Advisory Warning: Be aware that the latter half of this chapter. Near the end. Has some very triggering content. The bulk of which includes depictions of r***. Be aware, Be warned, and feel free to skip this portion if you don't wish to read it.
…
#Mc POV#
#Time Skip: Two Weeks#
I yawned as I walked through the school hallways toward the cafeteria, my mind racing. I barely paid attention to the class photos or the countless inspirational posters plastered on every wall. Over the last two weeks, somehow, both everything and nothing had changed.
Since that sleepover with Alex and Maxine, things had mostly stayed the same. Mom and Dad still ran The Waverly, and we were either messing around, going to school, doing homework—or getting into trouble we probably shouldn't have.
But something between me and Alex… shifted. We still talked, still acted like siblings, still loved each other—of course we did. But underneath all that, there was something different. A kind of emotional closeness that bordered on intense. We'd grown more intimate—not in a bad way—yet—I wouldn't let that happen, not inappropriate—at least I didn't think so—but it was undeniably deeper.
Despite Alex's constant antics and borderline rebellious streak, we had this silent dependency on each other. One that I doubted anyone around us could really understand. And the worst part? It was growing stronger, more permanent. Like now that it had made itself known it wasn't going to disappear anytime soon. If at all.
My night terrors had gotten worse—the same nightmare, every single night. The weird lucid dream from the balcony. The memories I shouldn't have. I'd wake up in a cold sweat, panicked, heart racing. And somehow, like she had a sixth sense, Alex was always there.
She'd slip into my room without a sound, sit beside me, hold me. We'd just sit there in the dark, our foreheads touching, as if trying to read each other's minds. And eventually, like clockwork, we'd fall back asleep. By morning, she'd be gone.
The weekdays followed the same routine: we'd all get up, get ready. Mom or Dad would make us breakfast and pack lunches before heading downstairs to open up The Waverly. Then it was off to school.
I reached the big double doors of the cafeteria and walked past them. Same old scene. Long grey pull-out tables arranged in rows. Kids moving from the back of the room, grabbing lunch if they didn't bring their own, then finding a seat with their class or group of friends.
Mom had already packed me a lunch, so I made my way to my usual spot—until I heard it.
"Justin! Over here!"
I looked over and saw Alex and Harper waving me down. I rolled my eyes, lips twitching with a small smile, and walked over.
As I got closer, I noticed someone new sitting across from Harper. Who was wearing in the way way I can describe what a kangaroo would wear if it was a person. Not her worst surprisingly. Also—Alex was wearing another pair of my pants.
Over the past couple weeks, clothes had been mysteriously disappearing from my closet. And, not-so-mysteriously, showing up on Alex. I asked her to stop. A jacket? Fine. I probably wasn't going to wear it again anyway. But jeans? Hoodies? At this point, it was basically theft. She promised she'd stop. That, too, was a lie.
When I reached them, Alex scooted over and made room beside her.
"What's up?" I asked, looking between her and Harper.
They exchanged glances, both raising their eyebrows in sync.
"We just wanted you to sit with us today," Harper said casually. "We always see you sitting alone at lunch."
I blinked, then shrugged. "Okay… that's cool. Thanks, I guess."
They both smiled.
"Oh! And before I forget—meet Zeke." Harper gestured to the guy across from her. He gave a small wave and a shy smile.
"Hi, nice to meet you. My name is Zeke Beakerman. What's your name?" he asked politely.
I looked him over, curious.Zeke had brown hair, black eyes, and honestly, kind of a plain face. Nothing really stood out—but he seemed nice enough, I guess.
"Justin Russo. Nice to meet you, Zeke," I said, reaching my hand out toward him.
He just stared at me, completely baffled. So did Alex and Harper.
Zeke blinked, almost timidly. "What… what are you doing?"
Now I was confused. I looked between them, matching their blank expressions.
"I was offering you a handshake," I said, quickly lowering my hand, suddenly very aware of how weird that probably looked.
Harper giggled, glancing between the two of us."Justin, we're in elementary school. You don't have to be so… adult."
I stared down at my food, not responding. For once, I felt like the only sane person at the table.
Does anyone even teach these kids about respect anymore?
Clearly not.
I glanced back at Zeke while biting into my sandwich. Splendid. Dry. Chewy. Just how I liked it.
"So…" I started, not really sure where to take the conversation.
Alex had her hand clamped over her mouth, visibly shaking as she tried to hold in a laugh. I squinted at her.
