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Part Twenty-Four

It took seven minutes and forty three seconds for them to stop crying so hard, and to finally get enough of a grip to start speaking.

"My Sammy," Drizzle whispered into the ears of both her son and husband. It sent a chill down Sam's spine to hear his name being called by her voice, and he wondered if he was dreaming. "I knew we'd find you."

"Who would've thought we made it to him at the same time," Jack laughed, but it was far more watery than how Sam remembered.

"Mama...papa..." Sam spoke on a whim, repeating the names over and over because he hadn't said them to his parents since they left.

And then Sam's brain caught up with the numbing, and he had questions.

"How? I saw you both..."

"We made it out, Sammy. Jamie brought us back to his new home, and we survived. We've been trying to get back to you ever since," Jack responded first, only because Drizzle was too busy clinging to her son to answer. Not that he could blame her.

"But how did you know Skip knew me?"

"Is that it's name?"

"His name, Papa. Skip is a he, and he's my friend."

"We'll discuss that later," His father said, turning to glare at the human watching over them with hawk's eyes. "For now, lets just be here with each other."

Drizzle nodded in agreement, wrapping her wired tail- that looked so similar to her son's- around both of her boys. It didn't cross her mind that she might've left one out in the process, still stuck in the cereal box and scared out of his mind.

Leo first saw Sam running, and then he saw who he was running to.

Two more borrowers, the same tiny height, both of them holding hands and wiping tears as they ran. And when he looked a little closer, he noticed a few key details that made up his mind.

The woman, though young in appearance, had such an amount of maturity about her that Leo feared she might've been immortal. Her face resembled Sam's to an almost perfect degree, and the color of her navy-black silky hair rivaled Sam's own. It had a single white strip, though Leo didn't dare point it out lest he be deemed disrespectful. The tail that trailed behind her could've been switched out with his best friend's, and he would be none the wiser. Everything about this woman screamed Sam in bright flashing neons, but he didn't jump to conclusions just yet.

The man, on the other hand, had much more masculine features, and only the wild, pointed hair that went in every direction on his head could've proven his relationship with Sam. The way it slicked back at the top into waves of messy pointed tips and then fell down to his neck proved he hadn't the time to take care of it properly; the same problem Sam had without access to shampoo or bath water. However, where Sam's colors matched that of the woman, the man looked as though he dipped his hair in bleach every night. It had a milky white hue despite his younger age, and the same went for his tail.

'Almost like that of an albino mouse,' Leo pondered in his head, because to say so out loud could be considered offensive.

But the defining moment for Leo to realize who exactly was standing on his dining room table, was the minute the three collided, and he heard the soft whispers of a feminine voice saying 'Sammy,' a name that nobody had ever called him before. The kind of nickname that would only mean these two knew him for far longer than Leo or his friends did, and it was decided in his brain that these were his parents.

But Sam's parents were dead. And Sam wouldn't lie to Leo, would he? He wouldn't have Leo pity him if he knew his parents were alive, right? Because to do so would open a door of new possibilities, in which Sam lied about whatever he needed to gain the attention (and affection) from his 'friends,' inevitably forcing them get along. Maybe Sam needed to manipulate them from the start if he wanted to befriend them. After all, they were two completely different species, and Leo had no idea was Sam was capable of.