided that there was either a car in the picture or that Charlie had his glasses), and sometimes could pick out the other members of the team and some of the characters from Martin’s favorite shows.

This time Way could tell which crayon figures were himself and Pete, Martin holding their hands between them. Banzai was on the outside next to Pete, but there was someone else in the picture holding Way’s other hand. He had no idea who it was supposed to be, and tried to think of anyone Martin knew with longer hair. It should have been easy, since Martin had labeled the picture in both Thai and English with ‘My family!’ in big letters on the top of the paper. Martin had a very limited number of relatives.

After praising the drawing, Way asked, “Who’s this person holding my hand?”

“That’s Grandpa!”

He’d never heard Martin call anyone that. So it must have been one of Pete’s relatives or their close friends. The only two people Way knew on that side of Martin’s ‘family’ were the former CEO of Beyond Group and his wife who had helped Pete find his footing in the real world after escaping from the Foundation, who Martin called Uncle and Auntie.

“Huh. Maybe you can show Grandpa the picture the next time you see him.”

“Okay! I’m gonna put it in my room so I remember!”

-

While he’d stopped playing with his nerf guns and other shooting toys during the day, Martin couldn’t escape them at night. They weren’t any fun anymore, he thought, not when he couldn’t use them outside or play games with them.

But his grandfather had told him it was important for him to practice his ability, that his parents had done it too since they were even younger than he was. And it made his grandfather happy when he did well, so Martin tried his best to do well for his grandfather.

He was proud of Martin for doing good at school, and had liked the picture Martin drew of him, telling him to keep it tucked under a box in his closet so that it wouldn’t ever get lost. Since his grandfather couldn’t talk to anyone else and was lonely if Martin ignored him, Martin supposed it was the nice thing to do to practice for a while every night, even if he was very tired. His papa always took good care of him even when he was tired from a long day at work, and his mama did as well. It was simply what family was supposed to do to take good care of each other, which his grandfather had explained to him.

Martin tried not to complain much about how tired he was. His grandfather always got a bit mad when he did, and he’d have to listen to the whole lecture again about how he wasn’t being very nice, which always made him feel bad. He didn’t want to be a bad kid, he wanted to be a good one.

So even though he was falling asleep, Martin trudged over and grabbed his little bow. His grandfather was more impressed by that than the Nerf guns he used to aim at targets. He reached in the back of his closet for the three arrows he used at night. His grandfather had told him to pull off the foam tips on the end, leaving them with just the round plastic underneath. His papa always told him he had to use his foam arrows and darts when he was playing by himself, so he’d hidden the three so he wouldn’t get in trouble.

He wasn’t doing anything bad by using them without the foam, since his grandfather was with him, but his parents wouldn’t know that if they caught him.

“Try aiming from further away, son,” his grandfather told him as he yawned. “Hit that toy over there. The dog one.” He gestured to a plushie sitting on top of Martin’s dresser, all the way across his room.

He didn’t really want to fire at the dog toy, since it looked so much like his uncles’ dog, and he would never try to aim at Bibi or any other dog. But it wasn’t Bibi, just a toy, and his arrows never hurt his toys.

Martin took aim, but having to yawn again made him miss the shot. He rubbed his eyes and looked over. His grandfather was frowning at him, his brows furrowed.

“Again,” his grandfather demanded. His tone startled Martin. When he’d gotten mad at him before, his voice had gotten all firm like a teacher’s, but he’d never sounded scary before. He didn’t get why his grandfather would be really mad. He was his family, and family always had to try to be nice to each other.

Martin frowned, worried. “Grandpa? Are you okay?”

“Be quiet. Again. You need to train.”

It made him feel bad, the way his grandfather was speaking to him. Martin kind of felt like crying. But maybe if he tried harder, his grandfather would be happy again. His grandfather had told him his ability would be easy for him to get good at, because he was an Enigma and that meant he was special. It was much better when his grandfather was telling him nice things like that.

His hands shook a bit when he aimed again, and again the arrow missed the toy, simply bouncing off of the wall.

Before Martin could apologize for missing and load up the final arrow before he’d need to go grab the others, his grandfather stomped towards him. “You useless boy! Why is this so hard for you?! You’re Enigma!”

Martin burst into tears, dropping his bow. “I- I’m s-sorry, Grandpa…!” he sobbed. “I’m really really sorry!”

”Stop crying! Pick that up!”

He tried his best, but he couldn’t. He stood there, whimpering.

“Listen to me, boy. Pick that up this instant.”

”I’m tired… I can’t do it!”

His grandfather growled, and Martin backed away from him. The dark look on the ghost’s face was unlike any look he’d had before. It made his grandfather seem like some kind of stranger.

Or some kind of monster.

Martin remembered something his aunt and uncle had told him before he went back to live with his parents: if a ghost was mean to him or started to scare him, then something was wrong with it that he wouldn’t be able to help with. Only the grown-ups like the uncle who had sometimes visited him could make the ghosts feel better.

Since he couldn’t help, they’d made him promise that if a ghost was mean, then he wouldn’t talk to it. That would make things better until someone could help.

His parents had said they would go see his aunt and uncle after he was done with school soon. Maybe the special uncle would be able to help his grandfather then. All he needed to do to be good until then was ignore his grandfather when he got scary, since it meant he wasn’t feeling well.

It was sort of like what had happened when his mama had sometimes gotten sick when he had too many grown-up drinks, Martin thought. His papa had told him that he couldn’t really help, since it was a problem for grown-ups, but that things would get better. When his mama hadn’t been sick, Martin made sure to be good for him and let him know he loved him, and that had helped. But he had to let his papa take care of his mama when it wasn’t okay.

It’d only happened early on after his mama had moved in with them, and now things were all better. He hoped it would work like that with his grandfather, that things would get all better as long as Martin listened to what he’d been told, just like with Mama. He’d be extra good to his grandfather when he wasn’t sick, Martin promised to himself.

Martin gathered up his toys and put them back in the closet, not listening to his grandfather as he ordered him not to do that. He climbed back into bed and pulled up his blanket.

“You ungrateful boy. Why are you ignoring me?”

“Sick ghosts get scary and I promised not to talk to scary ghosts so I’m not gonna until you feel better. Night-night, Grandpa. I love you.”

“What?” His grandfather’s voice suddenly went back to normal. “Martin, my son, I’m not like one of those scary ghosts you told me about. Please, don’t ignore Grandpa.”

He couldn’t really remember it clearly since he’d been so little, but Martin thought that there’d been one ghost that had tried to act like there wasn’t anything wrong, but then his aunt and uncle had taken him to see the uncle that could help ghosts. He felt like something bad had happened. Ghosts couldn’t touch him, though, so he wasn’t sure what. Maybe it had yelled at him, like his grandfather had.

Martin pulled his blanket over his head. Maybe his grandfather would feel better if they both went to sleep. Then he could talk to him again. His grandfather tried telling him that there was nothing wrong, but after a while, he stopped talking to him and Martin finally fell asleep, hearing his grandfather mutter to himself from somewhere else in the room.

He didn’t sleep well at all, waking up from bad dreams a few times and feeling too warm under his blanket, so he was just as tired in the morning as he would have been if he’d been practicing. The housekeeper, who was sometimes his nanny when his parents weren’t home, scolded him for playing again, but then just sighed and helped him get ready for school when he didn’t respond. His parents had gone into work already, which made him feel sad. He wanted to see them so he didn’t have to think about his grandfather being a ghost with something wrong.

The next night, it was the same. His grandfather spent a while telling him things were all better, and Martin believed him. But when he missed again, he was yelled at, and Martin tried not to cry too much as he hid under his blanket again.

After another night, Martin realized that his grandfather wasn’t getting any better yet, even though he wasn’t as see-through as before, which Martin had thought was a good sign. He wished he could tell his parents, but they wouldn’t be able to help. His grandfather had told him before he got sick that his parents would just get rid of him. So that must have been the truth. Martin didn’t want that to happen. He would just have to wait to see his aunt and uncle so they could help instead, so his grandfather wouldn’t have to go away and Martin could tell him stories instead and get nice help with his ability. So he simply stopped talking to his grandfather, even though it made him really sad.

It obviously made his grandfather sad too, because his grandfather started to talk to him more and more even when he’d used to let him sleep quietly, trying to convince him not to ignore him. Having his grandfather right near him talking all night made it even harder to sleep.

-

Way was practically counting down the hours to Martin’s doctor’s appointment as the pup went from being grumpy and fussy to being sullen and quiet so quickly between the initial call and the actual date of it. Now it really seemed like something was physically wrong. Even Pete was worried, but since Martin seemed otherwise fine and was at least happy in the mornings while tending to the spirit house, they decided to stick with the original appointment. Otherwise, they would have to find a different doctor to look at Martin, and they felt that Martin would be more comfortable with the doctor he liked, at the clinic he knew from his physicals and minor illnesses.

The potential of Martin going back to being fussy and throwing a fit at some strange new doctor’s office was too much of a risk. He wouldn’t be able to be properly examined if he was having a tantrum. Neither of them wanted Martin to go through any excess stress.

It was just two more days, on the weekend. Way wished the appointment hadn’t been set so far away, but Martin’s usual doctor had been on vacation out of the country, and they’d been hopeful that it was just the sleep schedule thing and that with just a bit more time it would resolve before the doctor got back.

Instead, it’d gotten worse.

Way sighed and tried not to think about it. The more he did, the more it seemed like time was passing by even slower than ever. He looked over from where he’d been absentmindedly mixing together a little bit of leftovers on the stove for Martin as an after school snack. Martin was working on his homework, sitting at the kitchen counter.

Usually, Martin would talk when he did his homework, always eager to tell his parents or nanny about what had happened during school. He was silent as he worked on the paper.

It made the whole house seem quiet and empty while Pete was at work. Unless he had the pup right close by and was actually looking at him, Way felt unbearably lonely, even if Martin was home.

The food was ready, so Way transferred it to a bowl and brought it to Martin. He sat next to him, putting a hand on his back. The loneliness eased up, but not his anxiety. That wouldn’t go away until Martin was back to his usual cheerful self. For now, Way pulled Martin’s chair towards his own so he could be even closer to the pup.

He looked down at Martin’s homework. It had a little family tree on it, with only three levels to it. Martin had already added his own name and a little drawing of his face on it, as well as his parents’, and had even drawn an extra line connecting Pete and Kenta as siblings. He was working on adding Pete’s other relatives to that side, putting Pete’s aunt and uncle in place of where Martin’s paternal grandparents would go.