"So awkward," she muttered between snickers. "Have either of you had friends before?"
We both answered in perfect unison:"No… why?"
Harper looked like someone had just thrown her brain into a blender. Alex just face-palmed dramatically.
"It's like leading two horses to water and watching them drown," Alex said.
"Agreed," Harper added, equally exasperated.
Harper leaned forward, hopeful. "Why not be each other's friend?"
Zeke and I glanced at each other, then quickly looked away.
"I don't know about that," Zeke muttered—not timid this time, just… honest.
I shook my head in agreement, already feeling the awkward sweat forming.
"Oh, come on," Harper pushed, glancing at Alex for backup. "You totally could. Right, Alex? Like… what do you guys even have in common?"
She waved a hand between us like we were two puzzle pieces just begging to click.
"Don't even include me in this. Let them figure it out. You're on your own with this one," Alex said, taking a bite of her sandwich while staring at me. Intensely.
I thought about it for a second."Do you like robots?" I asked.
Zeke perked up almost immediately, clearly excited."Yeah!" he said—then accidentally smacked his hand into his lunch tray, sending bits of food flying across the table.
"Oops," he muttered.
The three of us tried to keep it together, but we couldn't help laughing at his expense.
"It's alright—here, let me help," I said, grabbing a few napkins to clean up the mess.
"Thanks," he replied, looking a little embarrassed.
"No problem. Hey... want to come over after school? I can show you my DIY robot model," I asked, a bit hesitant.
He looked up at me."Mmm, sure," he said.
"Oh my god, see? It's not that hard to make friends," Harper said, clearly frustrated.
We both looked at her."We're not friends—just two dudes meeting up," Zeke said, shaking his head in agreement with me.
Harper looked even more confused.
"What... you're about to hang out after school. You are friends now," she said, exasperated—like she was one breath away from an aneurysm.
We both sighed and shook our heads.
"Nope. Just two dudes hanging out," I said.
Harper glanced between us while Alex continued to stare at me.
Finally, Harper threw her hands up in defeat and let out a dramatic sigh, just as a couple of kids at nearby tables looked over.
"Fine. You two aren't friends. I give up," she muttered.
"Finally!" Alex said, grinning. "You were fighting an uphill battle there."
Zeke and I glanced at each other, then nodded in agreement."You should've given up sooner," I said.
Harper looked around, clearly offended."What do you want from me? I'm wounded. Offended!" she exclaimed, clutching her chest dramatically. "Alas, I thought I was doing you all a favor. Clearly, I was mistaken." With a theatrical sigh, she fell back into her seat.
"Harper," Alex, Zeke, and I said in unison, grimacing.
Ring!Ring!
"Well, looks like lunch is over. See you later, Justin," Alex said, giving me such a quick hug you'd doubt it even happened. She sprang up and grabbed Harper—still pretending to faint like some tragic heroine—and dragged her off.
Zeke and I exchanged a look as we stood."See you after school," he said, a little more confidently than usual. We nodded to each other and headed our separate ways.
I tossed my trash in the bin and walked out of the cafeteria, thinking, Well... that was new.
I left class later with my brain feeling like mush. I was taking extra courses for advanced credit—not that they were hard. The problem was I already knew most of it.
The more time passes, the more the memories settle. The more I can sift through them. The more they feel like... me. And the other version of me—well, he may have been a lot of things, but dumb wasn't one of them.
Which honestly would've been easier.
Instead, I'm stuck in a class no one my age should even be in, bored out of my mind. It's frustrating.
As I walked out of the school's tall double doors, I found a spot by a lamppost and waited. The final bell rang, and students came pouring out in waves.
Eventually, I spotted Zeke, Alex, and Harper walking out together, laughing. Alex caught sight of me, froze like a deer in headlights—then sprinted toward me.
She mock-tackled me into a hug and let go just as fast."Sorry it took us so long," she said, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "Our teacher decided we just had to get extra homework."
I looked at her with a knowing smirk."Homework that you're probably not going to do."
She punched me in the shoulder."Shush. So how are you feeling today, Mr. Genius?" she asked, her face full of snark—but her eyes held a flicker of concern.
I shook my head."I'm fine, really, Alex. Everything's fine." I offered her a reassuring look.
Just then, Harper and Zeke pushed their way through the crowd of kids.
"So… are we still going to see that DIY robot?" Zeke asked, shifting on his feet.
I nodded.
He blinked at me, puzzled."What does that even mean?"
