And then there were five For Amethyst Part 2 A parent. He had no idea of how to be a parent, let alone to a child about to suffer so much loss. At least he was used to feeling overwhelmed. He fell back into old patterns, making a list of what had to be done. The first item was obvious: break the news to Charles. How did he tell someone they were about to walk out on their dying wife, orphaning their only child? Who was he to convince his best friend that leaving was the right choice? That it was the only choice? The weight of looming responsibility threatened to crush him like an olive in a press. David rolled his shoulders back, drawing himself up to his full height, then went to streamline Charles' preparations. That was one thing he could do for both of them. He could give his friend more time to spare for his wife and son. Madeline deserved that extra time. So did Mark. After that? He'd just have to play it by ear. # David had declared Charles' staging area off-limits. They couldn't afford letting anyone get wind that his death was fake, or the Spectrans might figure out who Cronus was, and come after his family. Or, he grimaced at the thought, at least after Mark. But there were some things he refused to do. Telling his best friend that the woman he loved was dying was a task that deserved a personal visit, not hiding behind the sterile contact of a cell phone. Three vehicles, two identity changes, and a security override later, he finally arrived. While he waited inside the specialized shipping container that served as Charles' portable base, he read Madeline's medical file, along with the findings from her research. The materials she'd been studying hadn't been found inside any form of shielding. That begged the question, had the ship they were taken from simply been too damaged, or were the Spectrans immune from the effects? The sound of booted feet finally pulled him out of his thoughts. Charles remained silent, no doubt sensing that something was amiss. David wasn't at all surprised, moments later, to find himself looking down the barrel of a gun. "What the hell are you doing here?" Charles huffed, holstering his weapon. "It's good to see you too." David flipped the cover on his tablet closed. Charles turned and grabbed a bag he'd left in the shadows. "This better be important." "Very," said David, searching for the right words. "It's about Madeline." He saw Charles tense, and David realized the last time he'd uttered those words, their friendship had nearly been destroyed. Charles turned, then began pulling items from the bag, sorting them into the crates he'd been preparing for use on Riga. "She hasn't changed her mind, has she?" Charles spoke in a forced, light tone. "About me going?" "No. She hasn't." "Then what is it? What's so important that you'd risk coming here, after all of your lectures about no one realizing I survived?" David smirked. It wasn't that many lectures. "Charles," he sighed, "Madeline's sick." His friend finally stopped what he was doing. "How sick?" "She's dying." Charles turned to him, frowning. "What do you mean, dying? She was fine this morning." Of all the absurd ... David brought her medical report up on his tablet, then handed it over. He watched with a heavy heart as Charles read, emotions rioting over his face as he tried to absorb the news. "She's known for a week," snapped Charles, looking for a brief moment like he might hurl the tablet into the container's inner wall. "Why didn't she tell me?" David shook his head. While he could guess, he really didn't want to play messenger. Having to tell Charles she was dying was bad enough. "It's best to ask her." His friend began pacing, boots clomping on the container's metal floor. As usual, Charles' expression revealed little, but the tightness in his movement and the way he ran his fingers through his hair betrayed his inner conflict to knowing eyes. "I leave in three days," said Charles, still pacing. David felt like he stood on precipice. Would Charles want to cancel his mission? Postpone it? Could they afford that? "Then don't waste more time talking to me," said David. "Talk to her." Charles finally stopped, nodding. "Just answer one question for me." Seeing the taut line of Charles' stance, David knew what he was going to ask. "I didn't know. Not until she collapsed. I came straight here after she was well secured in the hospital, and stable." "The hospital ..." Charles looked over the crates and boxes, like they might hold the answer. "What will we do about Mark? It's not safe to take him to Riga with me." David hesitated. His friend looked completely lost as he fell back onto task prioritization just as David did earlier. Was it right to say more? Maybe Charles could talk Madeline into another caretaker. Someone who made more sense. Before David could speak, though, Charles shook his head and stormed out. That left David killing more time since they couldn't be seen together. He resumed making lists and plans of what had to be done. At minimum, he would move Madeline and Mark in with him once Charles "died." If Madeline only had three weeks, she was deteriorating rapidly. He might not know children, but even he knew that she wouldn't be able to care for an active four-year-old much longer. Unless Charles pushed back his mission. Or backed out all together.