“Mama, how do you spell ‘adopted?’” Martin asked after putting those two down. Way spelt it for him, and Martin wrote it over the line connecting them to Pete.

“Oh. That’s so smart of you for putting that down, cub.” He looked over at his own side of the family tree. He supposed Martin could put Alan there in place of a father, or draw a sibling line. Martin brought his pencil to the space that would mark one of Way’s parents, then paused.

Instead of asking about Alan, Martin frowned a bit and then asked, “Would Grandpa Tony go here?”

Way felt his heart skip a beat and a little wave of dizziness wash over him as his pup said a name he couldn’t possibly know, one he was absolutely never supposed to have heard before. “What…?”

He must have misheard. Way was stressed and anxious because there was something wrong with his pup and his mate wasn’t home yet to make him feel like things weren’t completely helpless. So he’d misheard.

But he hadn’t. Martin just said it again, “Grandpa Tony. He’s Mama’s Daddy, right? But Grandpa Tony is Papa’s Daddy and Uncle Ken’s Daddy too… but Mama and Papa aren’t brothers…” Martin moved his pencil between both spots, pouting. “Where do I put Grandpa, Mama?”

Way thought he might be sick. He grabbed Martin’s pencil and quickly scrawled on his side that he didn’t have parents and had grown up in and aged out of foster care without ever being adopted, then got up and put the paper in Martin’s backpack.

“Mama?” Martin called after him. “My homework…”

“It’s all done, pup. I don’t have parents. Pete and I told you that.”

“But… Grandpa Tony…?”

Way put his hand on the doorway, gripping it tightly. “He wasn’t my actual-” He couldn’t bring himself to say it. Pete had finally gotten him out of that mindset he’d been in in the Foundation, and now he was scared to ever slip back. “He didn’t actually adopt me.”

“But Mama was at the orphanage like Papa and Uncle Ken when you were little like Martin.”

“I didn’t live with him in that orphanage with Pete and Kenta. I lived somewhere else that he owned.”

“Oh.”

Way took a deep breath and went over to lift Martin off of the chair. Martin was usually good at getting up and down from it, but he’d been more clumsy lately. His hands and knees were always getting bruised or pink. His hands looked much better the past few days, but his knees sported some colorful bruises from the last time he’d fallen down from the high barstool chair he liked doing his homework on. Way ushered Martin into the living room and brought him to the couch.

“How about you eat your snack and then take a nap? I’ll get your bowl.” Martin brightened up at the now usually forbidden offer of a nap and climbed onto the couch. Way gave him his food and turned on the TV, and Martin snuggled up against him. After eating part of the bowl, Martin dozed off, looking exhausted but peaceful.

It was so nice to see Martin looking so content that Way wished he could just stay there and watch him. But he needed to use the opportunity to make a phone call while the boy was asleep. Way moved Martin so the pup was laying down and got him tucked in under a light blanket. Then he got up and pulled out his phone, dialing a number he hadn’t called in a long time. He left the living room and headed for his bedroom, closing the door so Martin wouldn’t be able to overhear his call at all.

After a few rings, Babe answered his phone, asking, “Way? You’re calling?”

“You told Martin about Tony?!” Way exploded into the phone, absolutely furious. He couldn’t believe Babe had dared to mention their foster father in front of Martin. He and Pete had been so careful to never mention that man in front of the pup, only ever talking about things from the Foundation when it was just the two of them. Way didn’t want Martin to ever find out, while Pete said he’d rather Martin not find out until he was old enough to properly understand the severity of everything involved.

“What? What the fuck are you talking about?”

“Martin just asked me where he was supposed to put Tony on his family tree homework!”

“Holy shit. It wasn’t me, I swear, Way! I wouldn’t do that. That kid is way too young to hear about a bastard like that.”

“Well if it wasn’t you, then who? It wouldn’t be Charlie or Kenta. Charlie’s too good with Martin, and Kenta only goes near Martin when Pete is there. And Martin’s never been near North or Sonic without you or Charlie.”

“They wouldn’t say shit like that near a kid, Way. And I would have heard them. They didn’t.”

He was running out of options. “I didn’t mean it like that! I’m just trying to think of who it could have been! Pete makes sure Martin isn’t nearby with his ability if we ever do mention him. It wasn’t at home.”

“Your housekeeper or whatever didn’t say anything to him?”

“She doesn’t know. All she knows is that Pete and I both went through foster care. I’m pretty sure she thinks Pete and Kenta are actual brothers or something.”

Babe sighed. “What the hell… who else knows that the kid talks to? Jeff wouldn’t call him your family. It wasn’t him. Kim refuses to even let Kenta call Tony any word close to father, so not him either…”

“Martin did say Tony was mine, Pete, and Kenta’s daddy. Who would call him that?”

In the background, Way heard Charlie asking Babe if everything was okay, that he’d heard him sounding upset. Babe quickly updated Charlie on the conversation and put the phone on speaker so the three of them could figure it out together.

“Hm. Maybe… Martin stayed over at P'Alan’s place for a weekend once, right? P'Kenta was there at the same time,” Charlie suggested.

Their reactions were immediate. “Uncle wouldn’t!” Babe snapped.

“Not P'Alan. And neither would Kenta,” Way added, equally as appalled by the suggestion.

“Not on purpose!” Charlie explained, voice pitching nervously. “But P’Alan and P'Kenta are close now. Maybe Martin overheard them talking.”

It sounded reasonable. Everyone calmed down. “I’ll call Alan.”

“Don’t yell at him like you did to me. He wouldn’t have done it on purpose.”

“I know. I just- I thought-”

Charlie interrupted before Way could try to explain his ‘greeting.’ “How’s Martin doing? I asked Pete if Martin wanted to come by during this race weekend and he turned me down immediately. Is he feeling alright?”

“Not really. He has a doctor’s appointment in two days. He hasn’t been himself at all. We don’t know what’s wrong.”

-

Alan denied being the one to expose Martin to a mention of Tony, saying that while he’d spoken to Kenta a little bit about things of that nature, it had never been while Martin was around. Way felt at a complete loss, explaining that if that wasn’t it, he really had no idea who possibly could have said something. Alan suggested one of Pete’s employees, but Way really didn’t feel like that was the case. Pete didn’t leave Martin alone with anyone when he brought him to the Beyond Group building, and he couldn’t imagine one of them bringing it up to Martin if they were somehow alone with him. Hearing how upset he sounded, Alan said maybe there was a potential that it was him, but Way knew he was just saying that to try to comfort him.

Still at a dead end, Way said goodbye to Alan and hung up. He went back to the living room. Martin was sound asleep as Way lifted him so he could instead sit with his legs on the beanbag chair and Martin on his lap. Drained from the phone calls, Way decided to just let Martin sleep for as long as he wanted, or until Pete got home. He was going to have to ask the boy where he’d heard about his grandfather when he woke up, and Way was dreading it.

He had a bad feeling that he really wouldn’t like the answer. Whoever it was in their close social circle, Way was going to have to yell at them, and he didn’t want to. Things were already so difficult, trying to mend his relationships with his former pack. This felt like it was going to be a big setback. He took a deep breath. Maybe he could just find out who it was and then tell Pete to go take care of things. Then he wouldn’t have to risk losing his temper on the culprit.

Though, he was really upset about it. Whoever had let it slip did deserve to be yelled at, at least a little. They had made him snap at Babe and accuse Alan. Maybe he could bring Pete along to keep him from going too far. Pete was good at reigning him in.

So they stayed there together for a few hours. Martin eventually woke up on his own, looking groggy. He yawned and rubbed his eyes as he sat up. Then he just stayed like that for a moment, bleary. Way pet his hair, hoping that the boy wouldn’t get fussy or upset.

Thankfully, Martin hadn’t woken in a poor mood. He mumbled that he had to use the bathroom and wandered off. When he returned, he climbed back onto Way’s lap and got ready to curl up and go back to sleep.

Way shifted Martin so he couldn’t lay down just yet. “Pup, I need to ask you something.”

“Okay.”

Way was really dreading the answer. “Martin… where did you hear about Grandpa Tony?”

For a moment, Martin just stared at him, eyes big and round. The pup blinked, then looked away. He fiddled with his fingers, hesitating. “Um… um…” He went to say something, then looked guilty, the way he did whenever he tried to lie. “Mama…” he whined quietly, hugging him.

And now the pup was trying to avoid telling him. Way didn’t like that at all. He moved the boy back and held his shoulders so Martin couldn’t try cuddling his way out of answering his question.

“Martin. Tell me who told you about him. This is important.”

Huffing, Martin tried wiggling away. Way tightened his hold. “I don’t wanna. Wanna go down. Mama, down.”

“No. Tell me and then you can be put down.”

Martin paused for a moment, thinking, but then shook his head. “No!”

“Why won’t you tell me? Did someone tell you not to say anything?”

The guilty look was back. Someone had told him not to tell. But Way couldn’t imagine who could have convinced Martin to keep a secret from him. He and Pete were supposed to be Martin’s favorite people. Well, Pete was supposed to be, and Way had been very happy and quite confident that he was in second place in the pup’s eyes now that they’d adapted to being a proper little family. Now he wasn’t sure, and that hurt. He’d been trying so hard to be a good mate and parent.

“I wanna get up, Mama.”

“Just tell me. Pete is just going to ask you later if you don’t answer me now.”

Martin was still a little young to totally grasp Pete’s powers, but he at least understood that it was impossible to keep secrets from Pete. Though Pete did his best to avoid using his powers on Martin, wanting the pup to develop proper communication skills and to learn how to express his emotions just like any other child, for something like this Pete would surely go right ahead and use them.

“I don’t wanna! It’s a secret! I promised!” Martin said loudly. He managed to pull one shoulder free, so Way grabbed his arms instead. “Papa says you can’t break promises!”

Way was vaguely aware of the door opening and Pete calling out that he was home. Banzai barked, the little dog scampering into the living room to find and greet them. Way ignored the shih tzu as he jumped up onto the couch beside them. Banzai barked at them, and while he’d grown used to the shrill little bark the dog gave when he found one of them upset to alert the others, right now it just grated on his frayed nerves.

“You can’t keep bad secrets from us. You’ve been told that. Just tell me.”