Without answering, I turned and started walking.
"What do you think?" I called over my shoulder, gesturing for them to follow.
Zeke trotted after us, still confused."No, but seriously—what does that mean?"
...
On the subway, Alex and Harper sat across from me and Zeke, whispering and gossiping like they were on some secret mission. Zeke leaned over, lowering his voice into a faux Australian accent.
"Look at them. Two lionesses in their natural habitat… communicating in an odd frequency of purrs."
I tried my hardest not to laugh. I failed.
Alex and Harper turned toward us instantly.
"We heard that," Alex said, hurling her shoe at Zeke with scary precision.
Harper giggled and glanced at me.
I raised my hands in mock surrender."I didn't say a word."
Zeke rubbed his forehead and shot me a betrayed look.
"Hey, I really didn't!" I said. "Every man for himself in these jungles."
Then Harper's shoe smacked me in the forehead, too.
Rubbing my head now, I muttered, "I didn't even really say anything."
She gave me a look—equal parts annoyance and amusement. As well as something else. "Close enough, Justin. Close enough."
I looked at Zeke, rubbing the side of my head, equal parts annoyed and amused."Look what you did."
He shot me a smug grin."I didn't do anything. Every man for himself in these jungles, right, lioness?"
Before I could respond, both shoes came flying back at us.
Whap. Whap.
The train screeched to a stop.
Zeke groaned, rubbing his forehead again as we all stood and shuffled toward the doors. Around us, students—some younger, some older—and a handful of tired-looking adults flooded out onto the platform.
We moved with the crowd, but just for a second—I lost sight of Alex and Harper.
I turned to Zeke."Hey, did you see where they went?"
He shook his head, glancing around."Nah. They'll probably be fine."
We were nearly off the train when something hit me—a cold chill ran up my spine, and my gut twisted hard. I looked back, scanning the crowd.
Still no sign of them.
Something's wrong.
I looked at Zeke and forced a calm smile."Stay here for a second. I'm gonna go look for them."
Without waiting for a response, I turned and pushed back through the crowd. The train was thinning out now, people shuffling toward exits, some already gone. I looked left, then right. Still nothing.
I pushed open the connecting doors to the next car.
Then I saw them—at the far end.
Three guys. Older. Rough around the edges. Towering.
And they were surrounding two girls.
It had to be them.
My pace quickened into a sprint, heart pounding in my ears as I tried to catch what they were saying.
As I got closer, the scene sharpened.
One of the guys—broad-shouldered, with a greasy ponytail and a voice like sandpaper—was leaning in too close to Harper, blocking her path. Alex stood beside her, stiff and glaring, her jaw clenched tight.
I slowed just enough to listen.
"C'mon, sweetheart," Greasy Ponytail said. "No need to be shy. We're just trying to talk."
The other two flanked them, fake smiles stretched across their faces, hands resting a little too close to their belts.They didn't just look like punks—they looked calculated. Like they'd done this before.
Alex, trying to play it cool despite the flicker of worry in her eyes, shot back,"We already told you we weren't interested."
Ponytail didn't budge."Oh, come on. There's plenty to talk about. Plenty we could teach you. Right, boys?"
The other two nodded, disgusting, lustful looks in their eyes.
The second I heard it, I didn't think. My body just moved.
"Hey!" I shouted, my voice sharp and loud, echoing through the nearly empty train car.
All three heads snapped toward me.
Alex's eyes locked with mine—a flash of relief. Harper's body stayed tense, still, but something in her expression softened. Steadier now.
Greasy Ponytail raised an eyebrow, stepping toward me with lazy arrogance."You got a problem, kid?"
I stopped about ten feet away."Yeah. You're in my friends' way."
He laughed like I'd just performed stand-up."Your friends?" He looked back at his crew. "You hear that? Hero boy over here thinks he's in a movie."
The tallest cracked his knuckles."Cute."
Behind them, Alex reached down, grabbed one of her shoes, and gave me that look. The please don't be an idiot one.
But it was too late for that.
Something in me shifted. My face hardened. Cold. Detached. I didn't wear that look often—maybe never actually—but still it slid into place like muscle memory.
Right foot back. Left foot forward. Hands up. Fists tight. Eyes narrowed. Locked in. Unblinking. Like a snake just before the strike.
Greasy Ponytail's grin widened."Maybe we do wanna stick around. What're you gonna do about it?"
They started toward me.
I looked back at Alex—her face was full of worry, but I didn't waver.
