Leaving Apollo under the care of an immortal damphir is like taking the responsibility of becoming a parent. 

Extended hours heightened; the disturbing sounds of a starving infant are all you can hear.

No matter how many times you have looked after it, the infant will continue to squirm in its crib until you give him enough attention.

Sure, taking care of a child is hard work; but in the end, it was worth it. The baby has a fresh diaper, a warm bed to sleep in, and a family to protect it from harm.

After Adam gave his word to the misfits, Johnny scratched their home address with the pen Adam has treasured inside his left pocket and gave the damphir the paper.

Starless nights and dark circles; the warm katana resting between jean legs as Johnny drove his little sister and friends back to their sacred quarters.

Pearl Jam played on the stereo until Johnny flipped the channel to the Screaming Trees.

"Shadow of the Season" — plucked from the Sweet Oblivion—soothed the boy's pulsing ears as Johnny stops at a local gas station, refills the tank, and resumes heading North.

Scrubbing her tired eyes with her hands, a sleepy Nessa yawned, "Are we there yet?"

"Nope," said Johnny.

"Okay." Nessa was quiet for a moment until she asked her brother again if they were home yet.

"No."

"How about now? Are we—"

"What part of 'no' don't you understand?"

Nessa sticks out her bottom lip, then places her feet on the dashboard. Her rugged bag stretches uncomfortably on her lap like a bored cat.

The passage home became quiet as death.

Brooke and Caleb curled in the back seat, keeping each other company. Pushing his dreadlocks out of his eyes, Brooke kissed Caleb's left cheek.

"Kiss me," she murmurs. Brooke slides her arms around Caleb's warm neck and rubs her nose against his.

Though tired, a weary Caleb plants his lips on hers, then gives her his thick jacket.

"I love you."

"I love you, too."

Lights flew past them; Johnny's eyelids begin to droop until Nessa pinches his arm.

"Thanks."

"You're welcome." Nessa yawned. "So, now that Apollo is leaving California, what are we going to do?"

"We are going to go home, take a shower, and deny everything to the police."

"I know that, but what if Apollo needs us or something?"

Johnny stops at a red light. "Relax, your boyfriend is safe with Adam."

"He is not my boyfriend." 

"Whatever."

Furiously, Nessa slapped him on the arm.

"Shut the hell up." she snarled. Johnny casts her an irritable glare. A part of him wants to yank her by the ponytail, but Johnny was too old to deal with her bullshit. 

As soon as the lights blinked green, Johnny forwarded the car and continued driving until he reached their destination.

Keys yanked from the ignition; wheels settled on the white sand. Lights shut down, making it impossible for the children to see.

Impaired by the darkness, Brooke ran her hands on the door.

Her fingers massage the soft white knob; Brooke opens it, allowing Caleb to stumble right behind her.

In the meantime, Johnny teleports out of the car, carrying his sword and backpack. He was about to enter the beach house until Johnny notices Nessa curling in her car seat.

"Aw, come on!" he grumbled under his breath. "Is this girl fucking serious?"

Brooke staggered towards the depleted swordsman. Her backpack dangled over her shoulders, but unlike her lover, Brooke's hands are free.

Gritting his teeth, Johnny wanted to wake Nessa from her sleep when a patient Brooke places her hand on his left shoulder.

"I'll put your things in your bedroom," she says softly. "Go take care of your sister."

Johnny didn't want to put a lot of pressure on his exhausted comrade.

Nevertheless, despite his protests, Brooke collected his sword and trots her worn feet across the loose sand.

Next, she reached into her pocket for her house keys then unbolted the entrance. And last but not least, Brooke pulls the door towards her and wandered inside—with Caleb lingering behind.

In the meantime, Johnny opens Nessa's door and tells her to get out of the vehicle.

"Come on, Nessa. Get out of there."

"No."

"Nessa—"

"Can't I do it tomorrow?"

"No, you have to get out of the car right now."

As if her coat was a blanket, Vanessa draped it over her body. Cold wind infiltrated the car and pierced her coat like a flurry of deadly knives.

Concerned, Johnny kneels in front of his little sister. He tries poking her skin, but Nessa was too tired to budge.

"Jesus Christ," Johnny sighed. "What do you want me to do?"

Nessa swerves her head to meet her brother's eyes. "I want you to carry me."

Stunned, Johnny crossed his arms. "You are as big as a hippo."

"Carry me," Nessa commands, pouting like a spoiled child.

Grunting under his breath, Johnny unbuckles Nessa's seatbelt, picks her up, and teleports her into her bedroom.

