All children grow up.

  "Ten minutes, Brom. Maybe they give you a little more, but don't count on it." Jonesy's smile turned tense as their shoulders brushed and he shut the door behind Brom with a final sounding click.

  TJ looked like hell. He was shoeless, pants ripped to shit and stained with various dark substances, one of those thin trauma blankets over his stooped shoulders. Bean sat on his lap, fur streaked with grime, purring away. The orange sausage let out a happy little murrp when he caught sight, or maybe smell, of Brom. Dad was here. He wiggled out of TJ's hold, climbed down his leg, and scooted toward Brom to rub against his ankles.

  The teen let him go, fingers twitching before he put his hands in his lap. He didn't look up, his shaggy hair matted and filthy, the sandy strawberry color hidden by grime. Some of it was blood, the healing might have taken care of the wounds, but not the reminders of them. Evidence of how badly TJ had been hurt was everywhere. But he was here. He was alive.

  Brom wasn't happy when his nephew finally met his eyes. TJ had eyes the color of sage, the blue-grey from the Jones line blended with the bright bottle green his mother had possessed. Usually, they were vibrant, alive with excitement, burning with the light that the teen brought to the world. Now they were flat, like someone had forgotten to shade them properly. A fresh scar carved its way into his lower lip, shiny and pink and too large to not draw the eye. The healing had fixed the damage, but the reminder would always remain.

  He picked up Bean, scratched the little dumbass between the ears, and then gently handed him back to TJ, sitting in a chair next to the other.

  TJ's eyes briefly flicked to Brom's wrist, brows tightening, the words coming out in a soft mumble. "...I'm sorry..."

  "He was old."

  "He tried to-" TJ's voice broke off, throat working. Brom waited patiently, aware the minutes were ticking down but in no particular hurry to rush his nephew.

  "He tried to protect me. I-I didn't know cats would do that. I thought they only protected their person, you know?"

  Brom smiled. "Sabbath always was an odd bird. Great instincts for people. He could clock a dirtbag from fifty feet. I can't tell you the number of times he kept people from fucking with me when I was in some less than safe sleeping situations. Doesn't surprise me at all that the old man went down swinging." He let out a sigh and then wrapped an arm around TJ, pulling the stiff-shouldered young man against him for a moment.

  The second TJ tensed, he let go, pulling his arm back. Brom rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. "Sorry, should have asked."

  "...yeah." The teen didn't make an excuse for Brom, he just quietly put the boundary out to be respected. He sniffed, fingers carding through Bean's fur and stealing another minute of silence. "It's Alex. He's behind it all."

  "I figured. You left me the message." Brom leaned forward, hands between his knees, head cocked slightly toward TJ. "You gave me that much. These guys stopped me from just coming after him." He jerked his head to indicate the room they were in, the implication clear.

  TJ laughed. "I wasn't just going to wait for rescue. He thought I was, you know? That pissed me off. That he thought I was just going to sit around like some stupid princess. That he thought he could manipulate me." He laughed, sobbed, choked, caught his breath, and kept going. "I shouldn't have trusted him. Fuck! Fuck I'm so stupid! He kicked in the goddamn door, Uncle Brom! That should have given me a fucking clue!"

  "Easy, kiddo. He was your friend, you didn't want to just go straight to throwing hands. I get it." He did. Even angry teenage Brom wouldn't have gone straight to the physical option. He'd probably have started with a very strong, very startled 'the fuck dude!' and gone from there.

  TJ just shook his head, eyes closed, drawing in a long and grounding breath. "I've known since the Event Dungeon that something was wrong with Alex. I know him, knew him, better than anyone. Or I thought I did. I didn't know that that old dude in the yacht club was his granddad. That's what started all this. You killed him. And the town is making you a hero."

  Oh. Shit.

  Brom didn't need to ask which one. He could see it now. The way Alex had shook the whole time. But the kid had helped, he'd tried so hard to heal Brom when they'd met inside Yacht Sothoth. How betrayed he must have felt to see Brom flipping his mutilated grandfather the bird while the eldritch ship-shark had chewed him up like a snack. He'd watched the replay enough times to hear it now. "Benjamin Ruddle. Alex Ruddle. Fuck. I didn't know. If your friend had told me..." It probably wouldn't have changed anything. Benjamin had fed him to a dark god, or well, tried to. The god had choked.