I cracked my knuckles. Quiet. Focused. Preparing myself.
"This train's about to clear out," I said, my voice flat, steady. "You really wanna be here when it does?"
They laughed again, but this time it came out thinner.
Then one of them pulled a switchblade.
Great.
I sighed. I knew this might get bloody. Not for me—for them. Something deep inside whispered that truth like it had always known it.
I took a step forward, calm but ready. A hundred possible outcomes raced through my head in the space of a heartbeat. Only one ended with all of us walking away.
I locked that one in.
If I had to fight, I had to win. Period. Damn the consequences.
We were almost toe to toe when—Harper, ever the wildcard, stepped up and spoke loud enough for the car to hear.
"I told you we weren't interested. Do you not speak English, or are you just that dumb?"
…Okay, not the most de-escalating move. But it worked.
Greasy Ponytail's smirk cracked. His eyes flicked to the doors.Only a handful of people remained, and a station worker now stood at the far end, watching.
He clicked his tongue, thinking it over.
"Lucky day, hero boy," he muttered, stepping back. "Next time, don't bring your sisters to a grown-up train."
The three of them walked off like they owned the world.
The second they disappeared through the doors, Alex let out a long breath. Harper crossed her arms, tense, scared, and pissed.
I jogged up to them.
"You okay?" I asked.
"We were," Alex said, "until you decided to go full action movie."
"Sure you were," I said. "Like anything you said was actually working."
Harper half-smiled. "Not that I'm ungrateful or anything, but seriously—what if they had, like… weapons?"
"I didn't exactly think it through," I admitted. Not mentioning the knife. They didn't need to know that.
"Clearly."
And then—right on cue—Zeke poked his head through the door.
"Is this where the robot exhibit is? Or…?"
We all stared at him.
He blinked."…What? Did I miss something?"
Alex and Harper burst out laughing, and I couldn't help but join them.Relief cracked through the adrenaline still buzzing in my chest, and for the first time in minutes, I felt my heart start to slow down.
That was… what was that?I didn't know how to box. Or fight. Or pull off half the things I'd imagined in that moment. And yet—I felt like I could. I'd been ready to go there. I wanted to.
I wanted to kill them.
The thought dropped heavy into my chest.
But then I looked at Harper and Alex—saw the echoes of fear still lingering in their eyes. And that was it. Damn the consequences. Forget it.
Without saying a word, I walked over and pulled them both into a hug.They froze for a second, surprised—then wrapped their arms around me just as tight. No questions. Just quiet understanding.
Letting them go, I turned to Zeke."Good timing. You did miss something—we'll explain on the way," I said, giving him a fist bump.
He blinked, confused. "Should I be concerned? You guys look, like… really serious."
I shook my head. "Nah. We're good now."
As we stepped off the train, ignoring the glances and walked past the few people that were left there, I looked back at the station worker and raised my hand. "Thanks!" I called out.
He yelled back, "Don't worry about it. Y'all okay?"
We all threw a thumbs-up without breaking stride—just eager to get out of there.
What I didn't see was the look the station worker gave me as we disappeared around the corner.
Like something about me unsettled him.
Made him afraid.
...
"Hold up—you guys live in a restaurant?!" Zeke blurted as we walked into the Waverly.
The rest of us stared at him like he'd grown a second head.
"Of course not, Zeke," Harper said, deadpan. "They live above it. Actually."
Zeke gave her an exasperated look. "Harper, that's basically the same thing."
Me and Alex couldn't help but laugh.
"Alright, settle down," I said, chuckling as we walked up to the counter.
Dad looked up and gave us a quick wave before turning back to finish a customer's order. When he was done, his attention shifted back to us.
"Hey, kids. How was school?" he asked. Then his eyes moved to Harper, and finally Zeke. "And how are you, Harper? And who's this?"
His voice was friendly—classic Dad—but there was always a quiet depth in it. Like he was measuring something you didn't know he was measuring.
His voice was friendly—classic Dad—but there was always a quiet depth to it. Like he was measuring something you didn't even know you were putting out.
"School was school.""It was alright."Me and Alex answered almost in unison.
He smiled and turned to Harper and Zeke.
"Hi, Mr. Russo. I'm alright," Harper said sweetly, then added, "And to answer your question—this is Zeke. Justin's friend."
The second the word friend left her mouth, Dad's eyes widened like a cartoon character.You'd think someone had hit him with a defibrillator.
