Lance wagged his foot anxiously as his left leg rested atop his right knee. He had managed to avoid any unnecessary checkups despite Howard's insistence on the way here, but only because someone else was hurting far more. Once Andy was gone and the rest of the villains cleared out, Deborah had arrived. On seeing her, Jacob had gone rigid, and he went to her silently. Without a word, she took him in her car, and they drove off, prompting Howard and Lance to follow. It was on arrival that Lance learned the horrible truth about Jacob's uncle. Using one of Howard's spare suit jackets and a baseball cap Deborah bought from the hospital gift shop, they snuck the older teen past security and towards the morgue. Lance assumed Deborah had someone that owed her a favor, hence how this whole operation was working, but that was hardly a comfort. All Lance could think about was Jacob and how he must have been feeling.
How long had it been now? Four years? Four years since abuela died. Despite his immense intellect, even at the tender age of four, Lance lacked the means to do much of anything for her, simply because the woman was too busy caring for others and himself. How similar was Laramie to Jacob as she had been to him? In a way, Lance was astonished by Jacob's show of restraint against the villains, and he couldn't help but worry about where Jacob's head was now.
..............................................................
It was the worst nightmare Jacob had ever known while awake.
Part of him knew what he was experiencing. That he knew just what he was looking at and how he was supposed to feel. Even as the skin prickling cold of the hospital morgue settled into his bones, Jacob's expression was that of still silence as he looked to the oblong shape on the slab covered by white linen. His heart pulsed frantically in time with the fluorescent lighting overhead as the mortician aide, a skinny, dark skinned fellow Deborah had called on, began to pull back. Jacob's eye wandered to a nearby sink, watching a fly sip at some dirty water drops near the drain before he looked to a corner of the ceiling where a spider had spun its web. His attention bounced about to several other anonymous little details that made up the room from the rows of draws on the back wall to the various tools settled on a tray to even Howard and Deborah who were standing behind him. They were giving the boy all the space he needed, Deborah even offering an encouraging nod. This gave Jacob the courage to finally turn back, and there he was. There lay Uncle Laramie, still and quiet for the first time in Jacob's life. Though largely grayed, there were numerous purple splotches on his exposed skin and face, and it seemed that his left eye had once been swollen. His nose was broken, almost flat, and his fingernails had been broken off. He was an unholy mess, and the sight simply defied words.
So why didn't he feel anything?
Jacob could only stand there, quietly staring down at the man that had been his father, mother, doctor, and teacher, who had been brutalized, broken, and destroyed beyond all measure. Jacob's hands flexed in and out of fists if only so that some part of him was moving, acting, or responding. It was like his very soul was screaming for him to do something, but nothing came in its stead. All he did was stare in silence, his hands flexing in and out at a stead rhythm.
Out of the periphery of his eye, he could see the aide stepping forward. There was a slight twitch in his movements, no doubt panicked about dealing with a wanted fugitive. Laramie and Jacob's faces both were on wanted posters printed on telephone poles around the city, and of course there was Judas Scarlett's little bounty. The aide was likely stuck in a place between police obstruction and the biggest payday of his life. Still, to his credit, he adopted a professional air as he stepped forward.
"This was found on him." he said, holding out his hand. "You're his family, so I guess this is yours."
Jacob turned and accepted the thing, and he found it was Laramie's wallet: two strips of leather bound together at the center by an relentlessly replaced strip of duct tape with a driver's license six years out of date stapled in because the plastic carrier had long since fallen out. Not a dime was found inside, but punch cards for sandwich shops and pizza parlors were bountiful.
I left my wallet back at the apartment and need to go back and get it. His uncle had said. It'll just be a quick hopscotch back to the old wreck, and I'll be back before they serve your eggs.
"He wouldn't have even been able to buy breakfast," Jacob mused wistfully.
He started to laugh, only for his legs to suddenly give out on him as he crashed to the floor. Deborah and Howard were quick to his side, but neither touched him as the emotions returned and Jacob screamed. He wailed in utter agony into the linoleum flooring as every little thought and pain burst to the surface. He screamed and he cried out his uncle's name, begging him to get up, to wake him from this horrible nightmare. But no amount of crying could rouse the man or turn back time. Uncle Laramie, everything he was and ever would be, was gone.
