Fletcher kept one hand on his dad’s back as they took the stairs up to the apartment because Sebastian was too stubborn to wait for the elevator. It held its usual smell of vomit and alcohol, the intensity of which worsened his headache after a day and a half of minimal sleep and excess stress.

  The hospital had been a relatively quick trip, with the doctor’s confirming his father had nothing worse than a minor concussion with expected soreness for the next few days. Overall, none the worse for wear. It was a relief for Fletcher who recognized that this mishap was entirely his fault, the guilt eating away at him as they made their way home.

  “You worry too much, Fletcher,” his dad said, as if reading his mind. “It was an accident and nothing more. I don’t want this bothering you while you’re here. I just want to enjoy spending the holidays together, alright?”

  “Sure, Dad,” he lied as they reached their floor and exited into the beat up hallway.

  “I can’t believe you managed to get an entire month off of work. Your job must not be all that important if they can do without you for so long,” his father continued, the tone in his voice hinting that he was going to rehash the arguments they’d had repeatedly before Fletcher left for Bren’it’p at all.

  “It’s not that my job isn’t important. It’s that I just wanted to see you a little longer,” he said.

  “I’m just happy you’re home.” And Sebastian actually seemed to mean it.

  It hadn’t quite been the surprise Fletcher had hoped for in seeing his dad again, but it was nice to be with him again, especially after the chaos of the assassination and everything afterwards.

  “Me too,” he replied as they entered the apartment. It was like walking back into his childhood, and he enjoyed the rush of safety that accompanied being in the space again. A glance back at his dad reminded him that that safety was only an all-to-delicate illusion, and he forced himself not to frown again and tip his dad off to his thoughts.

  “Who else knows you’re back?” Sebastian asked. “And how about we order pizza for dinner? I’m sure you’ve been missing that.”

  “Pizza sounds great. Can we get meat-lovers?” Fletcher slid his backpack off his tired shoulders, his right one still fairly sore from the stab wound from three days prior. “And no one else knows. It was meant to be a surprise, for you and everyone else.”

  “Why don’t I call up Maya and her family? They can come celebrate, an impromptu ‘welcome home’ party,” his father offered.

  Fletcher shook his head. “Honestly, I’d rather hang out just us tonight. I’m pretty tired after the train ride. Who knew sitting for twenty-eight hours could be so grueling?”

  His dad grabbed his shoulder—the sore one, of course, so it took all of his self-control to not flinch and give his secret away—and smiled. “A guys’ night then. I’ll order the pizza, you go put your stuff away and relax for a minute.”

  “You’re the one who nearly died, Dad. Let me handle it. You go sit.” Fletcher reached for his dad’s phone.

  “I’m still your father. Now go.” Sebastian moved the phone firmly out of his reach and motioned to his old bedroom.

  “Thanks, Dad,” Fletcher said as he picked up his backpack and made his way to the bedroom-turned-library. A sense of comfort filled him as he gazed at his broad collection of books, something he hadn’t realized he missed so badly until he was back. He dropped his backpack on the bed and took a deep breath, relishing the smell of paper surrounding him. It was good to be home.

  Grabbing a random book off the shelf nearest to him, Fletcher flopped on the bed and opened it to the middle, not caring about what he read, only that he got to read. The three books he’d taken with him to Bren’it’p had all been read already, and he was eager for something new.

  It seemed only a few minutes passed when his dad was calling for him, declaring the pizza had arrived. With a sigh, Fletcher closed the book and went to join his father in the dining room where two steaming boxes sat on the table. They then settled on the couch with their food, and, as expected, his father grilled him on everything that happened in the past three months, eager to hear of Fletcher’s adventures.

  It was all Fletcher could do to avoid discussing the most acute anti-humanist incidents, things that would only fuel his father’s worries next time they fought about Fletcher having taken the job in the first place.