"Harper… can you repeat what you just said?" he asked, stepping back like she'd announced the end of the world. "Because I thought you said Justin's friend. As in Justin—has a friend."
He clutched his chest dramatically, teetering like he was about to faint.Alex, Harper, and Zeke lost it.
Alex literally fell to the floor, smacking the tiles with her hand as she laughed at my expense.Assholes.
Harper wiped a tear from her eye. "Nope. You heard me right."
Before me and Zeke had a chance to explain that we weren't really friends, Dad looked at Zeke, then at me, then spun around and bolted into the kitchen."Honey! Come here! It's an emergency!"
Mom's voice called back, laced with worry. "What happened?!"
Dad didn't skip a beat. "Justin has a friend! Here! Now!"
There was a loud crash—plates, maybe bowls—then a clatter.
"WHAT?! You're joking!"
The kitchen doors burst open. Mom came flying through, still wearing oven mitts and an apron. Her eyes locked onto Zeke like he was some kind of mythological creature.
"This?" she said, pointing at Zeke like he was a UFO. "This is the friend?"
Zeke looked around, half-smiling, half-concerned for his safety. "Uhh… hi?"
Mom walked up to him slowly, narrowing her eyes like she was scanning for hidden wires. Then suddenly—boom—she cupped his face in her hands.
"You have eyebrows," she said, marveling. "And a full set of teeth. Oh my God. You're… real. You're not fake or imaginary!"
Zeke blinked. "I get that a lot?"
Harper and Alex were howling again. I swear, Alex looked like she was gonna fall over twice in one day.
Mom turned back to me like she was on the verge of tears. "Justin… sweetie… you made a friend. With a human. I'm just so—so proud of you."
I groaned. "Mom…"
Dad reemerged with a broom in one hand and his phone in the other. "I called your uncle Kelbo. He doesn't believe me."
Zeke raised a hand awkwardly. "Hi, I'm Zeke. I like robots, mango-flavored candy, and apparently causing full-blown emotional breakdowns in parents."
"You're funny too?" Mom gasped, hand to her heart. "He's funny? Justin. Keep him."
"Mom!"
"Okay, okay, I'm just saying! When you have a unicorn in the house, you don't just pretend it's a horse!"
Maxine came running from upstairs, her voice echoing ahead of her. "What's all the noise about?"
Mom spun to her with the biggest smile I'd ever seen. "Your brother made a friend."
Maxine froze mid-step. "WHAT?!"
She stared at me like I'd grown wings—or, worse, cleaned my room without being told.
Zeke leaned toward me and whispered, "Your mom is kinda intense."
"Bro, this is her on decaf," I whispered back.
Mom clapped her hands suddenly. "We're making brownies. For the guest. No arguments!"
Zeke's eyes lit up. "Did you say brownies?"
And just like that, he was officially one of us.
...
After closing up the Waverly, We spent the next hour upstairs, the warm scent of chocolate filling the entire apartment. Zeke had somehow charmed Mom into letting him "supervise" the brownies, which really meant sticking his finger in the batter every two minutes.
Harper was camped out on the couch, half-watching a sci-fi show, half-gossiping with Alex with Dad and Maxine beside them.
Me? I was staring out the window, pretending to listen. Something in my chest still hadn't settled.
The laughter faded into the background as my mind circled back—To the train.To the way my body moved before I even thought.To how… calm I was. Too calm. Like I'd done that before.
But I hadn't. I know I hadn't. Not in this life.
And yet—When that guy pulled out the knife, my hands didn't shake. My knees didn't buckle. I felt nothing. Except for a cold, focused certainty: If I have to fight… I win. No matter what. Damn the consequences.
Why?
I blinked. My reflection stared back at me in the darkened glass of the window. Something about it made my stomach twist.The look in my eyes. It wasn't me. Not the usual me.
I looked… older. Sharper. Like someone else had taken the wheel.
Behind me, the others laughed at some dumb joke Zeke made about Harper secretly being a government robot. It was normal. Everything looked normal.
But I couldn't shake it.
And then—like an echo—I heard it again.
If I have to fight… I win. Damn the Consequences.
If I have to kill them to protect everyone. Then I will kill them with cruelty in my heart. I am the storm. A storm that has no mercy.
A whisper, barely there. Not in my ears. In my mind.
"Hey, Justin," Maxine said, snapping me out of my thoughts. She stood there with a brownie in both hands, holding one up to me like it was a peace offering from the gods."You want one?"
