2103:12:24:16:00:01

  “Kati!” Juniper Brown, a.k.a. Millie’s mom, smiled brightly as she opened the door.

  She and my mom – after putting down the cooler of dessert we took with – moved closer and they did the quick three-pecks-on-the-cheeks thing. Apparently, they were closer than I’d thought, but who knew what mothers got up to without their daughters keeping a watchful eye.

  “Merry Christmas, good to see you again – the both of you!” Mrs. Brown said, shooting me a quick wink. “How was your weekend away?”

  “Happy Holidays June,” Mom said. “And good, for the most part. Reliving memories was as you might expect.”

  “Bittersweet?” Mrs. Brown suggested.

  “Exactly, but thankfully more sweet than bitter. The only hiccup was Sammy here giving me a bit of a scare when she suddenly felt unwell out on the lake.” She smiled at me and carefully – as to not mess up my groomed-for-the-holidays hair – patted me on the head.

  Mrs. Brown turned to me. “Ah, seasickness? My Charles has similar issues.” I neither confirmed nor denied, and Mrs. Brown continued on, unbothered. “And what have you brought with, hm?”

  I held up the festive, conspicuously bottle-shaped bag and said, “An early Christmas present.”

  Mrs. Brown smiled incandescently at that – had she whitened her teeth? “Oh look at that! I knew I was right when I pegged you as a polite one.”

  I opened my mouth to deny that it was my gift – though like our first meeting, I figured she was probably joking – but Mrs. Brown waved it off before I could.

  “No need to repeat the bit; once was enough. Though I do have to repeat this one.” She scraped her throat, and said in a louder voice, “‘Now, if only my daughter could learn a thing or two from you.’”

  A moment of silence later and… nothing happened.

  Mrs. Brown turned her head to look backwards at the staircase. “Hm,” she hm-ed. “Normally saying such things would summon the devil.” She scraped her throat again and shouted, “Millie! Our guests are here!”

  A moment of quiet before a door up above slammed open and closed in quick succession. A second later, footsteps marched down the stairs with all the subtlety of a metal garbage can being thrown down it.

  “Sam!” Millie shouted as she reached the first floor. She ran up to me and before I knew it, she was pulling me by the hand. “C’mon, let’s go to my room!”

  I, however, resisted her pull. “I still have to greet your dad,” I said.

  “Ugh,” Millie complained with a roll of the eyes.

  “And you also have someone to greet, don’t you,” Mrs. Brown stated.

  “Double ugh.” She turned to Mom. “Hiya Mrs. Pearsson,” Millie greeted mock-reluctantly.

  “Heya Miss Brown,” Mom returned, grinning. “And merry Christmas as well.”

  I blinked at the greeting. I’d never noticed the similarities, but considering recent revelations… huh.

  Millie grabbed my arm again. “C’mon, Dad’s further in.”

  I was unceremoniously dragged through the doorway and marched into the living room. Unlike Mom and my relatively austere Christmas decorations at home, Millie’s family had gone all out. There were garlands and wreaths all around. Gold and silver tinsels hung everywhere from the ceiling to the tree, the latter also containing numerous animal-themed glittering ornaments. Nutcrackers, little reindeer and snowmen were found tucked away in the smallest places, and even a Christmas arrangement, along with yet-to-be-lit candles and a whole bunch of fancy-looking porcelain and silverware decorated the dinner table.

  And at the opposite side of the table, manning the kitchen and keeping himself busy, was Mister Brown.

  Hearing our none-too-subtle approach – audible even over the sounds of Christmas music escaping the speakers – Mister Brown turned around. “Ah Sam, good to see you again. I see Millie already caught you?”

  I nodded and said, “Merry Christmas Mister Brown.”

  He smiled. “And a happy Holidays to you, Sam.”

  “Yes, yes, cheers all around. Now let’s go, I wanna catch up!” Without further ado, Millie began dragging me away and towards her room.

  “It’s been like three days,” I retorted. “And it’s not like we didn’t message.”

  “Yeah, well, many things happened in those three days, and some of those things aren’t things we can just like, message about over the phone.”