The floorboards creaked; Nessa's dark purple backpack gets tossed on the chair. Planting a kiss on her forehead, Johnny lowers his sister on the mattress and began unlacing her filthy shoes.

"You okay, kiddo?" he asks Nessa.

Uttering a loud yawn, the teenage girl nods, rolls on her mattress, and begins shedding her coat.

"Yeah, I am fine," Nessa mumbled. "Thanks for taking me to my room."

Johnny grins in response.

He plants her dirty shoes and backpack in front of the bed. Small mixtapes, disheveled clothes, and Rolling Stone magazines scraped his sneakers. 

"Hey, Nessa."

"Hm?"

"Take a shower and get some rest, okay?"

Nessa bobs her head, folding her jacket in a neat square.

"Okay," she says, drowsy. " 'Night, Johnny."

"Try not to snore the house down, will ya?"

"Fuck you."

After the children get settled in their room, they took long showers, applied Brooke's healing ointment, slipped into their pajamas, and head off to bed.

But just as Johnny was about to shut his eyes, a loud farting noise almost woke him up.

"What was that?" Nessa called, reaching for her gun.

The eerie silence has difficulty easing Nessa's fears. It ascends into the salty air like birds, then cloaks the house in its chilling blanket, until it became too unbearable for the girl to breathe.

Only then came an awkward chuckle from Caleb and Brooke's bedroom.

"My bad, you guys." Caleb chortles nervously.

Brooke hunkered her nose down. "Where the hell did that noise came from?"

"My stomach."

Nessa, Brooke, and Johnny all groan in unison.

"For fuck's sake!" Johnny yells at Caleb. "Your farting stomach is going to keep me up all night!"

"I said I was sorry—"

"Alright!" Brooke moaned. "Let's all go to bed, okay? We have a big day ahead of us."

She stops massaging her Afro in front of the mirror. Next, Brooke mellows the creases of her oversized, light-gray Jimi Hendrix T-shirt.

Finally, the girl crawled into bed and slept beside a bare-chested Caleb.

"Good night, Brooke," he mumbled.

Brooke kisses Caleb on the lips, turned off her lamp, and went to sleep.

In an instant, the simmering anger vanished.

Once again, the deafening waves quench the echoing loneliness. The four antiheroes found comfort under thick covers and pillows.

Their worries are over; no monsters traveling afoot, the cops have already dropped the charges, and Apollo is being taken care of by Adam.

But with all the freedom they have, what are they going to do with it?

*        *      *       *
On the next morning, while everyone is sleeping, Johnny headed downstairs. He adorned an oversized light gray shirt and ink blue pajama pants.

His pageboy haircut flounced past his ears.

As soon as he entered the kitchen, Johnny picked up the phone from its receiver and contacted his parents.

While the children were spending their lives in California, their parents are somewhere around the world, conducting classified assignments for their spiteful employers.

Ever since Idlewild Boarding School closed down, the children's parents have spent two years searching for stable homes and working tireless jobs to earn guineas.

It was excruciating labor, but despite this, the grownups would do anything to provide sustenance for their four children.

As Johnny's father picks up the phone, the boy informed him of last night's events.

"So, are you saying that is Apollo out of the country?" his father inquired, straining his crisp British accent.

"I don't know," Johnny answers sheepishly.

"Adam gave me his word that Apollo would be getting a train out of San Francisco anytime soon."

"And do you believe him?"

"Yeah, I do." Johnny sighed, gawking at the apricot-colored sky. "So, how is Mom holding up?"

"Mum misses you and Vanessa terribly."

Johnny couldn't help but smile at his father's remark. "Tell Mom we miss her back."

"Dutifully noted." Johnny's father responds. "I have sent you and Vanessa some of my old mixtapes when I was your age."

A warm smile appeared on Johnny's lips as the boy thought about the times he and his father had spent listening to Sonic Youth and the Sex Pistols.

"Cool, so did you bring any money yet?"

"No," Mr. Phoenix's voice declined into a low whisper. "I am so sorry lad." 

Johnny did a casual shrug. "It's okay, Dad. Nessa and Brooke brought home cash from work."

That's when the tone of Mr. Phoenix's voice became skeptical. "Are the girls still working at that diner you told me about?"

"No, they quit," Johnny answered back. "I don't blame them, though. Their boss is a total jackass."

An unusual hush emits from the landline phone. The young man wondered if his studious father is busy with work or something.

Then, unexpectedly, Johnny hears a man's sneering voice in the background. 

"Hey, freaks!" the voice screeched. "Get your asses back to work! I am not paying you to chit chat."