  "He didn't even tell me!" TJ laughed, and this one was sharper. Colder. With a brittle, bitter edge. "Fuck him. Maybe if he'd ever taken me to meet the guy, I'd have been able to recognize him." TJ's leg was bouncing now, Bean's purr vibrating as the orange sausage looked a little confused.

  Brom sensed that there was something to unpack there. But it was going to take more than the five minutes they had left for that conversation. "TJ, tell me what happened. Where were you? How did you get out?"

  "Everyone was focused on getting ready for you, they forgot that I'm not helpless. I'm an Epic Archer. I have two passives, one that lets me switch to volley fire and one that makes my shots hit with enough force to punch through just about anything. My first active skill allows me to be incredibly accurate, and my second active skill I got at level five allows me to explode my shots when they hit. Add to that the new bows I got from doing those instances with you..." His expression was less a smile and more a feral bearing of teeth. "I'm incredibly effective at structural damage. I blew doors off hinges and holes in bodies."

  The teen closed his eyes for a moment, as if willing the images away. There would be time for nightmares later.

  "By the time they realized what was happening, I was out of the house, and once I was out of the house I could access fast-travel. Came right here. Turned myself in. I figured if you weren't already here, that someone here would be able to get in contact with you somehow."

  He winced, reaching out a hand and remembering the boundary TJ had set, pulling it back and setting it down. "I wasn't ignoring you yesterday. My quest sent me into an Instance and my messages were blocked. I didn't know anything was wrong till I got home."

  A muscle feathered in TJ's jaw, and he took another calming breath. It wasn't working, his leg kept bouncing, teeth working that new scar on his lip. "Doesn't matter. You want to make it up to me? Go fucking kill him. Go put your fist through that lying motherfucker's face." Tears suddenly overwhelmed TJ. Not the loud kind. They spilled silently from eyes that came alive in fury, his voice coiled with controlled anger. "I can't do it. I want to do it. He-" His voice cracked, and he swallowed it before trying again. "He- I- I refuse to be-" Again it broke, and again he paused, moving away from the words he couldn't get out and onto others. "The ritual, they're moving it up. Not the new moon. Tonight."

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  His eyes fixed fully on Brom's, a maelstrom of fury, anger, pain, and fear. It all surged and was tied behind chains of resolve. "His granddad's yacht, the Erzsébet, he's taken it out toward Meyer's Reef. They're bringing something here, something big."

  "A yacht? Didn't all those get smashed to pieces in the harbor?" Brom distinctly remembered all that debris. All those boats smashed as offerings to Yacht Sothoth.

  TJ just shook his head. "Private dock near their big stupid fancy mansion." He laughed. "I had no idea his family was loaded. I- I never really knew him, Uncle B. He's been lying to me the whole time, and I was stupid enough to buy it."

  Brom did not need more reasons to hate Alex Ruddle, but he was starting to get a lot of them. TJ, well, TJ before this week, had been a sweet kid. He'd been smart as hell and compassionate, willing to observe and form opinions based on what he saw. But maybe he had been a little too trusting. After all, just look at how well he and Brom got along. Their relationship was as strong as if they'd been around each other TJ's whole life. Like the teenager hadn't grown up hearing all the stories about how awful his uncle was. So Alex Ruddle had taken advantage of that. That fact alone would have pissed Brom off. But punishing TJ for something that was ultimately Brom's fault? No, that wasn't going to fly either.

  "It's not stupid to be kind, TJ. You're not dumb. You're just inexperienced. And after tonight I don't think we can say you're that anymore either." Brom stood, hearing voices outside the door. Time was almost up. "Anyway, I'd better get going. Meyer's Reef is way the hell out there, and if I want to beat this cult to the punch, I'm going to need to get a ride. I'm the wrong kind of savior for walking on water."

  TJ snorted, then gave a genuine smile. "...hey Uncle B?"

  "Yeah?" Brom paused, hand reaching for the door.

  "Love ya."

  "Love you too, kiddo."

