Content Warning: Near the end of this chapter there is some detailed descriptions of depression. While it has a lot to do with the whole plot of this story, some readers may be sensitive and should take precautions.

Winter break was an unexpected break, for JD, as the fires completely stopped. He spent his days searching for Marc, and for the one police officer he knew could remember him; he spent his nights catching up on homework and projects. New Year’s Eve was a non-holiday for him. Without Marc there was no gaming marathon, no reason to attend any parties, and honestly, JD was beginning to feel there was no point to anything. He still “functioned,” for everyone else, but he felt empty, useless, and broken. It became a chore to do the simplest things.

It was the 2nd of January, and JD was placing flyers with Marc’s picture in various community gathering places, in fire halls, grocery stores, parks, laundromats, and the like all over Central City and its outlying areas, Northside, Eastgate, South Central, and Westbrooke. Each area had a different contact number for him, as he put to use the burner phones he had stockpiled. Each one was marked so even a missed call or anonymous call, he’d at least know where they had picked up his number.

He went home tired and emotional. He sat at the kitchen table eating a handful of microwaved chicken nuggets. Tasha came into the kitchen, ready to steal his lunch. He watched her for a moment. “TT,“ JD started, “I have a proposition for you.”

She looked at him for a moment while chewing on one of the stolen nuggets. She raised a single eyebrow and waited for him to continue.

“I’ll make you some lunch, nuggets, mac and cheese; I’ll even make some pudding, if you can answer one simple yes or no question for me.” JD watched her expectantly.

“Go ahead,” the impish seven year old replied.

“I know better than to ask you what your power is, but I am interested to know one thing. Could your power help me find Marc?”

She chewed the pilfered nugget carefully, mulling over in her head how to answer without giving away more information than she wanted. “I can’t locate him, but if you find someone to question take me with you.”

JD considered his niece for a moment. He couldn’t say if she was tall for her age, he really didn’t pay attention to her classmates, but she was similar to him in both body structure and mental fortitude. Her skin wasn’t as dark and her hair wasn’t as kinky, since her father was white, but she held herself with the same strength as her mother and grandmother. “Deal,” he replied stuffing his last nuggets into his mouth and getting up to cook.

With the mac and cheese and chicken nuggets set in front of Tasha, complete with a glass of chocolate milk, JD started making the instant chocolate pudding. Even after putting out flyers, and talking to Tasha, he started to feel it again. The weighed down feeling, like nothing he did mattered. Thoughts of living the rest of his life without Marc crept into his head. He went over the events of the party, and even the months leading up to it, over and over again in his mind. He finished the pudding and excused himself after setting the whole bowl of it on the table.

He went up to his room, slowly, and with effort, like there were literal chains weighing down his every step. He shrugged off his jeans, leaving them in the middle of his floor before rolling himself up in his blanket on the bed. He thought about how he would usually be disgusted with himself for leaving his jeans in a pile on the floor. He thought about how he would normally be bullying Marc for the same behavior. He thought about Marc.

Since school had started he had wanted to reach out for Marc more, and in a different way than ever before. He recalled moments, that used to be whatever, had become awkward. He ached for the times that Marc was there, in bed with him. He berated himself mentally for all the times he had time to talk to Marc about his feelings. He kept punishing himself for his confession being a drunken kiss. Before long, JD was asleep, but he found no rest from his dark thoughts. His dreams were plagued with memories and regrets. The last image in his mind, in fact the one that woke him up, was of Marc laughing at him surrounded by flames.

JD sat up, and swung his legs over the edge of the bed, resting his elbows on his knees and his head in his hands. Sweat rolled off his head and down his hands. He took a couple of deep breaths, trying to calm his heart. The dream images kept replaying, and a nagging feeling in his head wouldn’t let go. It was telling him that Marc had been the arsonist. That Marc’s disappearance was why they stopped. The arsonist’s tag was an “M” and there was no other reason than it had to be Marc. But JD couldn’t accept it and fought against it, fought against his own thoughts, his own mind.

He stood up, pulling on his cast-off jeans. He stuffed his feet into his sneakers and slinked out of the house and into the cool evening air. Over at Marc’s house, he slid in through the kitchen door and up the stairs to the one place he hoped would silence the racing thoughts. Marc’s room was just as he’d left it. A mess, really. A map of the fires was left up on one wall, push-pins mapping out the “M.” JD stared at it. Even if it is an “M” it doesn’t mean it’s Marc. He started to battle the overwhelming thoughts with logic. Marc was in danger at each of those fires. Marc worked just as hard to save lives. Marc spent nearly every waking moment with JD. There’s no way. It was impossible. Repeating it over and over, JD was finally able to calm down.