I smiled, brushing away whatever was lingering in my head. "Sure."
I took it and bit in—rich, gooey, still warm. Decadent wasn't even the word.
"Hey, Zeke," I called, watching him dual-wield brownies like it was a competitive sport. "You still wanna check out that DIY robot?"
He looked up, cheeks puffed out like a chipmunk, and nodded. "Sure," he said, setting his plate down, already halfway to the door.
Just as we were about to slip upstairs, Dad poked his head out from the living room."Hey, do you guys mind heading downstairs to the Waverly freezer and grabbing some ice cream for me?"
Zeke and I looked at each other and shrugged. "Yeah, we're on it."
We stepped out into the stairwell, heading down toward the back of the restaurant. The air got cooler with every step, thick with the scent of bread, oregano, and cleaning supplies.
"So..." Zeke started, a little grin on his face. "We can be friends now?"
I gave him a look like he'd just kicked a puppy. "After my family made you honorary royalty with brownies? Now you wanna be friends?"
He squinted like he was weighing the decision seriously. "Yep," he said, with zero shame.
I rolled my eyes. "Sure, whatever. I guess."
We pushed through the swinging kitchen doors, walking past the stove and the sink, into the cool hum of the prep area. The big industrial freezer loomed at the back—silver, humming quietly.
Zeke opened it, sticking his head in like he was looking for buried treasure."Man," he said, peering around, "with how big this thing is, I wouldn't be surprised if you could make, like… a secret hideout in here. Though you'd definitely freeze to death, so… kinda a tradeoff."
And then—A tremor ran through my mind. Not pain. Not fear.
Recognition.
For a moment, it wasn't just a freezer. It was something else.
Cold stone. Brown bookshelves, Glowing light. Symbols I didn't understand but somehow knew. A room buried behind walls. And magic. Lots of magic.
Wasn't there…Wasn't there a magical lair here once?
The thought hit like déjà vu, but heavier. Like memory coated in dust.
I could remember the other me, sitting down as a kid. On a TV screen there was a freezer. And then a second later it was a lair. I tried to remember harder.
But before I could chase it—
"Okay, got it!" Zeke called, holding up a couple pints like trophies. "Let's roll."
I blinked. The freezer was just a freezer again. But the chill hadn't left my spine.
More than a chill. Curiosity.
We turned to head back upstairs.
I couldn't help but think. I try my best to ignore it. But in his reality. In my old reality this was a Tv show. And that freezer was a magical lair.
Potentially a answer to a couple of questions.
It was something I would look into later.
No matter what.
…
Dad got his ice cream. Zeke got to see the DIY robot—after trying very hard to convince me to let him keep it. I did. It wasn't that important.
Later, Dad drove Harper and Zeke home. The rest of us cleaned up, trying to settle back into normal life. Maxine begged for more brownies like she was training for a sugar Olympics.
Eventually, Dad came back. Everyone said goodnight, retreating to their rooms.
Alex gave me a long, lingering look before she closed her door—part worry, part anticipation, mixed with an emotion I didn't have enough time to catch, and part something else. Something I still couldn't put my finger on.
I lay in the dark. Staring at the ceiling.
Thinking.
About Zeke.About the train. About what happened… and what almost happened.
About what could have happened to them if I didn't show up. About what I'd done. About what I was ready to do.
Sleep avoided me for a long time.
Until finally…
…my eyes grew heavy, and I sank beneath the surface of sleep like slipping into a pool of ink.
At first, nothing. Just darkness. The kind of deep, still dark that feels ancient.
Then—like a match lit in a cave—something flickered.
I was standing in front of the freezer.
The air was humming with magic.
But it wasn't the Waverly anymore. Not exactly. The kitchen around me was distorted, edges soft and unreal, like a memory halfway remembered. Surrounded by a black box. Almost like I was in a Tv. The walls pulsed faintly with light, symbols dancing beneath the paint like they were alive and breathing.
I reached for the freezer handle.
It was warm.
A soft click echoed as it opened, and instead of shelves and frozen peas, there was a staircase spiraling down into blue light. The walls were lined with ancient stone, etched with glowing glyphs that shifted and changed if you looked too long.
I descended, one step at a time.
The further down I went, the more I felt it. Like electricity crawling along my skin. A voice whispered—not in my ears, but in my bones.
"You remembered."
I stepped into the lair.