“It’s not a bad secret!” Martin insisted, trying harder to twist away. Way wrapped his arms around Martin to keep him from getting away, scared that he might hurt him if he kept holding him by the arms. He was really going to kill whoever told Martin, relationship building be damned. He hated having to be firm with the pup. He always felt like he was doing it completely wrong, even if he was trying hard to make sure that Martin didn’t end up crying. But it was a bad secret, so Martin was wrong.

Way didn’t know how he was supposed to explain to Martin to get him to understand exactly how bad it was. The pup was four. How was a four-year-old supposed to understand human trafficking and years of manipulation? Would just telling him that Tony used to physically abuse him and Kenta good enough? That Tony had shot him and that was why he was in the hospital and had to wear a sling when they’d been introduced again? He didn’t want to tell him. Martin was surely too young to be forced to think about someone hurting two of his loved ones. Even just letting Pete see how Tony would push him around through his memories was overwhelming. He felt sick imagining actually telling a child about it.

“Way, Martin, what’s going on?” Way looked over to see Pete in the doorway. The shocked look on his mate’s face made Way feel awful, like he’d been caught doing something terrible.

But maybe it’d be easier now. “See? He’s here now. Tell us who told you.” Martin shook his head again. “Martin-”

Pete hurried over and sat next to them, moving Banzai down to the floor. “Hey, what’s going on?”

“I promised!” Martin said again.

“Someone told him who Tony was and he won’t tell me who,” Way explained.

“What? Martin, who said something about that man to you? It’s bad that someone did that. Papa and Mama wanted to be the ones to tell you about him.”

Martin pouted. “How is it bad, Papa? Wasn’t Grandpa nice?”

It was just too much. “Tell us who told you,” Way demanded, losing control of his power as the whole situation became too overwhelming for him.

Immediately being able to tell what had happened, Pete spoke firmly but in a calm voice, “Way, listen to me. Take a deep breath, angel.” Martin stopped struggling, dazed. As he realized what he’d done, Way let go of the pup, horrified. Pete took him, and Way scrambled off of the couch, almost tripping. Pete grabbed his wrist, keeping him from taking off. “Breathe, baby. It’s alright. He’s fine.”

“I’m sorry,” Way whimpered. “I’m sorry. I just- it’s too much. I’m sorry.”

“He’ll be fine in a second. Right, Martin? Focus on Papa, little one. Do you hear Papa?” Pete patted Martin’s back as he spoke to him, and Martin blinked a few times, shaking his head as he quickly snapped out of the haze, even sooner than he had the other few times Way had accidentally used his power on the boy.

Being an Enigma, Martin was resistant to Way’s power. They’d figured out that his ability worked using his pheromones, and Enigmas were naturally immune to those. Since Way’s were so strong and Martin so young, they only caused a bit of a daze in the pup. One that he could easily break free of with a little bit of time or something to help him ground himself. A little bit of touch and a voice to focus on always did the trick.

Way still felt absolutely horrible every time, even though Martin had never been adversely affected by it, and was too young to even really be aware of what had happened when it did. Pete had tried again and again to convince him that it was fine, but to Way, it wasn’t. Even seeing Martin come back to awareness didn’t help stop the tears that welled up in his eyes.

It felt like he was being kicked when he was down, really. He already felt useless as a parent as Martin struggled with his exhaustion, then for being unable to deal with the whole secrets situation, and now this, yet again losing control of his powers and feeling like he couldn’t even be trusted to be near his own pup. Maybe Pete was wrong to let him be involved in Martin’s life.

“Baby, come here.” Pete tugged on his wrist, trying to coax him back onto the couch. Way just stood there, trying not to cry. “Let’s all calm down and talk, okay?”

Right. He couldn’t just fall apart and let his mate handle everything. He had to be a responsible adult and help Pete with parenting. Teamwork. Way forced himself to sit down next to Pete, who lifted his hand to kiss it. After rubbing Martin’s back and putting an arm around Way to give him a comforting squeeze, Pete decided it was time to continue the conversation, asking Martin if he felt alright.

“I’m tired,” Martin mumbled.

Way sighed, miserable. That was Martin’s new standard response, it seemed. He slumped against Pete. A few tears spilled from his eyes, which he tried to hide against his mate’s shoulder before their pup could see.

Pete gave Martin a little kiss on the forehead. “I know you’re tired, little one. But Papa and Mama need to talk with you just a little more.”

Martin pushed away from Pete, getting frustrated. “No!” he yelled, climbing off of Pete.

“Martin-” Pete reached for Martin, and the pup growled at him. Way couldn’t believe it. Martin had never growled at anyone. “Martin. You need to use your words. You’re a big boy now.”

“I don’t want Papa to touch me!” Martin snapped. “Don’t look at my thoughts!” The pup darted off towards his playroom.

Neither of them moved, too shocked by their son’s outburst and how for the first time he was actively avoiding Pete’s ability.

Someone had definitely told Martin to do that. It just wasn’t something the pup would come up with on his own. He adored his father and never missed a chance to get his attention and affection.

“I agree,” Pete murmured against him. “But we’re all too upset right now. Let’s give it some time.”

-

Martin continued to avoid Pete for the rest of the day, and wouldn’t talk to either of them anymore. He didn’t growl again, but it was clear he was still upset. The pup barely touched his dinner, but Way couldn’t blame him. He had no appetite either, and even Pete didn’t finish his own plate. Banzai stayed right close to all three of them during dinner, seemingly unable to choose who needed his emotional support the most. Finally he settled between Way and Martin, but when Way glanced down at the dog, he could see the shih tzu giving a sad look towards Pete.

Even the dog was miserable. Way knew it was all his fault. He’d made an absolute mess of things, as he always did. It was like he just couldn’t let himself be happy.

“Way…” Pete reached over to squeeze his knee. “That’s not true.”

Pete took their full plates into the kitchen after everything went cold. Way felt slightly better when Martin didn’t shove him away as he helped him down from his chair, but then Martin just headed to his room.

When Way checked on him a few minutes later, Martin was in his bed, sniffling against his Lightning Mcqueen pillow pet that Babe had gotten for him.

It wasn’t until the middle of the night that they finally got to find out where exactly Martin had heard about Tony from, and why he was so tired all the time in the first place.

With Martin still upset, Pete had said they could just let him go to bed early in hopes that Martin would be up to talking the next day. He suggested they not bring it up in the morning so Martin wouldn’t be upset before school, and that hopefully a good night’s rest and a nice day at school would make him more talkative. Way didn’t know what else they could possibly try, so he agreed. They told Martin goodnight and that they loved him, shut his light off, and then went back to the living room to talk.

They went to bed at their normal time, but neither of them could sleep. Way just curled up with his head on Pete’s chest, still miserable, with Pete petting his hair and occasionally murmuring something sweet to him, only able to put a half-hearted effort into comforting him after being rejected so strongly by their pup for the first time ever. Way wished he could somehow comfort Pete in return, but he just didn’t have it in him.

Way was finally starting to feel like he might be exhausted enough to sleep when he and Pete both heard the sound of Martin crying. It got louder as Martin approached their room. Pete got up and went to their door, opening it so that the pup could come right in. Martin let himself crash right into Pete’s legs, wailing.

“What’s wrong?” Way asked, turning on their bedside lamp.

Pete lifted up Martin. Way was relieved to see that Martin wasn’t trying to get away from Pete, instead clinging to him and burying his face against the crook of his neck. Pete brought the pup to their bed, and Way moved so he could sit next to them. He asked again what was wrong, but Pete didn’t answer.

“You’re safe now, little one. Papa’s got you. Don’t be scared,” Pete told Martin, voice soft and soothing as he rocked him. “It’s okay now. Papa and Mama are here.”

Any relief at Martin accepting Pete’s affection again went away. There was no reason for Martin to be scared and for Pete not to at least tell him quickly what had happened. If Martin had gotten hurt or had a bad dream, Pete would just say so. Way wrapped his arms around them, nervous.

It took a minute before Martin calmed down from wailing to just sobbing. Pete sat the boy on his lap and checked on his hand. Martin unfurled his fist to reveal he had a cut on his finger, which started to drip with blood. Pete gently applied pressure to it to stop the bleeding.

“Way, can you get the first aid kit from the bathroom?” Pete asked. Then he went back to soothing Martin, telling him, “You’re safe, pup. Papa promises.”

Something wasn’t right at all. If Martin was just crying about somehow cutting his finger in the middle of the night, Pete wouldn’t be trying to convince the boy he was safe. He’d have just brought him to get tended to right away, the way they did whenever Martin got some kind of bruise or scrape.

Way got the kit and Pete brought out some disinfectant. He dabbed at the little wound and then wrapped it in a bandage. Having the cut tended to only helped a little. Martin kept crying.

“Pete, what’s wrong with him? Does it hurt a lot?”

“He’s too upset, I can’t tell. He’s scared of something, though.” Pete didn’t let him keep pressing for more, gently asking the pup, “Martin, Mama and Papa have got you. Can you tell us what’s wrong? Are you scared?” Pete wiped under Martin’s eyes, but the tears continued to flow.

It was a struggle for Martin to try to answer. But through sobs he told them, “G-Grandpa was- was really mean to me. H-he-”

Pete froze. Way was just confused. That wasn’t at all what he’d expected Martin to say, and he didn’t know what he thought frightened the pup. He had no idea what that even meant.

“Martin.” Way glanced at Pete in shock at the firm voice he was using. He always spoke so gently to the pup when he was upset. “When did you see Grandpa?”

“Grandpa yelled at me…” Martin told them. “I was practicing and- and I hit my picture with my arrow and it broke and he got really mad. I wanted to clean up and it hurt my finger…”

“Practicing? Your power?”

Martin didn’t call it practicing, using his power. They never encouraged him to train, letting him figure it out at his own pace. No one around Martin would tell him to do that. Sure, they’d tell him if he tried a lot then he would get better at doing certain things, like getting the bullseye on a target or using a new shooting toy, but only in the way they would for anything else, like telling him that writing more would make his handwriting better or playing a certain game more would make it easier. Just simple things like that.

The pup nodded. “Grandpa kept yelling and- and he- he tried to hit me…” Martin sobbed, burying his face against Pete. “It was mean…”

Way didn’t get it. Had Martin had some weird nightmare? But Pete looked completely freaked out, and that scared him. But there was no way that who he thought Martin was talking about had tried to hit the pup.

“How long have you been seeing Grandpa? Has he tried to hit you before?”