  “I’m glad that you’re settling in there alright, but don’t get too comfortable. I do expect you to move back at some point,” Sebastian said pointedly, setting his long-since emptied plate down on the coffee table. “Honestly, I’m shocked you haven’t run into more problems with being the first and only Human in the city. I’m not saying all Unhumans are bad people, but a lot of the merchants I told about your situation seemed a little nervous for your safety.”

  “Nah. It’s great. Early on there were some problems, but there’s been nothing for weeks.” Fletcher forced a smile.

  His dad looked at him, meeting his eyes. “Fletcher, if something did happen, it’s not your fault. You know that, right?”

  “Huh? Yeah, of course. Why would it be?” He shrugged to make himself seem more casual. “I mean, there was that incident with a [Yeti] and an [Undine] and a fountain, but that was months ago.”

  “Yeah?”

  “Yeah,” Fletcher said. “It’s not a big deal. Things happen.” He cleared his throat. “Are you finished? I’ll go clean up.” Grabbing his father’s empty plate and stacking it over his own, he stood from the couch.

  “I heard there was a terrorist attack on a train heading to Bren’it’p around the time you went out. Did you hear anything about it?” his dad asked.

  Fletcher paused. “Yeah. It was my train. They killed a [Dwarf] in the same car as me, but I was fine.”

  His father sighed. “Why didn’t you ever mention it? I’m worried about you out there alone.”

  “Which is why I didn’t mention it. You’re too old to be worrying this much.”

  His father stood and grabbed his shoulder. “Fletcher Anders, don’t you start that with me. I’m only going to worry more if I think you’re intentionally leaving the bad stuff out when I hear from you. I promise that I’m far more capable than you seem to believe. Since when did you start seeing me as an elderly invalid?”

  “That’s not what I meant…” He bit his lip. “Alright, fine. From here on out, I’ll tell you everything,” he lied. “Do you know why the Hexed Humans attack the Unhumans so frequently? They seem to mostly leave the Humans alone, but I’ve always been told they hate both sides.”

  Sebastian frowned. “The Humans only hand over the Mixhumans because they have to in order to keep the Treaty alive and survive. The Unhumans actively kill the Mixhumans they receive from us, according to the Hexed Humans that it is.”

  “I’ve only ever heard the Hexed Humans refer to themselves as Mixhumans.” He was a little surprised with how casually his dad spoke of the terrorists.

  “They used to be Mixhumans to everyone, but once they embraced the term, the government decided to find something new. It’s all just politics and mind games,” his father explained.

  “If the Hexed Humans are right, then Mom is dead,” Fletcher said quietly. He’d always spent his childhood imagining his mother safe and happy in whatever community the Unhumans created for the Hexed, and he sorely disliked the implication of this new information.

  “Yeah…” Sebastian said gently. He gave a forced smiled and rubbed Fletcher’s hair. “But as much as I miss her, I still have you, even if you are wasting a year off in some fancy Unhuman city.”

  “I’ll, uh, take these dishes,” Fletcher muttered, hating himself for all the lies he’d tied himself in. His father deserved a better son.

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  Heavy emotions remained in the air as he took the dishes to the sink, most of it from Fletcher’s side as he tried to keep himself from just spilling the whole truth from his father, all the way from his refusal to spy leading to his dad’s near death experience to the assassination attempt and his forced return to Bren’it’p.

  Sebastian seemed to recognize Fletcher’s reluctance to speak more about anything related to his time in the city, and he moved on to catching Fletcher up on all the latest colony news as well as some small updates about the Ortega family.

  After they’d chatted about everything worth talking about, they spent a quiet evening doing their own things, Fletcher reading and his father working through some sudoku puzzles on his personal tablet.

  The hours flew by with a book in his hand, and before he knew it, his father was saying he was going to bed. Thanks to the time change, Fletcher’s body didn’t feel that it was time for such things, but he was exhausted enough to force himself to bed. It was a relief to fall into the bedding and pass out for the night.

  Fletcher didn’t set any kind of alarm, so he woke up nearly at noon to an empty apartment. His father left a note promising he hadn’t spoiled the surprise, but he had invited the Ortega family over for dinner to make it easy for Fletcher to greet them.