Bookshelves stretched up impossibly high, filled with volumes that shimmered when I glanced at them. A cauldron bubbled quietly in the corner. Floating candles hovered near the ceiling. And in the center of the room, resting on a table carved from the trunk of some ancient tree—was a wand.
It pulsed faintly. As if it had been waiting.
My hand moved on its own, reaching out.
The moment my fingers touched the wand—WHOOM.
A surge of energy shot through me. Memories that weren't mine—yet were—flashed behind my eyes. Me casting spells. Me fighting monsters. Me laughing with—
Alex. Harper. Maxine. Even Zeke. And others.
Like we'd all done this before.
Except Maxine was not a girl.
I gasped—and sat up in bed.
Heart pounding. Chest tight. My shirt clinging to me with sweat.
It was still night.
The city buzzed faintly outside my window.
But that feeling… that charge...
It was still there.
I looked toward my door. Toward the kitchen. Toward the freezer downstairs.
I had to know.
Not tonight. But soon.
Because if that dream was a memory…
Then that lair?
It wasn't fiction… and this wasnt reality.
I thought as I took my hands from under my covers. Looking at them. I thought.
Since when did I have six fingers.
As suddenly millions of cockroaches and spiders began coming from under my bed. Crawling on top of my covers. Crawling on top of me. Suffocating me. I gagged on them. Tried swatting them away. But there were too many. I couldn't stop it. I felt like I was dying… As headlights flashed in my eyes. A car came swerving. Then a crash…
Suddenly I was back there on the train as Alex and Harper were being backed into a corner. Except this time I wasn't there to help. Those three guys. They were touching them. Kissing them. Doing things to them that left me boiling in absolute Rage. With tears in my eyes.
Alex and Harper tried to fight them off. Harper hitting them as hard as she could. Alex using her teeth to try and hurt them. But they couldn't. They were overpowered. Then things took a turn for the worse. Those guys started… they started taking their clothes off. Forcing them to lay on the ground as they both cried. Yelled. Kicked. Screamed, asking for them to stop. They never did. As they got naked themselves. And put themselves on top of them. Putting themselves inside of them. As they began huffing, and puffing. Moving in and out. One was on top of Harper. The other two were on top of Alex. Using her. Using them. Using their mouths. Using their… By the time they were finished. Alex and Harper were covered in bruises and the white substance of those guys. Beaten and battered. Dried boogers in their nose. Dried tears in their eyes. Throw up on the floor. Both of them had this dead look in their eye. As if Alex and Harper checked out of life a long time ago. I would have thought they were dead… If they weren't still breathing.
I tried to move, to scream, to do something.
But I couldn't.
I couldn't stop it. I hadn't stopped it.
And deep inside, that guilt… it rooted itself in me like a disease.
Something was whispering again. Not a voice. A memory.
"You were supposed to protect them."
I screamed.
And screamed.
And screamed some more.
As the lucid dream I had on the balcony replayed itself. The whispers. The screams. The dream shifted again—flickering through flashes I didn't recognize. Then memories from my alternatives forgotten past came playing in my mind. The orphanage. The beatings. The killings. All of it echoing over and over again in my mind…
"Aaaahhhhhh!"
The scream ripped out of me like it had been trapped for years.
I shot upright in bed, drenched in sweat, lungs clawing at the air. My hands trembled as I tore the covers off and curled into myself, head pressed to the mattress, knees pulled to my chest. My heart was slamming so hard I couldn't hear anything else.
I couldn't breathe.I couldn't breathe.
It was like my lungs were burning, dancing in my chest like they were on fire. The world tilted. Every sound stretched and warped. My heartbeat thundered in my ears like war drums.
Panic attack.
I felt like I was drowning in my own body. Like nothing was real. Like I wasn't real.
I couldn't breathe. I couldn't think.
Then—arms.
Two arms wrapped around me, strong and grounding, warm, pulling me upright. I looked up through tear-blurred eyes and saw her.
Alex.
She didn't say anything at first. She just moved, fast and instinctive, like she'd done this before. In a way she had. Just not this bad before. She climbed into my lap and pulled me close, arms wrapped tight around me like an anchor in a storm. Like she could will the storm out of me by sheer force.
Her voice was right in my ear, soft but firm.
"Breathe, Justin. Just breathe." She whispered, her voice breaking.
I was still crying. Still gasping. Every breath felt like a knife. But she didn't let go.
"I love you," she whispered again, voice cracking. "Please, breathe. For me. I'm begging you."