Johnny's stomach begins to drop.

"Come on, I was just talking to my son—" his father began.

The ominous voice severed his father's timid words. "Either get back to work or I'll dock your pay!"

God, the rowdy voice made Johnny want to slit the man's throat. Who the hell does he think he is? 

Though angry, Johnny manages to keep calm and wait for his father to talk to him.

"Dad, are you still there?"

No response.

"Dad!"

"Look out for your sister, Johnny." Mr. Phoenix reminds him. "Say hi to Brooke and Caleb for me, and please stay out of trouble."

After his brief message, Johnny's exhausted father abruptly hangs up the phone, leaving the boy confused.

Whose voice was that in the background? He wondered. And what is Dad doing at his job?

Nessa dashes downstairs sporting a soft red tank top and a pair of black shorts. Natural, dark brown hair cloaked her exposed shoulders.

Wiping her tired eyes, Nessa greets her older brother with a yawn and asks if he can teach her how to surf.

"Huh?" a confused Johnny hangs up the phone and stares at his sister, putting her hands on her hips.

"You promised that you'll teach me how to surf."

Johnny blinked at her. "Nessa, it is way too early to be surfing."

"Please?" she begged. "You promised!"

Her childish brown eyes dazzled Johnny until Nessa saw the phone lying on the countertop.

"Did you talk to someone?" she asks him.

"Yeah, I told Dad what happened last night."

Nessa's jaw dropped as Johnny sits on the countertop, chewing the tip of his thumb.

"You called Dad?" she implored, approaching him. "What did he say? Did you tell him about last night?" 

"Yeah, he also wants me to tell you that Mom misses us and look after you." Johnny's tone sounds delighted, yet his eyes barely glance in Nessa's direction.

Nessa grinned. "That's good, but why does your face look like you had just seen your cat got hit by a bus?"

Johnny opens his mouth to speak, but no words came out.

He wanted to tell Nessa about what he had heard, but Johnny knew that if their father were here he would have begged his son to keep it a secret.

Taking a deep breath, Johnny finally looks at Nessa then smirked, "you know, what? I think you are right. Let's go surfing together."

Nessa's fearful expression subsides; she instantly forgets Johnny's worries as she jumps in the air with delight."

"Yeah!" Nessa squealed. "I'll go brush my teeth and put on my bathing suit!"

After hugging her older sibling, Nessa scurries upstairs to complete her tasks. Meanwhile, the young couple is in their room, changing into their casual outfits.

Brooke puts on her black tube top and fixes her light-colored baggy jeans. She stares at herself in the mirror, twisting her hair into complicated dreadlocks.

"Babe, does this shirt make my arms look fat?" Brooke asks Caleb after he was finished making their bed.

He wears a black Public Enemy shirt and light blue boxers. Glancing up from the bed, Caleb studies her and shakes his head.

"Nope, you look beautiful," he said sweetly.

Her boyfriend finishes smoothing the pillows wraps his arms around her waist and kissed Brooke's neck.

"Alright, don't think this will excuse you from trying tofu eggs." Brooke giggled, holding his hands.

Caleb pouted. "Aw, babe—"

"Trying new things won't kill you." Brooke turns to meet Caleb's disappointing frown when she catches a glimpse of the Phoenix siblings surfing in the ocean through a window.

Slippery bathing suits drenched in cold water; the air smelled ripe of sea salt. Surfboards hung over the siblings' heads as Nessa and Johnny plunge into the murky deep. 

Steady breath strokes under uneven tides.

After swimming twelve yards away from the sand, the siblings waited for the waves to arrive.

A patient Johnny slicked his hair back, while his sister adjusts the straps of her black bathing suit.

Nessa kicked her legs in the water, itching for some action.

Johnny, on the other hand, scratches a small pimple on his slightly hairy chest, then stares at the seagulls soaring above his head.

White Vs leveled on the horizon. Warm light bathed Johnny's tired face in a brilliant glow when a towering, blue wave loomed towards the sun.

"Holy shit." Nessa gasped.

"Follow me!" Johnny yells over the rising tide.

Though a little scared, Nessa copied Johnny's movements as they rode the waves together.

Foam and turquoise water flew above them like airplanes; the surfboards glide across the current as though a knife punctured through a square of butter.

They performed a few awkward tricks in the water until Brooke called them over for breakfast.

"But Brooke!" Johnny whined. "I was going to teach Nessa how to do a bottom turn!"

The seventeen-year-old girl crossed her arms.

"Your meals are getting cold!" Brooke yells aloud. "Come inside, or else you guys are going to fall off on your boards."