  Her words gave rise to an odd feeling – not quite rising, not quite sinking. I knew what she was referring to, obviously; she knew beforehand I suspected Mom had been planning on finally telling me something, so that she wanted to talk about it wasn’t strange. That that something was the revelation Mom was Peakstar… well, of course I hadn’t told her anything about it. As she said, things like this you can’t just message someone over the phone about.

  Which meant she likely knew. Which was great because it meant I finally had someone other than Mom I could talk to about it, but also not so great because my anxiety spiked. How much did Millie really know? Would I have to wade through a conversational minefield in just a moment, or would it be the kind of open-hearted discussion I’d hoped for?

  Questions like that raced through my mind as we entered Millie’s room. Unlike downstairs, it looked about the same as it had every other time, lacking any and all trace of Christmas decorations. It was also, for the first time, without either Jolie and/or Saga present. Apparently they had their own separate Christmas tradition, with Saga staying over at Jolie’s house during Christmas Eve rather than with her house parent and… foster siblings? Was that the right term?

  Either way, neither were here. Which would’ve been a shame under any other circumstances, but I couldn’t exactly share stuff about Peakstar with them so it worked out for the better.

  A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

  Millie dropped the both of us onto her couch and, either for cover or just for the sake of it, played some pop music a bit too loud to be normal.

  “So,” Millie turned her attention towards me. “Spill.”

  “You first.”

  “Huh?” she said.

  I rolled my eyes and sighed. “You know, tell me what you heard so I can see if we’re on the same page. Just to be sure because… well, you know.”

  Seeing her blank look, I feared for a second that she, in fact, did not know. My shoulders tensed and the heavy feeling I already had now turned into a sinking one.

  Thankfully, a look of realization broke through quickly enough to put a stop to it. “Ah! Yes, makes sense,” she said, nodding. “Okay then: your mom is Peakstar.”

  The relief I felt at those words; I had expected some, but not this much. I instantly felt lighter at the declaration, almost too light as my mind fuzzed over and a light prickling began to build behind my now quickly-watering eyes. Just to have someone to talk to about this was…

  I grabbed Millie by the shoulder, my body all but slumping over at the sudden onslaught of lightheadedness as tension and stress released all at once.

  “Sam?” Millie asked, arms reaching out to steady me. “You alright?”

  “I-” I swallowed. “I’m just happy that you know.” And happy that Mom told her that I now knew. She didn’t have to do that, and could’ve easily forgotten to do so considering the circumstances and lack of time she had. The vacation, telling me her darkest secret, the drama-filled aftermath of that, and then also the preparations she’d had to do for today?

  She’d been busy. And still, she’d done what I’d hoped she would do.

  “Okay?” Millie said with a confused smile. “That’s great! But… well, I mean, it’s not not a big deal, but is it that big a deal?

  “What do you mean not a big deal?” I bit out.

  Millie tensed and looked wide-eyed at my unexpected bout of viciousness. The expression startled me and I replayed my own words. The anger, the indignation I felt was not something Millie deserved.

  “Sorry,” I said, looking down shamefaced. It was clear she hadn’t known beforehand, which was a good thing. It meant at least she hadn’t hidden this from me.

  “No, no, it’s fine. It’s just- I don’t get it. I mean, your mom’s Peakstar, which is a big deal, but like… why that reaction instead of, I don’t know, excitement or something?” She sounded genuinely bewildered. “I mean, if I found out my mom was a superhero, I’d be surprised too for sure, and maybe even a bit angry or something that she hid it from me, but not… well, that.”

  Ah. So she didn’t know. She didn’t know Peakstar killed other-Sam.

  “Do you know how I got achronally displaced?”

  Millie blinked at the non-sequitur. “I mean, yeah? You got attacked by that villain Chronomaniacal or something, and you and your dad got zapped up and out of time.”

  I did some quick calculations; Millie would’ve been seven or eight when I disappeared, and around ten when the whole controversy surrounding the Treaty-break and who did and didn’t break the bubbles became public. Not exactly an age where you expect someone to care about political scandal no matter how many superheroes it involved, and it would be years still before she became a superhero herself. It was unsurprising she hadn’t learned of it on her own, and I’d never talked much about it with my friends. Maybe because they thought it was a sensitive topic?