Her grip tightened around me. Like she knew if she let go, I'd slip away.
"I love you," she whispered. "Come back. Please."
And the way she said it—Like it hurt her to watch me like this. Like she'd shatter if I broke any more.
Her hands pressed against my back, steady and warm. Her heartbeat against mine, slow and certain. Calm and steady.
I clung to her like she was the only real thing left in the world as she began to cry.
Somehow her heartbeat started to sync with mine.
Her voice anchored me in a sea of panic.
And little by little…
I started to breathe.
As my breathing began to slow, the storm in my chest finally started to quiet. A crushing exhaustion seeped into my bones, like my body had been fighting for hours instead of minutes. I was drained—physically, mentally, emotionally. Just tired.
Alex, still wrapped around me, let out a shaky breath. She wiped her tears on my shoulder, trying to steady herself too. Her arms loosened, just enough for her to lift her head and look at me.
Her eyes were red, glassy, full of worry.
"What was that, Justin?" Her voice was soft, hoarse. "What kind of nightmare could do that to you?"
There was desperation in her words. A quiet kind of pleading. Like she wanted to understand, but already knew she might not want the answer.
I looked away.
"I can't tell you," I said, voice barely more than a whisper. "Believe me… you don't wanna know. If I did… you'd be the one needing comfort next."
She stared at me a moment longer, something unreadable flickering in her eyes—pain, maybe. Or fear. Or both.
Then, slowly, she leaned in and pressed a gentle kiss to my forehead. It lingered there longer than I expected, longer than what was appropriate, soft and warm. When she pulled back, her gaze was steady. Tender.
"Let's sleep," she murmured. "I'm not going anywhere. I'll be right here, the whole time. So rest… okay?"
I gave a small nod.
We laid back down, the covers drawn up around us, wrapping ourselves in what little comfort the night had left. I curled closer to her—closer than I'd ever let myself before. Like she was the only solid thing in a world that wouldn't stop spinning.
I kissed the top of her head.
Then pressed my face into the pillow beside her.
And this time, when sleep came for me—
I let it.
…
The next morning was the usual chaos. Maxine was dragging a brush through her hair like it owed her money. Alex was double-checking her schoolbag with surgical precision. And Mom? Mom was waging war with the coffee machine.
"You'd think being married to a man who used to be a electrician would make this thing work properly!" she growled.
Dad, flipping pancakes like a zen master, if a zen master didn't know what he was doing, and was burning everything, just chuckled. "I used to be an electrician. Not a coffee machine mechanic, honey."
"...Also y'all should really stop letting me in the kitchen."
"Try hitting it," Alex mumbled, staring at the toaster like it had personally wronged her.
I tried to act normal—eat some toast, keep the weirdness in my head locked away for now. But every time I looked at the door, the one that led downstairs… it buzzed in my head. Like the door knew I knew.
Then Zeke barged in through the front, out of breath and wide-eyed. "Okay, hear me out—what if the DIY robot wasn't just for fun, and I accidentally built a war machine that's now self-aware?"
I blinked. "What?"
"I named it Beepz. It talked to me this morning. Like—talked talked. It asked for a sibling."
Harper, who had just arrived behind him, tossed her bag down. "I told you not to name it!"
Maxine popped her head in from the hallway. "Wait—can I be its sibling?"
Zeke looked horrified. "No offense, Maxine, but Beepz has enough chaos energy already."
As everyone argued about killer robots and sibling rights, I slipped a glance toward the door again.
Something told me all of this—Beepz, Zeke, even that stupid freezer—wasn't just coincidence.
This wasn't a rerun of my past life's childhood.
This was a whole new episode.
And I was done pretending I didn't hear the theme music.
…
I woke up to silence.
But something was different.
Inside me, something had shifted. Subtle, but real. Like a door had creaked open somewhere deep in my chest—and I wasn't sure it could be shut again.
My skin was damp with sweat. My heart was steady now, but the echo of something heavy still pressed behind my ribs.
Alex was still asleep beside me, her breathing slow and soft, one arm draped across my waist like she'd refused to let go even in her dreams.
I sighed and wiped my hand across my face.
"Oh, come on. Again?" I muttered to myself.
Like I was mad at my own subconscious for pulling the late shift.
I flopped back down onto the pillow, frustration giving way to tired resignation. I curled in close to Alex again, resting my forehead against her hair. She stirred slightly but didn't wake.
I didn't deserve her.
But I held her anyway.
And this time… sleep came easier.
…