“H-he was nice… but now he’s a mean ghost like the ones at Uncle and Auntie’s.” Martin sniffled. “Ghosts can’t touch me but… but he’s never tried to hit me when he visits every day… Papa…”

Ghosts.

“Is that what they meant by taking him to the temple…?” Pete muttered to himself. Way grabbed his arm, wanting to be told what was going on. “Martin, where’s your necklace that Auntie and Uncle gave you? Can Papa see it?” Pete asked, sounding desperate.

“Um…”

“The fake amulet necklace?” Way asked, completely confused as to what that had to do with anything. “That broke a while ago. I threw it out.”

“Are you sure it was fake?”

“Why would it have been real…? They aren’t in Thailand. It didn’t look normal.”

Pete didn’t answer, instead asking their son, “Do you remember why Auntie and Uncle gave you your necklace, pup?”

It took Martin a moment. “Um… Well, the ghosts got mean, so, um… so we went to the temple uncle a lot. He gave it to me. The temple uncle always made the ghosts not scary… maybe Papa can ask Auntie and Uncle to help make Grandpa nice again. I don’t like Grandpa being scary…”

“And the necklace was to help you with your power?”

“Maybe…? I dunno…”

Way couldn’t take being left out of the loop anymore. “Pete, what the hell are you two talking about? What’s wrong?”

Pete ignored him, and Way wanted to scream. The older Enigma reached for his cellphone. He pulled it over and quickly went through his contacts, clicking on one that said Uncle Phacharasakun. He kept calling until it finally went through. “When did you find out Martin’s Accuracy affected his vision?” he asked as soon as his uncle answered.

“I’m going to freak out if you don’t tell me what’s going on, Pete. I mean it.” Way didn’t want to start crying in front of Martin, but if Pete didn’t say something to him, he wasn’t sure if he could stop himself. It was terrifying, not understanding why Pete looked scared for their pup. He needed to know what was happening. “Pete, please,” he begged, his voice wobbling.

He missed whatever Pete’s adoptive uncle told him. Pete was not happy about it, whatever he’d said. “That soon after I left? He wasn’t even three! Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

“I’m sorry, Pete. We were so focused on dealing with everything that we didn’t think to tell you. It was a lot.”

“I had no idea! I didn’t realize- I didn’t understand why you were so insistent that I take him to the temple when I picked him up. And he didn’t know what the necklace was for.”

“Oh, Pete, I- I’m so sorry. We really didn’t mean to not tell you. Has his amulet been working? It’s supposed to keep everything outside of our realm away from him.”

“It broke.”

There was a pause on the other end of the phone, then Pete’s uncle sounded anxious. “You have to get him another one right away! He’s far too young to be exposed to bad spirits. They’ll scare the poor boy.”

“They can’t hurt him, then?”

“They never did here. They just phase through him. But it’s too much for a child to cope with. You have to bring him to a temple and explain to the monks there what’s going on, and get him a new amulet to protect him. There’s a small temple near here that we would take him to. I’ll send you the information for the temple that trained the monk we got Martin’s amulet from.”

“Thank you,” Pete said, relieved.

“Keep a close eye on him. Ghosts used to scare him pretty badly.”

Pete didn’t bother mentioning that it was already too late for that. “I will.”

He hung up and Way blurted, “He can see ghosts?! Since when?!”

Martin looked between them. “Mama and Papa didn’t know…?”

Pete gave Martin a hug. “We didn’t know, little one. But it’s going to be okay. Papa’s going to make sure you get a new necklace, so your powers never scare you again.” The pup nodded. To Way, Pete said, “His Accuracy isn’t just total muscle control. It’s completely accurate vision as well, being able to see into the spirit realm.”

Way supposed that he was meant to just accept that. He couldn’t believe how calm Pete was after learning that Martin’s special ability had such a shocking aspect to it. He’d never thought about it, whether he even believed ghosts were real. But they were, and his pup could see them, and the ghost of his former foster father was haunting their house.

He felt dizzy. Tony was in their house, talking to their pup, scaring their child. He’d tried to hurt him.

Martin had been having trouble for weeks. Way hadn’t been able to put the pieces together. He should have somehow, he thought. Then this wouldn’t be happening. Then things wouldn’t have gone so far. Tony had been speaking to the pup every night for all that time. He’d tried to hurt him.

Pete was trying to say something to him, but Way couldn’t register what he was saying. Martin was crying again. Vaguely, he was aware he was having some sort of anxiety attack from being so overwhelmed by everything. Pete put an arm around him and Way surged closer to bury against both Pete and Martin, clinging to them both. Terrified, he tried holding Martin as close to himself as possible, wanting to feel like the boy was safe in his arms. He wanted to believe that nothing could hurt Martin if he was tucked between the two of them.

Finally, eventually, when his instincts stopped screaming at him, Way could hear Pete again, softly saying his name. “Way. Way, darling, listen.”

“Mama…” Martin sniffled, holding onto him.

“It’s going to be alright. I’m going to make all the arrangements tomorrow so we can get a new amulet. Then we don’t have to worry about him anymore. He can’t hurt Martin.” Pete stroked his hair. “Neither of us realized, baby. But now we know, and now we can fix this.”

He couldn’t speak. But Pete could tell that he was listening now.

“Are Papa and Mama gonna make Grandpa go away…?” Martin asked.

Way had never been more grateful for Pete than he was as Pete carefully explained to the pup, “Martin, pup… I know you said Grandpa used to be nice to you and that’s why you want us to help him, but Grandpa isn’t a good person. He’s very bad. It’s good to make him go away.”

“But-”

“When Grandpa was alive, he was bad to everyone he adopted. The way he spoke to you and how he tried to hit you now that he’s ‘scary’ is how he used to treat Mama.”

That stopped any protests as Martin took a moment to process what Pete was saying. Pete waited for it to click for the child, and it did. “Grandpa was mean to Mama when he wasn’t sick?”

“That’s right. Do you remember how Mama was hurt when he first came back to live with Papa and Martin?”

The pup nodded. “Mama was at the doctor’s for a long time. Cuz someone hurt him.” He touched Way’s arm. “Now Mama’s all better.”

“It was Grandpa who hurt Mama.”

“Why?”

“He wanted Mama to do something very bad, so he got mad and hurt Mama. He hurt lots of other people too. That’s why Grandpa is a bad person.” To Way’s relief, Martin didn’t press for any details, obviously too upset trying to understand what he’d been told. Pete finished off the explanation by saying, “Because Grandpa is a bad person, it’s very important that you don’t talk to him anymore. If you see him, come find Papa or Mama, okay? Can you promise Papa that you’ll do that?”

“Okay. I promise.”

-

Way didn’t sleep much the rest of the night. Martin had cried more, upset about his grandfather being a bad person, about seeing his parents so unhappy, and about hearing that Tony had hurt Way before. After the pup had fallen asleep in their bed, all cried out, Pete had spoken with Way for a while. He’d promised that Martin still loved him just as much as ever, that the pup felt horrible hearing about him being hurt and seeing him so sad. Then he’d fully explained what Martin had meant about Tony’s ghost being scary and sick and how the ghost only showed up at night, and the two of them had put together all the pieces.

Seeing Pete pinch the bridge of his nose and curse as Way brought up the picture Martin had drawn made Way feel like he was going to start drowning in guilt. If he’d just mentioned that, everything could have been discovered so much sooner.

“I should have asked what the amulet was for when I first picked up Martin. My aunt was so insistent that Martin always wear it. It’s not your fault, Way. We both missed things.” Pete sighed, looking at Martin, who was curled up between them. The pup had a loose hold on both of them, grip slackened by sleep. Way didn’t want to risk waking him, but he couldn’t stop nuzzling the pup and holding onto him. “At least he can’t get physically hurt.”

Way couldn’t imagine what would have happened if the ghost had somehow managed to hurt their pup. He was certain that the guilt might just kill them. Pete was so protective of them, and Way couldn’t bear the thought of something terrible happening to their family so soon after he’d finally gotten one.

In the morning, it was obvious that Pete had slept as little as he had, or even less. He looked exhausted, dark circles under his eyes and hair a mess as his alarm went off, jolting the three of them awake. Way didn’t bother looking in the mirror when he stumbled into the bathroom. He was sure he was a wreck. He quickly scrubbed his face clean of dried tear tracks and skipped his morning routine, wanting to get back to Martin as soon as possible. Even though the ghost wouldn’t appear during the day, Way didn’t want to be apart from him for too long.

Pete, for the first time since they’d moved in together, spent longer getting ready than he did. Way was disappointed when he saw Pete come out dressed for work, running a comb through his hair. His suit wasn’t as carefully put together as normal, a bit wrinkled and his jacket not buttoned up, tie and watch forgotten. Martin sat up on the bed, yawning and rubbing his eyes before reaching out for his morning goodbye.

As Pete gave the pup a hug and let Martin wish Papa a good day at work, Way asked, “You’re going?”

“I’m going to make arrangements for us to go to the temple while I’m at the office. We’ll make a trip out of it while the amulet is being made, so I’ll have to get things shifted at work for my time off.” It all sounded very reasonable, proof that Pete was always on top of things, but Way was exhausted and wished his mate could just stay with them. Pete reached over to ruffle his hair when he saw him sulking.

Martin copied Pete, also reaching up to pet Way’s hair. Way hugged the pup, sighing.

To Martin, Pete asked, “Little one, do you feel up for going to school? Papa can help you get ready and drive you there if you want to go today.”

Way froze for a moment, then tightened his hold around Martin. “What? He’s not going to school.”

“If he doesn’t want to, he doesn’t have to.”

“I wanna go… My teacher is bringing her dog in today.”

Way couldn’t recall Martin mentioning that. It should have been something the boy excitedly told them about when being picked up from his kindergarten. He swallowed hard, blinking rapidly to try not to get upset at how much the ghost of his foster father was ruining their peaceful family life. Martin was too tired and stressed to be excited about things that would have made him jump around and talk endlessly before. The boy loved dogs, always so happy around Banzai and his uncles’ dogs.

“I don’t want him to go to school.” Way wanted to stay with the pup so he’d be sure of his safety until they got things fixed with a new amulet.

Martin looked between them, confused. “Mama’s upset…”

“It’s alright, little one. Mama is just worried about you. How about you go brush your teeth? I’ll come help you in a few minutes.” Pete lifted Martin out of Way’s hold and set the child down next to the bed. Martin hesitated, but then left to go get ready for school.

“Pete!” Way protested.

