Shaun woke up to a sharp swerve in direction, and Young Wicked cursing loudly. 

“Shit! God— dammit!”

They were sitting on the side of the road now. Young Wicked was gripping the steering wheel, shaking. He looked furious. 

“What’s going on? What’s wrong?” 

“Nothing, it…” He sighed. “Nothing. I just… need some air.”

He jerked the door open and got out, taking shaky breaths. 

Shaun walked up beside him. “Hey… What was that? Why’d you pull over?” 

Young Wicked didn’t answer. They both looked out into the early morning. Buildings towered in the distance, but the two were surrounded by trees. Cars zoomed past on the road, the engines being the only noise save various birds. 

The sun tinted the sky into an orange, slowly rising above the town. 

Young Wicked took a deep breath and closed his eyes for a moment. 

“What’s your name?” 

“You literally saved my life and are now risking yours just to take me back home, and you’re just now asking for my name?”

“I’ve been kind of preoccupied.”

“Fine. Shaun Kenji.”

“‘Kay.” Young Wicked looked out to the sky again. “Look, you can’t tell anyone, but I really, really don’t like dogs. And that truck that passed us had, like, three or four. All the same breed. All huge, muscular, the whole shazam. It… spooked me pretty bad. That’s why I had to pull over.”

“Oh. I’m sorry. That must’ve been scary.”

Young Wicked inhaled slowly. “Yeah. Thanks. I… think I’m okay now.”

“You sure?” 

“Yeah. We don’t wanna stretch this trip out longer than we need to.”

With that, Shaun’s savior got back into the car, motioning for Shaun to do the same.

After about half an hour of driving, Shaun finally spoke. 

“Why did you ask me why I was going home?”

“You’re being abused, man. You were out of your house for a reason that night. And the reason you didn’t wanna go to the police was ‘cause you didn’t want them to know about it. If you go home that’s inevitable.”

“I mean, I just…” Shaun’s voice was quiet. “I just need something familiar.”

“Familiar doesn’t mean safe.”

“So why are you out here, then? You can’t be much older than 19.”

“…I’m 16. I’ve been on the run for a year. Shitty dad, AWOL mom, went into foster care, tired of once again being treated like shit, so… yeah. You know the story, Navy.”

“Navy?”

Young Wicked pointed to his cap. “You were in the NJROTC and gave me a stupid nickname, Navy, what’d you expect?”

“That’s fair,” Shaun sighed. “I quit after two years. They were way too close to finding out what was happening at home.”

Young Wicked shrugged. “I won’t tell you that they shoulda found out, ‘cause I’ve seen the system firsthand, but, y’know. Better than nothin’.”

“Having nothin’ means nothin’ to lose.”

“Damn.” Young Wicked looked over at him. “‘S that why you came with me when you didn’t know me?”

“Still don’t.”

Young Wicked sighed. “Jesus. Can’t believe I’m really…. Third day.”

“What?” 

“It’ll take a while to get back, okay? With my crap mileage and, y’know, need for food and sleep, it’ll take a while. Maybe a week, I dunno. Might snow. So. I’ll tell you my name on the third day.”

“…Alright. Any particular reason you won’t tell me now?” 

“I’m not big on trusting people.”

“I can see that. Promise you’ll tell me on the third day?” 

“Promise, Navy.”

They both let the silence wash over them for a moment. 

“Um,” Young Wicked said after a while, “What’s your favorite song?” 

“…Smile by… Nat King Cole.”

“‘Kay.”

The driver did something with his phone, his eyes flicking between the road and his cell, and after a moment Shaun heard the slow jazz through the speakers. 

“Why did you save me, Wicked?” 

“Why did I save you? Are you kidding?” 

“You could’ve called the police. You could have just ignored the Amber Alert, right? So why?”

“…Look, can’t I just be a Good Samaritan? Not everything happens for a reason, right? I wasn’t actively trying to save a kidnapped kid. I just did, and that’s all there is to it.”

“Okay.” Shaun leaned against the window, sighing. It was going to be a long trip.

*

“You’re not hurt, right?” Shaun’s savior looked down at him. 

“No. Just…” Shaun exhaled shakily and closed his eyes. 

“C’mon. My car’s over here. I’m not gonna hurt you, okay? You’re safe.”

“Don’t…” Shaun started following him. “We can’t go to the police. Don’t call the police, please.”

“…Okay. Can I ask why?” 

“My… My dad, he…” Shaun paused. Was he really telling this to a stranger?

But the guy nodded. “I understand. You don’t want them to find out what’s goin’ on at home, huh?”

Shaun nodded tentatively.

“Alright. I’ll take you home, then. Do you know where you live?” 

“What… what state are we in?” 

The dude looked at him weirdly. “Maine, bro? You sure you didn’t hit your head or something?”

“Maine?? Shit, what day is it?” 

“…Thursday. The 23rd.”

“Four days…” Shaun whispered. “I got taken four days ago.” 

“Damn…” his savior ran a hand through his hair. “What state do you live in?” 

“…Florida.”

“Florida,” the man sighed. “Okay. I’ll take you there.”

“Really?” 

“Yeah. C’mon. In the car.”

Shaun warily got in the passenger side. To his relief, the only things in the car were fairly normal— takeout containers, energy drinks, and a few backpacks. 

“Sorry for the mess. I’ve… been driving around a while.”

“No, it’s fine. I’m just… Thank you. So much.” Shaun’s eyes stung with tears. His savior didn’t say anything. 

He just started driving.

*

“Hey. Shaun. Wake up.”

Wicked was shaking his shoulder as he woke up. 

“What’s goin’ on?” 

“Stopped for gas. You want anything? You probably need to eat.”

“Right… sure. I’ll go in with you.”

The patrons of the store didn’t even try to hide their stares at Wicked’s legs— his feet and knees turned in weird directions with every step, and it was a sort of stumbling walk, but he had already said something about his muscles being messed up. He just met the stares with his own, eyebrows raised in a disappointed manner. 

“I gotta take a piss. Go pick out some food or something, ‘kay?”

“Okay.” 

Wicked walked off and Shaun was suddenly seized with terror. 

He was all the way across the country with a stranger. 

And he was going home to the exact hell he was trying to get away from.

And were the people in the store looking at him?

Jesus, he was getting paranoid. 

No, that woman was definitely staring at him. Shaun flinched away and speed-walked down the aisle, away from people.

He closed his eyes tightly. He didn’t know anyone here. He needed familiarity. He needed—

“Navy?”