After a while, the aide excused himself, and in time Howard and Lance likewise started to step out, but not before Deborah bent down and whispered in Jacob's ear.
"Take all the time you need. We'll be right outside the door."
Then, they were gone, and Jacob was alone, and yet he was not. The Sterling Star began to shine, and the three shapes of Merrick, and Nina materialized. Nina bent down next to Jacob, opening her mouth to offer comfort, but she could feel his heart. There were no words for someone that had lost something so precious. It was a pain she understood all too well, and she could only look away. Merrick was looking unnaturally somber himself as he floated over to Laramie's side, his golden eyes sparkling sadly with shimmering tears.
"A good egg, Sir Laramie was." he finally said. "I often wanted to expose myself to him so we could talk. He seemed like a man of the mind, one I feel I could have learned much from."
He curled his fists, and he looked away shamefully.
"I should have already been looking. Curse me! Curse me to the grave, I should have been looking! Had I started the very day he vanished, maybe I would have found him. Maybe I could have..."
Nina's gentle hand rested upon his shoulder, prompting her to look his way.
"You are not at fault, Merrick." she said softly. "If anyone is, then it should be I. I insisted that we stayed out of Jacob's life. That we hide ourselves and let him develop naturally. I was a fool and a coward. Had we been involved sooner, then surely..."
"Enough."
The duo paused as Gloria appeared for the first time since their introduction. She hovered over Jacob, her face expressionless as the boy continued to cry. On a dare, Nina sensed her over, looking for the emotions she hid behind her eyes and wondering what their queen was thinking. All she found was a wall.
"Arise, young prince." Gloria finally said softly. "Your uncle's final words await."
Jacob sniffled as he tried to raise his head. His eyes were puffy and red, his nose running, and he was trying to sneer as his face twitched.
"What words? He's dead!"
Gloria nodded gently.
"Aye, it is true. But you forget, he held the Sterling Star your entire life. It was never outside of his reach until he left it in your hands."
She turned to Laramie, and she slowly approached him.
"Light surrounded his being. A result of holding the keystone of our home realm so close to his person. I, as queen, command this Light with my aspect of Power."
She extended a hand, and she lightly rested it over Laramie's face.
"O great and noble steward. Yours was the greatest courage. When we were unable, unwilling, to do our duty, you acted in our stead. We now carry your charge, but we ask for one final act as the torch is passed."
Jacob watched, and he marveled as Laramie's body began to glow. His skin prickled at the familiar presence of the Light as it emanated from the Sterling Star. It made his hair stand on end, shades of silver showing at the tips as his eyes flickered with gold. Gloria stepped back, and the Light followed her hand, pulling upwards like a sheet that flowed like a shower of sparkles. Once Gloria had backed away enough, she let the sparkles fall and pool on the floor before they began to rise up and take shape. In a matter of moments, a perfect replica of Laramie's form, whole and unscathed, stood before Jacob. It was like looking at a living constellation, countless tiny stars making up his frame and lines of Light holding it all together. Tentatively, Jacob got to his feet, and he studied the effigy carefully. Then, it tilted its head down on him, and he smiled.
"Hello, nephew."
Jacob nearly jumped out of his skin, his heart now in his throat and his bladder loose. He looked at the effigy again, now much more cautious.
"U-uncle Laramie?" he ventured.
The effigy offered him a woeful smile.
"Yes, and no, my boy." the effigy said. "I am not Laramie, for he is indeed dead and gone. I am but the Light what cleaved to his heart and mind, where I remained until the queen released me. When my time is done here, I shall return to the nothingness from whence I came."
Jacob's heart felt like it was now in a vice, and he shook his head violently.
"No, please!" he begged. "You can't leave me! Not now! I have so many questions! Nothing about anything makes sense anymore! Why did you wait to give me the Sterling Star? Why did you never tell me about any of this? You must have known, so why didn't you..."