His mate sat next to him, grabbing his hands and squeezing them. “Baby, I think we should try to treat things as normally as possible for him. Just let him go to school for today before he has to miss a bunch of it.” Way frowned at him, not at all pleased with the idea, even though it infuriatingly made sense. “You need to make arrangements at the showroom as well.”

Way gave him an unimpressed look. They had just discovered their foster father’s ghost was haunting their son, and Pete was suggesting that Way could go into work and not just stay with the pup all day to look after him.

“If you need me to do it, angel, then I’ll gladly take over things for you. Why don’t you come to the office with me today after we drop Martin off? Then you’ll know how things are going for our trip right as I get them ready.”

The idea of sending Martin to school while also spending the day with Pete at his office made things a little better. He might be able to tolerate it if he was right by Pete’s side the entire day. Pete’s office had a nice couch in it, and his desk chair was plenty sturdy enough for the both of them if he needed comfort.

“Fine.”

“Great!” Pete kissed him, giving him a smile as he pulled away. Way couldn’t return it, but he did feel a little soothed. “Let’s get Martin dressed and fed. He’ll want to make an offering at the spirit house too before we go.”

-

Martin seemed cheered up by his day at school, a bit more like himself as he happily told his parents how his teacher had brought in her dog to show the class to kick start their new lesson plan about animals, starting with learning about different pets. He was even happier when he realized that both of his parents would be home early, as Pete went inside with them instead of his usual drop off and return to the office.

They let him nap once he wore himself out talking and started looking sleepy, and he curled up on Way’s lap to do it, having been glued to his side the entire time since they’d picked him up. Pete got their bags packed and in the car and called Martin out of school for the few days they’d be gone, then canceled his doctor’s appointment. With that done, they were all ready to go the following afternoon. Then Pete joined them on the couch. He moved aside Banzai, who had curled up next to them with his little head on Way’s thigh.

When it was finally time for Martin to go to bed, Martin wanted to sleep in his own room, insisting that he was a big kid now, and fussing when Way tried to just scoop him up and bring him to their bedroom. Martin’s teacher had happily reminded the class that they were all big now as she told them how they had to be responsible around animals, Martin said. The pup had, rather unfortunately in Way’s opinion, taken it to heart. It seemed four-year-olds thought that was a very big deal, being a big kid, one they couldn’t be easily swayed from. After making the boy promise that he would go to their room right away if he saw his grandfather, they stayed with him for as long as they could, reading him a story that he quickly fell asleep to.

Pete quietly told Way that they should go to their own room and get some sleep as well.

“He’ll be fine,” he assured him, rubbing his arm. “It’s already dark out and nothing has shown up. I know we both have a bad feeling, but the worst that could happen is a repeat of last night. Ghosts can’t touch him.”

-

“Martin, my son, wake up.”

Jerking awake at the sound of his grandfather’s voice, Martin gasped and scrambled away, clutching a toy to his chest. He looked over and his grandfather was standing next to his bed, frowning at him. The ghost looked completely solid, only slightly see-through where the light of the full moon through the window came through him.

“Ah- Grandpa…” Martin blinked and remembered what he’d been told, covering his mouth with his hand when he realized he’d accidentally spoken to the ghost when he wasn’t supposed to. Taking his favorite toy, he went to climb off of the bed.

“Where are you going, son?” his grandfather asked, stepping in front of him. Martin stopped, briefly forgetting that ghosts would just phase through him if they touched him. His grandfather couldn’t actually block him.

Scared, Martin couldn’t help but whimper, “Papa and Mama…”

His grandfather scowled at him, and Martin shrank back. “Did you tell them about me?” Martin turned away, hugging his toy. “Answer me!”

When he didn’t answer, his grandfather just got more enraged. “You did,” he spat. “Just as disloyal as your parents, never listening to what Daddy says, breaking all their promises!”

Martin tried to climb off of the bed. He couldn’t, bumping into his grandfather. His eyes widened, and he looked up at his grandfather, whose face mirrored his own shock for a moment before twisting back into anger. Blood started to seep from the front of his grandfather’s gray suit, turning the white shirt underneath a striking deep red, making Martin flinch back at the metallic scent that flooded the room.

“I’m going to make those ungrateful brats pay for betraying me! I’ll take away everything they care about, starting with you!”

His grandfather lunged forward and grabbed him by the shoulders, pushing him down against the bed.

Martin screamed.

-

Pete and Way jolted awake at the sound and rushed to their pup’s room, growing more scared when Martin’s screaming abruptly cut off. In the light of the moon coming through the windows, they could see someone with blood drenching his front and back kneeling over the bed, a hand wrapped around Martin’s throat, the other digging into his shoulder, leaving bruises that matched angry ones already left on the other side.

Tony let go of Martin’s shoulder and ripped the knife from his abdomen. He raised it up over the boy.

“Martin!”

Way pulled Tony’s hand from Martin’s neck while Pete slammed into him, knocking him aside.

“Get him out of here!” Pete called to Way as he grabbed Tony’s arm to try to wrench the knife from the dead man. Way scooped up Martin, who was gasping for air and coughing as he tried to catch his breath. He lifted the pup off of the bed and turned him away from Tony, shielding him. Way looked back at Pete, who was struggling to hold back Tony, the ghost much stronger than he had been when he was alive. Seeing the two of them still in the room, Pete shouted at them, “Way, run!”

Way wanted to take Martin as far from the ghost as possible, but he didn’t want to leave his mate behind all by himself either.

Tony got his arm free and Pete narrowly managed to keep the ghost from stabbing him in the chest, grabbing his wrist and twisting it away, but getting his hand nicked by the blade in the process. Pete growled as his hand was cut, but ignored the pain to use as much strength as he could to force the ghost backward away from Way and Martin.

“Pete!” Way couldn’t just leave him. He set Martin down and pushed the boy towards the doorway, yelling at him to run and hide as he went to help Pete.

Getting his hands on his former foster father, Way grabbed on tight, digging his fingers in until it felt like they might break, and put everything into using his power, snarling, “Get out!”

Tony’s face twisted and the ghost cursed and screamed as he tried to fight against the command. With a last inhuman roar, the ghost vanished, fading away. Way and Pete both fell to the floor.

For a moment they just stared in silent shock at where the ghost had just been, breathing hard. Way winced as his head started to ache from the strain of using his power like that, and Pete moved closer to check on him. “Are you hurt?” he asked worriedly, despite the blood dripping from his own injury.

Way waved him off. The two of them exchanged a look, and got up. Way glanced around the room, and there was no sign of Martin.

They searched for him, calling his name. Way felt panicked when Martin didn’t answer, fearing the worst- that the ghost had simply reappeared wherever Martin had gone and finished what it’d started before the pup could even scream again. Pete’s expression mirrored his own, his mate holding his hand so tightly it was almost painful.

Finally, as they neared their bedroom and Pete shouted Martin’s name, Banzai gave a short little bark. Pete pushed into their room, desperate, dragging Way along. “Martin! There you are!” he cried out, relieved when he spotted their son.

The boy had hidden under their bed, holding on tight to their dog, who must have also dived under there when the screaming and shouting first began. Martin had his face buried against the shih tzu’s soft fur, muffling the sound of his crying as he sobbed his little heart out. Terrified and shaking like a leaf, Martin didn’t notice them until Pete got down beneath the bed as well. The pup flinched and cried out when Pete touched his arm, making the dog yelp and scamper away to hide underneath a chair instead. Martin blindly reached out at Banzai as he left, whimpering, but didn’t manage to grab him. He drew his arm back and curled up, covering his face with his hands.

“Shh, little one, it’s Papa. Don’t be scared. There you are.” Martin finally looked up. Seeing his parents, he started wailing and crawled out towards them. He burrowed himself against Pete as his father pulled him into his arms, Pete practically folding over the pup. Pete murmured rambled assurances to the pup, holding him tight and rocking him.

Way essentially collapsed in his haste to wrap his arms around the two, barely noticing how badly he was shaking or that he’d started crying as well.

-

None of them felt safe enough to get back in bed, Martin refusing to be put down and immediately reaching for Way when Pete went to lay him down, so Pete guided them to the living room, calling along Banzai. Way curled up with Martin on the couch, and after quickly fetching a first aid kit, Pete joined them on the couch. It took a little coaxing, but he got Martin to sit up a little so they could check on his injuries.

Dark bruising around his shoulders, and a lighter but still quite obvious handprint wrapped around his throat. He’d managed to catch his breath as much as he could while sobbing, and didn’t have any other injuries. Pete took out an instant cold pack from the kit and held it over the darkest marks.

Way grabbed the pack from Pete and stared hard at his cut. He didn’t think he’d be able to say anything properly through his tears, but his thoughts would at least convey. Pete blinked at his hand, surprised to see the wound. He quickly wiped the blood off and bandaged it, trying to keep Martin from seeing it. Way wasn’t sure if he was necessarily thankful at all that Martin was crying too much to notice, but it was far better than if he did see it.

They stayed in the living room for the rest of the night. Way and Pete kept Martin tucked in their arms, holding onto him protectively. They didn’t lay down, staying sitting up in case they needed to defend their pup again. Pete did what he could to try to comfort them both, but with how tense he was and how he kept them shielded, it didn’t provide much reassurance. Martin eventually stopped wailing, but it was only because the child had completely exhausted himself, quieting down to sniffles and whimpers that were like daggers of guilt to his parents’ hearts.

It wouldn’t be something that either of them would be able to forgive themselves for, Way thought, almost drowning in the shame of having let Martin go through something so terrible. Something that had resulted in him getting physically harmed. Their pup had gotten hurt in what was supposed to be the safety of their home, where they were supposed to be able to protect him.

Instead, they’d almost lost him.

As devastating as the attack was, it was almost unbearable to think of how close they’d come to having their lives completely ruined. A moment later and Martin might have been gone, torn away from them by the man who had already tried to take so much.

“He’s right here, Way, we’ve got him,” Pete said quietly as Way once again felt like he was shattering. Pete was trying to sound calm and collected as always, but he just sounded wrecked, voice choked up and shaky. Way couldn’t stop thinking about it, couldn’t stop feeling the strike of fear from when they’d first ran in and saw Martin with a knife above him and it seemed like the whole world was coming to an end. “We’ve got him,” Pete repeated, this time to calm himself, giving the pup another kiss on the head.

While Way had just been holding on tight to Martin, needing to feel the pup in his arms so he knew they hadn’t lost him, Pete had been giving them almost nonstop affection, needing to do something, anything to try to help them after failing to do so.