  He didn’t mind having the house to himself for a while, and he forwent his usual morning workout in favor of leftover pizza and reading. By the time his dad came home, he’d gotten so engrossed in the book, he hadn’t even gotten around to changing out of his pajamas.

  “Glad you’re enjoying your time off” his father said with a smirk as he walked in. “But would it be too much to ask for you to help out with dishes or take out the trash?”

  “On it. Sorry,” Fletcher answered sheepishly as he placed a rubber band in his book as a bookmark.

  After he did the chores his father requested, he did actually put some real clothes on, and a knock sounded on the door almost as soon as he exited his room.

  His father looked to him and waited for his nod before opening the door and ushering Maya and Jorge Ortega inside alongside Cami, Finn, Amy, and Javier. Maya was in the middle of giving Sebastian a hug when Amy caught sight of Fletcher and squealed as she dashed towards him with her toddler run.

  “Fletcher!” the family all shouted almost in unison. After Amy, Maya and Cami received hugs, and then he clasped hands with Jorge, Finn, and finally Javier.

  “I can’t believe your back, man,” Javier said with a grin. “Don’t tell me you got sick of the Unhumans already. I had good money on you lasting at least a year out there.”

  Fletcher rolled his eyes with a smile. “No. Just here for a few weeks. I decided to burn all my time off in one go to make the most of this trip back.”

  “This is great timing. I’m going to a party tonight with some old friends from school. You should come. Everyone would love to see you,” his friend said.

  He looked to his father and received a confirming nod that Sebastian wouldn't mind. “Yeah. That sounds nice.”

  After three months of being completely without Humans, it was a little daunting to dive back into everything, but Fletcher wanted to rip the reverse culture-shock bandage off immediately so he could make the most of his time in the colony.

  The families sat down to a nicely prepared meal courtesy of Fletcher’s father, and only an hour later, Fletcher and Javier were off together, leaving the others to enjoy their evening without them. Fletcher borrowed his father’s coat for the night.

  Javier mostly talked about the latest happenings at the school where they used to teach together, updating Fletcher on drama between faculty members and how the football season went. The party was at their old friend Jean’s apartment located not far from Sebastian’s building so it was only a short walk in the cold before they arrived.

  Stepping into the apartment was overwhelming. Christmas decor lay everywhere, from the large tree against the center window to the garlands and lights strung up along the top of every wall. On top of the cluttered decorations, there was a mass of people crammed into the relatively small space.

  Fletcher knew basically everyone except for a few new girlfriends and boyfriends of old friends that were in the mix, and—as Javier predicated—everyone was excited to see him. Greeting them all drained a lot more of his social energy than Fletcher originally thought it would, and while he was ready to go almost immediately, Javier was clearly just getting started.

  “Tell us about Bren’it’p, Fletcher,” Jean said as she handed him a can of beer. “It must be like living on a different planet to be all the way out there.”

  “It is a different planet,” someone else chimed in.

  The crowd around Fletcher swelled as the majority of the party-goers swarmed in close to hear his stories. Javier remained nearby, his own can in hand and his usual smile on his face as he flirted with his old crush who’d apparently recently broken up with her boyfriend.

  “Uh, it’s a city. Quite a bit different than here, like you’ve pointed out, but honestly not as different as I expected. The buildings are all made out of stone, and there’s a lot of pedestrian only areas which make it super easy to get around. Tons of good cafes and markets to visit. Honestly, it makes for better living than Alcett,” he said.

  “Except for the fact it’s full of freaks,” Jean said with a knowing look. “It can be as walkable as it wants, but until every last one of the monsters is out of there, you won’t find me anywhere nearby.”

  “Tell us about the Unhumans,” someone new requested. “It must suck having to be around them all day, every day, especially the violent types.”

  He shook his head. “Not at all. Most of them are quite friendly, and they treat me like they would anyone else.”

