Hidden Mysteries

Not Entirely as He Seems

"...and she just splashed the latte in his face and stormed off!" Nickel cried from the passenger seat, as he and Baseball drove home from a set of errands.

"Oh jeez, was the barista okay?" Baseball asked, turning onto their street, fingers tapping on the wheel.

"Yeah, it was iced so the worst that happened was that they got covered in coffee and milk," Nickel replied. "Just makes me glad I don't—" He suddenly trailed off, staring off ahead. "What in the...?"

"What is it?" Baseball glanced over, noticing a familiar car in their driveway. "...Candle and Silver Spoon? I didn't know they were coming."

"Yeah, usually they call in advance or something," Nickel mumbled. "Is something wrong?"

"I don't know," Baseball admitted, parking the car on the street. "Let's go see."

The two of them got out of the car, heading inside to find Silver Spoon pacing across the living room floor with his lips pursed, Candle staring down at a cup of tea with a glazed look in her eyes, blinking slowly.

"Candle? Silver?" Baseball put his keys in his pocket as the two of them looked up at him, Silver straightening his posture and clearing his throat.

"Greetings, Baseball," Silver Spoon greeted, bowing slightly. "Apologies for the intrusion, but this is...urgent."

"Urgent? Is something wrong?" Baseball asked worriedly, wringing his hands together. "Is somebody hurt?"

"Don't worry, nobody is hurt. Suitcase is up in her room," Candle said, setting down the teacup. "But we must speak with you in private." She tapped the floor with her foot just loudly enough for everyone in the room to hear. Baseball quickly understood the gesture and nodded, looking over at Nickel.

"Go ahead, I'll keep an eye on the kiddo for now." Nickel waved his boyfriend off. "Just tell me everything later."

"Thanks, Nickel," Baseball sighed, Nickel lingering behind as the rest of them climbed upstairs and headed into the room that Baseball had made into his office. He locked the door behind him, walking to the rug in the center of the room, rolling it up and setting it to the side so the trapdoor was easily accessible. He pulled a large key out of his pocket, unlocking the door and sliding it open slowly and carefully, making sure Suitcase wouldn't be able to hear.

"C'mon," Baseball whispered, beginning to descend the set of stairs that led below, Silver Spoon and Candle following behind, lights flickering on as they continued downward, finally stopping at a large door. He slowly twisted the knob and opened it, turning on the lights.

The room was large, with bookshelves and filing cabinets on the sides of the room, a large desk covered in random papers and files, with ancient-looking monitors hanging above it at an angle. And at the very front of the room was a glass window, revealing an empty area with burnt marks on the floor.

Baseball tried not to look at that part.

"What did you need to talk to me about?" he asked, leaning against the desk. "Why in here?"

Silver Spoon and Candle shared a glance at each other, both equally nervous. Silver gives his wife a silent nod, glancing over at Baseball. Candle took a deep breath, wringing her hands together.

"It's Merripen," she finally said, her voice threatening to crack. "He's here."

Baseball paled, the color draining from his face. He grasped onto the edge of the desk, lowering himself onto a nearby stool. "What?"

"They've managed to break through the barrier and cross into our world," Silver Spoon clarified. "He doesn't quite have a physical form, but we believe it may be a matter of time before he gains one, if he doesn't find a vessel."

"Shit," Baseball swore, clenching his fists. "When did you find out? Today?"

"Merripen approached me through my dreams several days ago," Candle admitted. "We apologize for not telling you sooner, but..." She trailed off, blinking tears out of her eyes.

"Hey, hey, it's okay. I'm not mad," Baseball reassured her. "But...do you know if..."

"We don't know if the prophecy has actually begun," she lied. "But Silver and I have been keeping an eye on the journals. You know what could happen if they come together, Baseball."

"I do. You don't have to tell me." He sighed. "I wish I didn't have to get Suitcase involved in this."

"We know, but..." Candle breathed deeply, averting her eyes. "Baseball, you know you have to tell her the truth eventually. You can't keep this from her forever, especially now that Merripen has returned."

"I know, I know, but...she's still a kid. Kids her age shouldn't have to be burdened with stuff like this, shouldn't have to learn that..." Baseball trailed off, clenching his fists. "It was different for us. We were OJ and Paintbrush's age when we first met Merripen, and we had to deal with him for years before we were able to stop him. And even then, we lost a friend, and a mother. I don't want Merripen to take my daughter, too."

"Yes, but without Suitcase...what can we do?" Silver asked, approaching the window and staring through it, placing his hand on the glass. "It has to be her, you know that. We all know."

Baseball only hummed in response, moving to open one of the desk drawers, taking out the journal that lay hidden there with a shaky grip, rubbing a finger over the 1 on the cover. Candle placed her hand over his, looking up at him with tears brimming in her eyes.

"I miss her," she said quietly, her voice just barely above a whisper.

"I know you do, Candle," Baseball replied. "I do, too."

~~~

Baseball watched from the crack in the door, staring at Suitcase as she sat on her bed, writing in her journal. He sighed quietly, glancing at the maroon crystal that he was holding tightly in his hand, placing it in his pocket.

Baseball knew Candle was right. He had to tell Suitcase the truth. He couldn't hide all of this from her forever, even if he wanted to. But even then, there were some parts of the truth that...he just couldn't tell her.

But Suitcase at least deserved to know the rest of it.

He took a deep breath, knocking on her bedroom door. "Suitcase? You busy?"

"Nope, come in!"

Baseball twisted the doorknob and stepped into his daughter's room. As always, it was clean and tidy, yet it still showed signs of it being lived in. Suitcase closed her journal, staring up at Baseball, holding the book in her hands close to her chest.

"Hey, sweetie," he greeted her, sitting down on her bed. "How's it going?"

"I'm okay, I guess," Suitcase admitted, putting her journal on her bedside table. "What's going on? Did you need something?"

"Well, not exactly," Baseball sighed, looking up at her. "It's just that...we need to talk."