It wasn’t until sunlight started spilling in through the windows that their instincts calmed down from high alert. Pete looked around and saw Martin’s tablet sitting on the coffee table, so he reached out and grabbed it so he could look something up. Way was glad he didn’t have to get up to find one of their phones for whatever he was trying to search for. It felt horrible enough to have one of Pete’s arms no longer wrapped around them.

Pete turned the tablet so Way could see it, showing that he’d looked up the nearest temple to their home and what time it was open to the public.

“Let’s take him here.” Pete explained it would take a few days more for the monks at the other temple to finish making the special amulet for Martin that would permanently solve the ghost problem. Dread seeped into Way at the thought of dealing with more nights without a proper safeguard for the pup. “There must be something they can do to give him some protection in the meantime.”

Way’s whole body ached as he got up and lifted up Martin, sore from being so tense and wrapped up so tight around the pup for hours. Martin fussed as he was adjusted, looping his arms around Way’s neck and tucking his head against him. They’d both run out of tears during the night, but Martin was still very upset, his soft pup scent bitter and sharp with fear. The pup hadn’t fallen asleep at all, simply staying balled up between his parents. He wasn’t shaking anymore, but it seemed he’d only stopped because he was exhausted, not because he felt any better.

Way followed Pete closely as the man let Banzai outside and refilled the dog’s bowl, then into their bedroom once the shih tzu was back at their feet, pawing at them.

It was almost unbearable to hand Martin over to Pete so Way could change out of his pajamas before they left. He didn’t bother cleaning up at all, changing as quickly as he could into jeans and a t-shirt. He took the pup back, though Pete looked reluctant to part from him.

They didn’t make Martin change, just getting his shoes on and giving him a little chocolate milk carton after they found out none of them had an appetite. Way’s stomach turned when Pete offered him some kind of snack, and Martin just looked away when asked if there was anything he wanted. The pup wasn’t up for talking. Pete forced himself to eat an energy bar, just so he could have something before driving. He put Banzai’s vest and leash on and they went out to the car.

The temple was mercifully close. Way sat in the back with Martin during the drive, as the pup had looked completely miserable to be placed in his car seat. Way leaned against it to keep his arm around the pup until they got to their destination. Pete kept looking back at them in the rearview mirror. Banzai sat on his lap as he drove, shoving himself against Pete’s stomach and hand to be pet, the little service dog trying to provide comfort to his overwhelmed owner. Martin slowly sipped on his milk during the ride, and had no issue with abandoning it in the car once it was time for him to be lifted out. He immediately reached to be unbuckled and picked up as soon as he saw that the car had stopped.

Pete set Banzai in the backseat, leaving the car and AC running for him after helping Way and Martin out. Martin made a concerned noise, reaching one hand towards the dog. Pete softly assured him, “Banzai will be okay in the car. He just can’t come into the temple. He’ll be right here when we get back.” The pup frowned, but didn’t protest. He simply stared towards the car as they headed to the temple doors.

As they walked into the temple to find someone to help, Martin looked around at everything and finally seemed to relax a bit. The pup obviously remembered the temple that had helped when he was with his father’s relatives, and he clearly felt much safer. As the pup dozed off in Way’s arms, Way couldn’t help but feel guilty all over again. Martin didn’t even feel safe in their own home anymore and hadn’t really been comforted by his parents. It took some strange temple he’d never even been to to calm him down. Tears welled up in his eyes again, making them burn. Way did his best not to make any noise, not wanting to disturb the pup as he got the sleep he desperately needed after the awful night and stressful weeks he’d had.

He blinked rapidly as he pressed his cheek against Martin, trying and failing to keep more tears from falling.

Seeing that Way wasn’t going to be getting anywhere successfully on his own, Pete guided them through the temple. He kept giving Way little kisses on the cheek and squeezing half hugs, but it didn’t make the guilt go away at all. Way doubted it did for either of them.

They found a monk and Pete quickly explained everything that had happened and how they would be going to the larger temple soon. The elderly monk nodded as Pete told him how it was part of Martin’s Accuracy ability as an Enigma, and Way wondered if the man actually believed them. He briefly considered using his power on the monk to force him to help their son, but Pete squeezed his hand.

The monk seemed to believe Pete’s story after checking the marks on Martin’s neck, murmuring something about it sounding like the works of a Phi Tai Hong and that the other temple would be much more equipped to handling its difficult removal. Way vaguely knew about what that was from some horror movie North had forced him to watch with him once. A vengeful spirit, created from someone who had died an unexpected and painful death, one that would try to kill its victims in the same manner that it itself had died.

The image of Tony trying to stab Martin to death certainly fit the description.

Pete quietly reassured him. The monk showed them someplace they could sit while he went to speak with the few others at the temple. “Let the child rest for a while,” he told them. “We’ll get things ready for him and wake him later.”

Way leaned against Pete as they sat down, adjusting Martin so the pup could sleep more comfortably. Pete rested his head against Way’s, putting a hand over Martin.

Finally, three monks approached them. Pete gently shook Martin awake. Once the pup was awake, blinking sleepily at the monks, one of them asked to speak with the child alone. Way immediately drew back, holding tight to their son. “Huh? No!” he protested. His first thought was that there was no way he was letting go of the pup unless it was absolutely necessary. Probably never again, he felt like.

Pete rubbed his arms, quietly telling him, “Way, it’s alright. They just want to talk to him and make sure it wasn’t us that hurt him.”

Swallowing hard against the lump in his throat, Way nodded a little. That was reasonable. In another situation, he’d think that was smart of the monks to do, to actually check. But he still hated the thought of not having Martin right with them. So he couldn’t hold back the fresh wave of tears.

Martin whimpered as he was adjusted to be sitting on Way’s lap, facing Pete. He held onto Pete’s offered hands with his own trembling ones. Way rubbed his cheek against the pup’s head, hugging him tight. Pete made circles with his thumbs over Martin’s little hands. His voice was very gentle as he told the pup, “Little one, the monks here want to ask you some questions so they can help you. Can you do that? For Papa and Mama?”

Squirming, Martin tried to turn around to burrow against Way again. He whined quietly.

“Papa and Mama will be right here waiting for you, little one. You’ll be safe with the monks. They really want to help you. Okay? Papa promises that you’ll be safe and that you’ll come back to Papa and Mama very quickly.”

Although very nervous to leave them and after a bit of hesitation, Martin agreed and let Pete lift him to set him on his feet. Seeing that Martin was a bit wobbly, one of the monks offered to carry him, and Martin reached up. Way wiped his eyes and did his best to not make any noise that might upset the pup as he looked back at them. Pete waved, giving Martin a very forced reassuring smile. Way just held onto Pete’s arm.

As soon as the monks rounded a corner and Martin was out of earshot, Way buried against Pete and sobbed. Pete held onto him tightly, murmuring to him that Martin was getting help and that he’d be right back. But Way could feel a few tears where Pete had pressed his own face against him. Way clung tighter to him.

It felt like forever, but it actually wasn’t long before the monks returned with Martin. Way jumped up as soon as Pete straightened and said they were coming back. Pete held his hand to keep him from rushing over to take their son back.

Martin looked a little better already, blinking sleepily with his thumb in his mouth. The boy’s hair was wet in the front with a few drops on his face that Way almost mistook for tears, and he now had multiple charms on strings around his neck. He was walking on his own, holding the hand of one of the monks. The monk let go and gently nudged him forward, and Martin realized he’d been brought back. He made a small sound and held out his hand towards them, taking a few steps.

They both scooped him up, eager to have him back. Way was careful not to squeeze Martin too tightly. He would not have a repeat of broken amulets sending them all on another downward spiral. The ones now on Martin’s neck looked even smaller and easier to snap than the one he’d had before. Though his old one had obviously worked despite being fragile, Way wasn’t too sure if the new ones would do their job. Maybe the quantity of them would be enough.

“Does he need to keep them on constantly for them to protect him?” Pete asked, either thinking the same thing already or agreeing with Way’s worries.

The monks assured that just close proximity would be enough. He could take them off when he was sleeping as long as they were right nearby. He’d also been given a water blessing, which would act as an extra deterrent to the Phi Tai Hong.

Having been about to touch Martin’s cheek to brush the stray water droplets off, Way dropped his hand down. He would just let it dry on its own. Thankfully, the pup didn’t seem to mind being a little wet, his hands once again clinging to Way’s shirt.

After being told it’d be best to get Martin to the other temple as soon as possible, they went back to the car. Martin wanted to pet Banzai, whining and reaching for the dog as they passed his carrier in the back, so Pete got the dog and placed him onto Martin’s lap. The shih tzu curled up on top of the boy, letting him stroke his soft fur.

A train ride brought them close enough to have a driver bring them to the hotel Pete had booked a room in, one right near the temple they would be going to in a few days. He was barely able to remember in time that he needed to call the driver he’d arranged to let them know that they would be arriving a few hours earlier than originally planned. Way was glad they didn’t have to stand around in the station or catch a cab. The three of them were a sorry sight, and the car had a tinted divider that gave them privacy.

Pete did his best to clean the three of them up. Way felt a little better after getting his face cleaned and a cool water bottle pressed under his eyes to reduce the redness. It helped a lot to have Pete fussing over them. Martin’s amulets softly clinked together whenever the pup moved, and the sound, which normally would have been annoying, was calming as well. A reminder that at least for a bit, Martin was safe.

His hair had dried on the train ride, but Way was careful still not to touch the spot where the water blessing had been. He wasn’t sure exactly how it worked, and didn’t want to screw anything up. He felt strange as he realized how little he knew. The Chen Family Foundation had not included anything spiritual or even cultural in the education they provided.

For all of what was going on, Way was completely in the dark.

The hotel room was nice, but Way barely took that in at all. The person helping them bring in their bags asked if they’d had a long trip that was rough on the pup when they saw how exhausted they all looked. Pete just nodded instead of trying to give any kind of answer. Martin had been quiet on the train and during the drive, dozing off some more. The pup was much more comfortable with his new necklaces.

The suite had two rooms, but Way brought Martin right to the master bedroom. The headboard of the bed had a shelf behind it, so Way took Martin’s necklaces off and placed them there. He got Martin’s shoes off and laid down on the bed with him, placing the pup in the center.

After letting Banzai out for a minute, Pete joined them, bringing the dog along. Banzai curled up near Way’s knee, and Pete wrapped his arm around his mate and son. The pup soon fell asleep, and before he knew it, Way had as well.