  Either way, “Chronomaniak,” I corrected. “And, well, while he was responsible for locking me and my dad in a time bubble…” I idly scratched my cheeks, considering how to put thought to word; telling it all would take too long, and most of it wasn’t really relevant either.

  “Mom was first responder when Chronomaniak did what he did inside a public mall,” I said. “Of course, Mom saw what he’d done to us and assumed the worst. Like, Treaty-break levels worst.”

  Millie nodded seriously in response.

  I continued. “So, Mom went in hard, got a bit reckless and stuff, until either as part of Chronomaniak's plot or by accident… one of her beams hit us – that is, the bubble Dad and I were in.”

  “Ah,” Millie said with another serious nod.

  Still, there was no look of understanding or anything, so I elaborated, “And everyone else got out of their time-lock safe and sound except for Dad and I, who got temporally displaced. We were the only victims.”

  “Oh?” Millie said, eyes wide. “Oh,” she repeated, furrowing her eyebrows in thought. “Oh,” she finished, tone like lead as realization washed over her.

  “Yeah.”

  “Jesus Christ Sam,” Millie said, streaking a hand through her hair. “God, that’s… that’s rough. I can’t even imagine.”

  I nodded.

  “What do you- I mean, how do you even deal with something like that?” Her eyes were growing wet.

  I shrugged, my throat constricting. Some part of me hoped she’d tell me. “I don’t know,” I said, voice strained. “When Mom told me about it, I nearly passed out,” I said, laughing without joy. “Threw up over the side of the boat. And then my vision, senses and stuff went all… weird. We even had to go to the resort’s emergency room because of the headache.”

  Millie blinked. “A headache?” she asked.

  I nodded. “A migraine, apparently,” I said. “And now every time I think back on it, I-”

  Feel anger, depression and some kind of cold apathy all at once, and,

  “-feel like shit, like I’m actively tempting the headache to come back again.” Just with that alone, I felt a dulled echo of it. “And then there’s also all the other stuff, like with Nth-Sight and Soliloquy, and the Jannacht, Motorgang, the Sentinels… I feel-” my mouth moved on its own, spilling words like water. Even as I tried to control the flood, all I got for it was an aching throat. “I feel like everything’s coming down all at once.”

  Millie nodded, unsurprised at the admission. Then again, my less-than-bright moods these past two weeks hadn't exactly been hidden, especially with people who were ‘in the know’ about it all.

  I continued. “I even talked about it to my therapist you know? Told her I was Jester and stuff. But even talking with her doesn’t really help, and it’s not like I can talk to her about any of the new stuff.”

  “It’s barely been like two weeks or something,” Millie said. “Shit was hectic for me, and I was barely involved in any of it. The stuff that you had to deal with would've taken me, like, a year or something to really digest. And that’s without counting being achronally displaced! Add to that what happened yesterday, and it’s not at all strange you feel burned out. Anyone would.”

  “I know, and I get that,” I said. “But I’m a hero. Shouldn’t I be able to push through something like this? Isn’t this what heroes deal with all the time?”

  Millie shrugged. “Maybe in general and like, over a lifetime? A few years at least. Definitely not one after the other like yours did. This stuff wears on you – it’s why heroes generally have so many breaks when things like the Jannacht Wars aren’t happening, and even then they try to rotate and let their heroes get as much rest as possible. And the things you and Amber have had to deal with… I mean, I and the other juniors are now basically benched for a while, and that’s just for participating in that big coordinated strike; not even close to what you two got up to.”

  “Well, it’s not like Amber and I have been doing much. Nor were we really planning on doing anything big for some time at least so we could get a bit of a break, but…”

  Millie nodded. “But now this.”

  I returned a quick nod. “Yeah, now this. Don’t get me wrong, I’m glad she told me – I’d been all but begging for her to say it for over a month. It’s just… timing, you know?”

  “Hmhmm,” Millie hmhmm-ed. “I getcha.”

  There was a moment of solemn silence between us, filled only by the continuing beats of Millie’s pop playlist.