  His face was grim as he opened the door, spotting the cluster of officers who were talking to Jonesy in the hall. They all fell silent as Brom shuffled out. He stretched out to his full height and loomed for a moment, watching them crane their necks. His voice was that dangerous octave at the very bottom of his baritone, the one an ex-girlfriend had once coined as 'the key of malevolence'. "Not one of you speaks to him without counsel present. And possibly a social advocate. My nephew is holding together with his emotional support cat and the bone-deep spite that seems to be a family superpower. If I find out he's suffered at all because of you, ask the Sergeant what happens."

  Jonesy whipped his hands up. "No thanks. I'm going to avoid the splash zone on this. Speaking of, c'mon Brom, let's go get you coffee or something." Hands went back in pockets, and the Sergeant shuffled off in the opposite direction from the crowd.

  Brom paused for a moment, long enough to level a glare at the remaining people clustered in the hall, then followed after Jonesy. He caught up to him in five strides, looking down at the other man's face. "...we're not going for coffee, are we?"

  "Fuck no, Bones. That was an excuse. You're obviously going to get yourself in trouble, and I feel morally obligated to tag along." The Sergeant gave him a look, as if waiting for Brom to tell him he was wrong. When he got no such confirmation, he nodded but didn't say anything. Not until they were outside, a block away, ostensibly heading for a little cafe nearby that Guards tended to frequent for a quick bite and decent cup of fancy coffee.

  It also meant nobody in the building was listening in to stop them.

  He had to admit, Johannes was a good guard. Even if he was breaking multiple laws and probably a bunch of rules in the Guard handbook right now. "I'm going to fast travel to Aria Beach. You have that unlocked?"

  "Everyone has that unlocked. I'll be right behind you."

  And he was. Brom had barely had time to walk down the sand before he heard Johannes footsteps following his own. The Sergeant had to jog a bit to keep up with Brom's purposeful stride. The cold air of the early morning bit at them, the sun only now making an appearance.

  "So what's the plan, Bones? I'd offer to call some folks, but I don't want to risk anyone else's ass in this."

  "The cult is doing their big ritual now. Not the new moon. They're currently on a yacht headed toward Meyer's Reef. We're going to get there first and fuck shit up for them." It was really that simple. Brom was not a scalpel, he didn't do elegant work. He was a high-yield explosive, he left craters behind.

  Jonesy clicked his tongue. "Well, that's certainly a plan. Just a small flaw in it. You're going to need a boat to get to Meyer's Reef and there aren't a whole lot of those in town right now that are working." The motorized ones were immobile scrap, and the actual sailing vessels had been smashed to bits back during the first round of cult activity.

  "Got it covered." Brom flicked his wrist, catching the whistle as it spun and bringing it to his lips. The high-pitched noise that came from it was sharp but not unpleasant, distinctly nautical in nature, and it rippled outward in the air. For a few moments, there was nothing. He was suddenly worried that maybe Yacht Sothoth was outside of whistle range. After all, he knew nothing about how this worked. He felt more than a little foolish as he stood there, the silence stretching, with fuck all happening.

  Jonesy had tensed up at the whistle, and now his expression turned slightly amused. "Uh, not to doubt you or anything, but are you su- HOLY SHIT!"

  There was no warning beyond a faint tremor that went through the sand under their feet. Then, suddenly, the superstructure burst from the water. Streams of it poured down steel painted a crisp, military grey and trimmed in neat, blinding white. Steel groaned as the massive behemoth came to rest off the beach. The big guns bristled, droplets of liquid spilling off them and glittering like discarded gems in the early dawn light. There was a satisfied thrum in the air, as if the beast of steel were posing proudly.

  Brom gave a low whistle. "I see you took my advice, you look healthy!" No rust. No rot. No stench. Whatever Yacht Sothoth had been eating, it had certainly done the eldritch ship-shark good.

  "Is that a motherfucking battleship?" Jonesy blinked, taking a hesitant step forward. He rubbed his face with one hand, like he was dispelling a hallucination brought on by lack of sleep and caffeine, but no. The ship was still there when he looked again. "When you said you had the whole boat thing covered, I wasn't expecting you to pull the goddamn USS Iowa out of your ass!"

  So that's what the ship-shark from the outer realms had shaped itself into. It looked neat. He could feel how proud Yacht Sothoth was through their bond, clearly it had worked hard on itself. "I'll take your word for it. I'm not into military history." He gestured toward where a smaller boat on a rope had deployed toward them. "C'mon, I'll introduce you once we're aboard!"