-

Pete eventually woke Way. For a moment, Way almost panicked when he realized he’d fallen asleep and Martin wasn’t tucked against him anymore. Then he realized the pup was sitting in Pete’s lap, his father’s arm wrapped around him. Way let out a relieved sigh. Martin was safe with Pete. Nothing terrible had happened.

“It’s alright, baby. Here, I ordered us some food. You should eat. Your pills are in our bag, after you eat a bit.”

There was a tray of easy to eat foods on the bed. All things that Martin particularly liked as snacks. The pup was holding a little yogurt cup, and Pete grabbed a spoon to resume feeding him. It was nice to see the boy eating after everything.

Way looked over at the clock near their bed. He hadn’t eaten in over a full day, and he really needed to take his pills. But he still wasn’t hungry. So he just sat and watched as Martin ate instead.

The pup finished his yogurt and gave Pete the empty cup. Pete set it and the spoon down and asked, “What would you like to eat now, little one?”

Martin grabbed two slices of mango from a bowl of fruit. Instead of eating them, he held one up to Pete and the other out to Way. “Papa and Mama eat too?” he asked, voice scratchy from crying but still gentle and sweet.

“Oh. Thank you, Martin,” Pete managed to reply, fighting back tears at hearing the pup finally say something again.

Way simply burst into tears.

“Mama…?” Martin whimpered.

“Mama’s okay, pup. He’s just glad that you’re feeling better. Why don’t you sit with Mama and eat with him while Papa gets Mama’s medicine from his bag?”

“Take your mango, Papa.”

“Oh, of course. Thank you.” Pete took his fruit slice and Martin crawled over to tuck against Way. He held up the other slice of mango. Way scrubbed at his eyes and then let Martin feed him the fruit.

Martin ended up continuing to hand them things in between Pete feeding him. Once the pup was full and dozing off, Way tucked him in and then took his pills. He laid back down next to Martin, and Pete joined them.

-

Their sleep schedules did a complete reverse. After sleeping for the majority of the day, Martin was awake as it got dark. As the sun went down and all the natural light in their suite dimmed more and more, the pup got nervous. He wouldn’t lay down, climbing onto Pete and tugging at him and whining for Papa until Pete sat up so he could cling to him.

Way got the amulet necklaces onto the pup, but that didn’t do much to ease his fear.

“Don’t wanna see Grandpa…” Martin sobbed as the sun went down. Way turned on every light he could find in the suite and closed all the curtains.

“Papa and Mama won’t let Grandpa ever hurt you again, Martin,” Pete promised him. “We’re going to keep you, and each other safe.”

Martin sniffled. “And Banzai?”

“And Banzai.” Pete patted next to his lap and Banzai went over. He lifted the dog up so Martin could hold him. Martin cuddled the little dog like he was a plushie, rubbing his cheek against his soft fur.

Pete brought out Martin’s tablet to distract him, and read him as many stories as he wanted to pass the time, letting him click download on whichever ones interested him on his book app. Way felt like he would have fallen asleep listening to Pete read for so long, if not for the fact that he was also terrified. Though Pete was trying to appear calm for Martin, leaning back to read with the pup tucked against him and occasionally pointing at pictures on the screen, Way could feel the tension in him.

They were both on guard, too nervous to fall asleep or to even encourage Martin to try to sleep.

It stayed like that until they finally went to the temple to pick up the new amulet, getting the pup to eat and sleep during the day, and keeping him safe and distracted all night. The two of them hardly slept at all, and Way was barely aware of what was happening as they followed the monks in the temple. He did whatever they or Pete told him to, using the bulk of his concentration to try to comfort Martin and get him to listen and follow along as well. Martin didn’t like that they’d left Banzai in the hotel room, even though an employee had agreed to stay and watch over the dog, so the pup kept getting worried and started fretting.

But after some ceremony and more blessings and lots of the monks explaining things about ghosts and ritual that just went over Way’s head that at least Pete seemed to be taking in and understanding, they were finally presented with the new blessed amulet. While the last one had been wooden, the new one was made of bronze, a metal that would be able to withstand whatever mishaps a child might have with it. The amulet was put onto the gold chain Martin already had.

After stressing that Martin was to keep the necklace on constantly and that he had to hang it beside his bed at night, the monks assured them that the Phi Tai Hong wouldn’t bother Martin again.

They could finally head home. But as soon as they got back to the hotel to pick up Banzai, Way just wanted to sleep, and flopped down onto their bed as Pete started saying he’d book tickets back. Martin had already conked out on the drive back, finally feeling secure enough to sleep without needing to be in his parents’ arms. So Pete sighed and said he’d wait until tomorrow, and set Martin down next to Way.

-

Upon getting home, Martin’s other charms he’d been given by the first temple were redistributed. They were hooked onto his backpacks and in his room. With the new amulet secure around Martin’s neck and the rest where they could protect him at home and when he went places, things felt safe.

Martin was talking regularly again, if not less than and much more quietly than before. He was very clingy, but Way hardly noticed. He and Pete still didn’t want to put him down. They took turns holding him, spending much of the day cuddling him and watching races on the pup’s tablet.

As they ate dinner together, Martin kept looking towards the hall that led to his bedroom. Seeing where the pup was glancing, Pete assured him that things were going to be perfectly safe.

“Can Martin sleep in Papa and Mama’s bed?” he asked, face set in an anxious pout.

They’d only gotten home that morning. There was no way Martin was going to be sleeping in his own room all by himself. Despite Pete’s assurances, Way didn’t feel comfortable with that yet. He wanted to make sure the amulet did its job while Martin was back in the house where Tony’s ghost had last been. There was also no way he’d be sleeping alone. The pup had been having nightmares, sometimes waking up crying or coughing, and it was going to be their first attempt to try to get him back on a normal sleep schedule. Martin had taken multiple naps throughout the day, so there was no way he would be sleeping through the night.

“I’m a big kid now, but-” Martin started.

“Of course you’re sleeping in our room!” Way said in a rush. He did not want Martin getting it into his head that he would have to sleep by himself, in case the pup decided to insist on it.

Pete squeezed Martin’s hand and put a hand on Way’s back to soothe him. “You’re still not all better, so Papa and Mama want to keep an eye on you in case you need us, little one.”

-

The first night home was a struggle. Way was exhausted the next morning. Martin had taken forever to fall asleep, understandably getting really anxious once it had gotten dark. It’d taken hours of rocking and stories and reassurances to get Martin to finally fall asleep, and then the pup had kept waking up throughout the night. After letting him sleep in late in the morning to catch up on his rest, so his bruises would be able to heal, Pete made them breakfast.

Martin was much more eager to eat than he had been in days. He had no problem feeding himself, and even reached out for his juice box when Way brought it over. He was halfway through the fruit slices Pete had cut up for him as part of his breakfast when he gasped and went, “The little house ghosts!”

With everything that had happened, Way had almost completely forgotten about the spirit house in the yard and Martin’s routine of tending to it every morning. Despite them asking him to finish eating first, Martin insisted on gathering up some of his breakfast and his juice box to go make an offering. Once he’d made a little pile in his hands, he hopped off of his chair and hurried over to the back door. “Papa, Mama, come on!”

It was nice to see him excited. They followed him, and Pete opened up the door so Martin could head over to the spirit house. His stool was still there, and though the plate and cup had been cleaned out by either the gardener or housekeeper, they hadn’t been refilled.

Martin put the food and juice into the spirit house, beaming as he cheerfully told them, “I’m back home! Look, I got a new necklace from all the nice uncles at the temple!” Martin lifted up his amulet to the view of the house. It was cute to see him bouncing excitedly. “I’m sorry nobody fed you while I wasn’t home… but I promise I’ll feed you every day!”

Pete put a hand on Way’s shoulder, drawing him close. Way glanced at Pete and could see how relieved he looked to see Martin behaving like normal. Way leaned his head against him.

The pup stayed on the stool for a bit, giggling. Then he turned to his parents and told them with a bright smile, “The little ghosts really like the rice cake!”

Way felt like he’d just gotten a bucket of ice water dumped on him. His smile dropped as Pete asked, “You can still see them?” He gave his mate a nervous look.

He’d been under the impression that the new amulet was supposed to stop Martin’s ability from letting him see any ghosts. Was it not working properly? It seemed to be doing its job keeping away the Phi Tai Hong, but was that all it was doing? Way knew there were plenty of other types of ghosts. What if some other dangerous ones showed up that the amulet couldn’t protect him against? Pete squeezed his shoulder.

Martin looked between them, his own smile fading away. He brought his hands up, fidgeting with his fingers. “Is that bad, Papa?”

“No, little one, it’s not,” Pete told Martin gently, even as he pulled away from Way to go usher the pup off of the stool and away from the spirit house. “Spirit houses have guardian spirits in them. As long as they get offerings and have their nice little house, they’re very good to have around.”

“Okay!”

They kept Martin in the house for the rest of the day. Way got Martin distracted playing with his little racetrack toys, and Pete made a phone call. Way’s own phone buzzed with a text right after, Pete telling him that he’d called to have a monk come over to check on the spirit house. A short while later, there was a knock on the door, and Pete went outside, carrying Banzai in his arms.

“Mama, where are Papa and Banzai going?” Martin asked, growing anxious as Pete left their side for the first time in days to do something other than just letting Banzai out or grabbing something for them.

“He’s just outside, cub. We’ll be able to see him through the door here in a minute.”

Martin clung to him, wanting to be picked up. Way rubbed the boy’s back and went over to the sliding doors. As Pete and the dog came back into view, the pup calmed down.

“Papa’s with a temple uncle!”

Seeing them through the doors, Pete waved to them. Martin waved back, giggling. They watched as Pete and the monk spoke, and as the monk inspected the spirit house. Pete ended up smiling and happily thanked the monk for coming, and after walking him back around to the front, came back inside.

Martin immediately wanted Pete to hold him, so Way passed him over. Pete kissed the pup’s forehead.

“Is everything alright?” Way asked. He wasn’t as nervous now that he was seeing Pete happy, but he wanted to hear what exactly had happened.

“He said that it’s perfectly fine that Martin can still see the guardian spirits in the spirit house. It’s all properly made and blessed, so they’re perfectly safe. His amulet won’t drive off blessed spirits.” Pete poked at Martin’s tummy to make him laugh. “The little ghosts are good to have around, hm? We’ll have to make sure to keep feeding them. And the monk showed Papa how we can make them happier by praying right after giving them their fruit and juice. We’ll start doing that tomorrow.”