Strong arms suddenly wrapped around him warmly as the effigy pulled Jacob close to its chest. Once more, the tears came, and he held the effigy-his uncle-tightly and didn't dare to let go.
"I know." Laramie said softly. "What I did was wrong, and I had known it for some time. But I was afraid. I worried what it would do to the relationship we had, and I feared the wedge it would form."
He carefully parted from Jacob, looking him in the eye.
"It was wrong of me, and yet I have no regrets. Every moment we've had together has been one of love and laughter. I never really even thought I wanted children until you came into my life."
He frowned.
"I'm sure you've figured out by now that I am not actually your uncle. Maybe you've known for a while. I couldn't be sure."
His smile returned.
"But, Jacob, I want you to know that it never mattered to me. While not of my blood, you were certainly of my soul, and you were always in my heart. Every moment we shared, every little victory and setback, they were highlights of an old man's long and wasted life. I was given the rarest of honors to watch a small boy grow up into a young man who was honest, kind, and smart. I was gifted the opportunity to impart my wisdom, however worthless it was, upon you and to be a part of your growth. Truly it was the greatest of blessings a man can be afforded. Though I will be gone, I haven't the faintest dread in my heart for your sake. I know you will be alright, because I have seen the light that lies within you. The untapped potential that is going to transform this world for the better. Though I cannot stand with you when that glorious day arises, know that I will be with you in spirit. I shall always watch over you, and know that I will be the proudest of all."
Jacob pressed his forehead against the effigy's chest. It was starting to dim now, the sparkles around its legs beginning to dissipate and dissolve into nothing. Sensing its time was near, the effigy of Jacob's uncle gave him one last tight, warm hug.
"I love you, Jacob." he said, his voice barely a whisper.
"I love you too." Jacob croaked, squeezing his eyes tightly.
Slowly, the strength of his uncle's arms waned, and then they faded altogether. Jacob felt his face move forward, and he opened his eyes in time to see his Uncle's smiling face for one last time. Then, it was gone in a swirl of golden sparkles. They pooled into the floor for a second time, then they vanished entirely like they had never been. The little morgue became quiet once more save for the buzz of the incandescent lights. Jacob's body vibrated with anguish, but at the same time there was an odd euphoria. It was a feeling he didn't fully understand. Was he happy that his uncle was dead now? Or was it that he now had confirmation about their connection? No, it wasn't quite like that. It was something about that farewell. It left a hole in him, to be sure, but that hole didn't hurt like it had before. It was more like it was waiting for something now.
"Jacob?"
The boy spun at the sudden voice. There was Lance standing at the door, Howard holding it open for him as Deborah stood sentinel. Jacob stared at him for a long moment, cutting his gaze back to his uncle still on the slab.
"Lance, you shouldn't be in here." he said, though his voice wheezed hoarsely. "It's not a place for..."
Lance was suddenly upon him, wrapping his arms around him in as big of a hug as he could manage around Jacob's broader frame. It caught the older teen off guard for a moment, but once more he found himself breaking down and holding the boy like a lifeline. It only made sense. How long ago was it Lance in a room like this, seeing someone so precious to him so cold and lifeless? Lance was only a little kid, so that pain had to be worse. If anyone understood how Jacob felt, it would be him, and Jacob was thankful for Lance. This little boy that had saved his life more than once now, and who now held him in his darkest moment.
"It's going to be ok." Lance whispered, sounding much older than his age. "You're going to be ok. You're not alone."
As he continued to hold Lance, Jacob opened his eyes to see Howard and Deborah stepping in. They kept their distance, but they were close nonetheless. They were there for him, these two total strangers that had taken to his side for no cause but their own. Through his periphery, he could see the glow of the lumino sapiens, the three glowing sentinels that had declared themselves his overseers. Some part of him was still angry at them, blaming them for Laramie's death and the secrets they still kept. But, in this warm embrace amongst those that wished him well, Jacob felt the grudge bury itself into a deep recess of his heart. For now, in this moment, he was content to bask in their glow. In this warmth.
Uncle Laramie was gone, sending himself off with a declaration of love. But Jacob was not alone. He would never be alone.