  She fidgeted for a moment, then asked, “Do you, like… hate her now?”

  “No!” I strongly denied, strong enough for Millie to flinch at my outburst. I leaned back with a sigh, hands running across my face as I groaned. “Maybe. I don’t know. I mean, I said that I forgive her – and I do, really! But I still feel…” I scratched my cheek sheepishly, and half-whispered, “Angry. Like really, really angry.”

  “I mean, yeah duh; of course you’re mad at her!” Millie said, getting fired up at my behalf. “She, like, basically killed you!”

  “I know,” I half-said, half-sighed. The problem was, Mom hadn’t killed me at all, because I wasn’t the daughter she lost. That wasn’t something I could share with Millie, and yet… I felt I needed to say something at least.

  Straddling as close to the truth as possible, in words that stirred my Heroic Impulse, I said, “It’s just… that wasn’t me, you know? She didn’t actually do anything to me. Or it doesn’t feel like she did, anyway.” I warily watched her features for any sign, no matter how small, that she knew, or at least suspected.

  “What do you mean?” she asked, clear-faced and without a sign of suspicion.

  I exhaled and some of the tension loosened. “You know I don’t have any memories from before. And Mom’s only been my mom since I met her on my second day of, you know, being alive. So it doesn’t feel like she actually did anything to me. More like everything that happened, happened to some,” I gestured vaguely, “other Samantha, one totally unrelated to who I am.”

  “I… suppose,” Mille said, frowning. “But you just said you’re mad at her for it.”

  “I knoooow,” I groaned, falling back into the couch. “I don’t get it either. I want to figure it out, but it’s not like there’s anyone I could really talk to about it. Like, what am I supposed to do? Tell my therapist that Mom is Peakstar? There’s no way I could do that.”

  “Maybe you could talk to Michael?”

  “Maybe,” I agreed half-heartedly, “but that’s its own can of worms. I’m pretty sure he hates her for what she did, so before I can get him to help me, I would need to fix the relationship between him and Mom. If I don’t, he’ll no doubt try and poison the well like he did before.”

  “He’d really do that?” Millie asked.

  “Not intentionally, I don’t think. But subconsciously?” I shrugged. “Probably. It really is that bad between them at times.”

  Millie exhaled loudly and collapsed into the couch as well. “Man…” she said slowly. “That sucks.”

  I snorted humorlessly. “Tell me about it.”

  Another moment of silence. “I’m sorry. I suck at this,” Millie said. “I wish I could help more, but-”

  I prodded her with my leg. “Hey, you helped,” I said. Seeing the doubt in her eyes, I continued. “Really, you helped a lot. Just having someone to vent to is great, and there’s really no one else I can do that with.”

  “Well,” she began again, this time with a smile. “Good to know I’m basically a wall you can yell at.”

  I nodded. “And if you need a wall to yell it, you know who to call.”

  Her smile turned a little brighter. “Thanks.” She sat up and grabbed her phone. With a whiplash of a subject change, she asked, “Hey, want to watch a Christmas movie?”

  I raised my eyebrows. She sounded strangely excited; wouldn’t have thought her a big fan of Christmas films. “Sure,” I said.

  It was an action movie.

  X

  The rest of our visit was a lot more relaxed. Dinner especially was great. Our parents had made a wide variety of food – mostly roasted meats and veggies, with Mom having brought fish, pastries and pudding – and there’d been plenty of light-hearted conversation, teasing and banter. Mom and I recounted our Crater Lake visit and everyone shared their plans for the rest of the winter break, with Millie and her parents planning on going skiing. At 21:14, we each said our goodbyes and Mom and I made our way to the car to head back home.

  Once Mom made her way out and onto the road home, she asked, “Did you and Millie have fun?”

  I nodded, but kept things vague. “Yeah. We talked and watched a movie called Lyal McHolm’s Timeskipped, which I didn’t expect. It was fun though.”

  “Good,” Mom said, and at a lower volume, “Good.”

  After a second of silence, I said, “Thanks. For telling her, I mean.”

  Mom smiled, but didn’t say anything, only reaching out to ruffle my hair.