  The “violent” Unhuman types didn’t actually have anything to do with their disposition towards violence, but rather if they had some physical trait that could easily be used as a weapon, such as claws or teeth. In reality, Unhumans’ violent tendencies varied person to person, just like Humans.

  “I don’t believe that for a second,” Jean said. “You’re just too much a freak-lover to admit that some of the monsters might not love you back.”

  Others echoed his sentiment, many demanding the real stories from Fletcher.

  “There was one minor incident during my first month there, but at worst it’s the occasional slur and nothing more,” he lied, understanding why Minister Vi’le was so concerned about Fletcher maintaining a good opinion of the Unhumans.

  To that end, Fletcher then proceeded to share some of his good memories from Bren’it’p, ranging from the [Ghoul] Cors at his favorite breakfast spot to connecting with kids in the classrooms when he got the chance.

  “Boo,” Jean said. “That’s boring. We want real stories of all the crazy things Unhumans do. We all know that they’re violent and unpredictable. They must be paying you to spread their propaganda.”

  “Unhumans are just regular people, guys. Sorry to break the hard truth.” He took a swig of beer, grimacing at the taste. It’d been awhile since he drank anything but the sweet wine Beam favored.

  “Typical freak-loving-Fletcher,” someone said.

  To his relief, the crowd around started to dissipate.

  Jean grabbed his shoulder. “It’s good to see you back where you belong, Fletcher. I know it’s only supposed to be for a few weeks, but we’ve missed you here in Alcett. You’re too good for those monsters.”

  “Not monsters, Jean. Unhumans,” he corrected her gently.

  She rolled her eyes. “Anyway, I wanted to mention that your old college friend tracked me down the other day to ask about you.”

  “Oh, really? Who?” Fletcher racked his brain for who he’d been close enough with during his university days that would know to ask Jean of all people about him.

  “Something Monroe. I don’t remember her first name. But she seemed a little miffed that she didn’t know you left to Bren’it’p. She was dramatic enough about it that she even asked about some of your other close friends and who you had told about the job since she didn’t make the list,” Jean continued.

  Fletcher’s mouth went dry. Monroe, no doubt Captain Monroe of the Human military.

  “Are you alright?” She looked at him with worry.

  “Yeah. Just a throw back to college. Thanks for the heads up. I’ll reach out to her while I’m back,” he said quickly to cover for his surprise.

  Jean smiled and walked away, leaving him by himself as tumultuous thoughts danced around his brain.

  Monroe was asking about his close friends which meant the government was tracking down other people he cared about. They might start making threats against more than just his father. Everyone Fletcher truly cared about might be in danger if he didn’t give in to their demands.

  Fletcher glanced around the room, suddenly suspicious of anyone there whom he didn’t personally know already.

  Javier remained busy with his private conversation, flirting up a storm as usual. Jean was talking with a large group. Nobody really looked his way too intently, at least no more than he usually got being a well-known freak-lover and all.

  He casually walked to the snack table and grabbed some of the items he didn’t get access to in Bren’it’p. He actually liked that no one bothered him as he went, but the glances and whispers that followed his steps reminded him just how much Humans sucked when it came to the topic of Unhumans.

  It was a strange feeling to him, to have such a strong sense of loneliness when he was surrounded by his own kind, but the truth was, even after only a day, Fletcher was regretting his decision to come back to Alcett so early. He’d been so excited about going to what he considered home, he’d forgotten just how vicious the other Humans could be when it came to people who didn’t hate Unhumans. Now that he was here, he couldn’t imagine lasting more than a few days here, much less a month.

  Being in Bren’it’p meant dealing with occasional slurs, but being here meant arguments with his father, judgments from Javier and his other friends, and being under close watch from the Human military who was desperate to use him in their schemes. And now they might be targeting others. The longer Fletcher was in Alcett, the more dangerous it would become for those he cared about.

  Despite having left Bren’it’p less than a week ago, he was already counting down the days until he could return.