-

With things fixed, their lives could return to a relative normal. Martin stayed in their bed each night and wasn’t quite ready to go back to school until his bruises were gone and his sleep schedule was back on track, but Pete could return to work, and Martin could accompany Way to the showroom for a few hours each day. Pete ended up picking up make-up work for Martin from his school so he’d be all caught up once he was ready, so Martin did that while Way dealt with clients.

Pete had a late meeting with an important business partner one night, so Way lost track of the time while they waited for him. Martin had wanted to play with his stuffed animals in his bedroom after they’d gotten into their pajamas. The pup started to nod off, and eventually fell asleep on his bed. Thinking it was still early, Way went to wake him up to have him go to he and Pete’s bedroom instead. But then he noticed the time on Martin’s clock. It was past the pup’s bedtime.

He looked peaceful, so Way didn’t have the heart to move him and risk waking him up, not when they were trying to get his sleep schedule back to normal. All he could do was carefully remove Martin’s necklace to hang it up for the night, and then lay down next to him, moving slowly to not disturb him. Curled up around his pup and surrounded by Martin’s plushies, Way quickly fell asleep as well.

-

Yawning, Martin woke up in the middle of the night, thirsty. He sat up and rubbed his eyes. For a moment he was confused as he looked around, but then realized he was in his own room. Before he could even wonder if that meant he was alone, Martin felt an arm wrap around him. He looked over and could see his mama was sound asleep on his bed too.

Mama was tucked in, and Martin could pick up on the scent of his papa, so that meant Papa had gotten home and said goodnight to them without waking them up. He always tucked in Mama like that and scent-marked them before bed. He heard a little snuffling sound and looked down at the foot of the bed to see Banzai was curled up on top of a large stuffed animal.

Papa was definitely home, then. He’d taken Banzai to work with him, as he always did. Martin crawled over to Banzai to give the dog a kiss on the head, quietly saying goodnight to him.

There wasn’t enough room for Papa on the bed, so he must have been in his own room.

Happy to have figured all of that out, Martin scooted back over to his mama to wake him up so he could ask for some water.

A flash of movement outside the window caught his eye, making Martin freeze. He looked over, and it was a bit too dark to really see what was happening. Nervous, Martin carefully slid off of the bed and made his way over to the window. As he peeked out, he could see a few figures in the yard, but couldn’t make out who they were at all.

He rushed back to the bed, climbing up and shaking his mama awake. “Mama! Mama, wake up!”

Mama woke up, sitting up and almost colliding with him. He held onto him, worried. “Martin? What’s wrong, cub? Did you have a bad dream?”

Banzai also woke up, yipping. The dog bounded over to them. “There’s people outside, Mama,” Martin said.

“What?” Mama got up. He checked his phone and frowned, then headed towards the window. When Martin tried to follow, he was lifted and put back onto the bed. “Stay here, pup.”

Mama went to the window. Martin held onto Banzai. He didn’t like that his mama looked nervous. “Mama?”

“Where were they, pup? I don’t see anyone. The security alarm didn’t go off.”

Martin frowned. Some of them had been right in the middle of the yard. How could they all be gone already? The yard was fenced in, anyway. He went over and looked.

They were all still there. Some of them seemed to be headed towards a figure that was further away, almost where all the trees were. “They’re there! See, Mama?”

“I don’t see anything, pup.” Mama lifted him up. “That monk said your necklace keeps away bad ghosts. They must not be bad ones.”

Martin spotted more movement near the spirit house. “Oh! They’re the little house ghosts, Mama!” he said, delighted. He didn’t know they could get bigger. Papa had said they protected the yard, so Martin guessed he knew that meant they could wander around, but he’d never actually seen it or really thought about it. “One just came out of the little house! And they have a sword. Cool!”

Mama closed the curtain and took him away from the window. For some reason, Mama wasn’t smiling. Martin didn’t get why. Maybe he was too tired to be excited about it? Or because he couldn’t see them?

“They’re probably busy taking care of the yard, pup. Let’s go back to sleep. You don’t want to bother them while they’re working.”

It was important not to bother people while they working, like when Mama and Papa took him to the showroom or the office. Martin nodded. He didn’t want to bother the little ghosts if they were busy.

He remembered why he’d woken up in the first place. “Mama, I’m thirsty. Can I have water, please?”

He had a little cup in his bathroom that he knew how to fill himself, but he wanted his mama to get it for him.

Instead, Mama said, “Let’s go get you some water from the kitchen.” He grabbed Martin’s necklace from his bedpost, and had Martin hold it while they were in the kitchen. Banzai hopped down from the bed to follow them. Martin swung his legs as he was put down to sit on the counter, and was given a little cup of water in his favorite Lightning McQueen sippy cup that his uncle Charlie had given him. Banzai sat next to Mama’s feet and pawed at him. Once he’d had enough water, Mama took him back to his room, bringing the cup in case he wanted more later.

Martin went over to the window again to peek past the curtain. “Ah! They’re gone!” He was a little disappointed.

“Pup, do you want to go sleep with Pete in our room for the rest of the night?”

His disappointment went away and he nodded, excited. “Yeah!” They went to Papa and Mama’s room instead. Papa was asleep, holding onto a pillow. Mama lifted up Martin and put him on the bed. After hanging up his necklace, he climbed right over to Papa and curled up against him.

“Hm?” Papa woke up. Seeing them, he smiled softly. He moved the pillow and let Martin snuggle against him. Mama got onto the bed as well, and Martin felt warm and cozy tucked between them. “I thought you two might spend the night in your room, little one. Did you sleep alright?” Martin nodded. Then he yawned. Papa chuckled and got him and Mama tucked in. He wished them goodnight and gave them each a kiss, and Martin fell asleep to his papa petting his hair.

-

Way brought Martin out to the spirit house after Pete had gone to work. Martin grabbed some fruit to put on the plate in it, and happily did the little prayer thing that Pete had shown him. Way scrolled through his phone as he waited for Martin to finish up talking at the guardian spirits.

“Whoa, really?!” He looked up at Martin’s loud exclamation. The pup looked surprised, but was smiling. He turned to Way and said, “Mama, Mama! The little ghosts said I don’t have to worry about Grandpa anymore!”

That wasn’t what he was expecting Martin to say at all. He didn’t know they could talk to him. Martin had only ever mentioned them doing things, enjoying certain foods or drinks more than others. Way blinked. “Huh?”

“They made him go away forever and said I don’t have to be scared of him ever again!”

“Oh. Huh. That’s nice.”

Martin turned back to the spirit house. “Thank you!”

Way suddenly remembered what had happened during the night. The ghosts in the yard, one with a sword. Could they have…? Way shook his head, not wanting to think too much about it. He didn’t need Martin to see him freaking out over what was a good thing. “Huh. Martin, pup, how about we go out this morning and get breakfast somewhere? After we eat we can buy some nice fruit and soda for the, um, little ghosts.” He at least knew that fruit and soda was the most popular thing to leave as an offering at spirit houses. If they really had solved the problem for good, then it was probably best to thank them properly. He glanced in the house. Besides the plate and cup, there were nice little figurines. “And we’ll see if we can find someplace that sells things to make their house nicer.”

Martin hopped down from his step. He latched onto Way’s leg, excited for their outing. Way put his phone in his pocket and picked up the pup. He thought for a moment and asked Martin, “Is there anything they specifically want?”

The pup reached for the spirit house. Way brought him closer so he could ask. Martin listened intently, and then said, “They want flowers! And more animals.”

There were only two animal shaped figurines in the house. The others were all people. “The dolls?”

“Yeah!”

-

After eating at a small restaurant Way knew from his days in X-Hunter, they headed towards an open market. Martin insisted that the guardian spirits liked sweet things and red things the best, so they found some red fruits that the vendors promised were very sweet. Martin kept getting offered little samples of things from the stands, as he looked very little and still a bit sickly from exhaustion and stress. Way was a bit paranoid that someone would see the bruises on Martin’s neck, so he kept adjusting Martin’s shirt collar, even though it was high enough to cover the marks.

They collected a decent little bag of fruit, and then stopped at a vending machine to get a red Fanta and a Pepsi. Way then looked up where to find more of the figurines for the spirit house, and then let Martin pick out whichever ones he wanted. He wasn’t sure which ones had any meanings or extra significance, but figured they seemed to like Martin, so they’d be happy with whatever Martin picked out himself. Martin selected a handful of animals to add and then they bought a few flower garlands to drape over the spirit house.

With the fruit, drinks, and gifts in hand, they returned home. Martin was too little to get the flowers on, so Way put them on and tried to make sure they wouldn’t fall, thinking of the spirit houses he’d seen in passing to try to place them nicely. They got straws for the drinks and put them in, and some of the fruit.

As Martin put in the new figurines, humming to himself and looking happier than he had in a while, Way texted Pete to update him on the new supernatural events that had occurred in their house.

When Pete immediately called him, Way wondered if he should have sent more than just, ‘Martin says the guardian ghosts killed Tony.’ But he was having trouble processing that without Pete, so that was all he put.

He answered and lifted the phone, stepping away so Martin wouldn’t be distracted. “Is Martin alright? Did he see that? What happened?”

“He’s fine. I think he almost saw it. They told him when he was giving them stuff this morning that he didn’t have to be scared of Tony ever again because they took care of it and made him go away forever.” Way felt a little dizzy. Had he forgotten to take his pills that morning? He’d have to do that as soon as they went back inside. “Last night when he woke me up because he wanted water, he looked out the window and could see them outside in the yard with a sword, so I think they actually killed Tony while we were in the kitchen. Somehow, for the second time.”

Pete was quiet for a moment. Way had to check his phone to make sure he hadn’t accidentally hung up somehow.

“Are you still there? Pete?”

“I’m still here, baby. I, ah… well, that’s… good, I suppose. That's great!”

“Pete!” Way hissed quietly. Martin glanced behind at him and Way gave him a smile and gestured for him to keep going. The pup resumed his humming and put another figurine in. Way couldn’t believe how his mate was taking this much easier than he had.

“Angel, it’s what he deserves. We should thank them.”

At least he’d managed to do something right, at last. “We already did. I took Martin out and we bought a bunch of stuff to put in the spirit house already. Martin is putting the animal dolls in the house right now.”