The moment he got to school the next day, Keefe marched to the Healing Center, hoping they could get started searching his memories.
He wasn't looking forward to it, but knew it needed to be done, and he just wanted it over with.
As he walked in, he saw that Magnate Leto was in there. He heard Leto saying something about making arrangements.
"Arrangements for what?" Keefe asked as he approached them.
Ro was hoping for something gross and oozy.
Keefe stopped at the foot of their cots, hands on his hips as he studied first Fitz, who looked comfortable and confident, then Foster, who looked—and felt—apprehensive and uncertain. "What arrangements is Leto making, and why does the Fitzster look way more excited about it than you do?"
She looked like she wasn't sure she was allowed to tell him, but still launched into an explanation right away.
He loved how she had finally learned to just share things with him before he pestered her about them.
Just the anticipation of him slowly wearing her down was enough to keep her from fighting it.
What he didn't love was what she told him.
How could they have agreed to this?
And how could Fintan have the audacity to ask?
And why was Leto allowing it?
Bad idea. Really bad idea on an epic scale.
Don't do it.
He told them they'd be wasting their time, and Fitz countered by asking if Keefe would have turned down a meeting with his mom.
Because Keefe was who they needed to use as a guiding line, a measurement by which they determined whether or not they were making good decisions?
Foster tried to change the subject by asking how things had gone with his dad yesterday.
Ugh.
Yesterday.
Why was his dad so capable of making him feel so...small?
Everywhere else, he knew, he had a big personality. He was a force to be reckoned with.
But around his dad?
He just...withered.
A defense mechanism, he knew that.
That day, years ago, when his dad tore up one of his journals with all of his drawings—something in him had broken.
Sometimes he still had fight in him, but sometimes it was easier to just acquiesce to whatever his dad told him.
But he was also learning to claw his way back.
So he may have submitted to his dad's demand that they train together, but he was going to make it as miserable for his dad as possible.
So that part, at least, would be fun.
But he couldn't help but remember how Alden had been able to work with Fitz on his Telepathy and how it'd been a good bonding experience for them both.
And Della and Biana did the same.
Sometimes he was reminded how unfair life could be.
But oh well.
It was ooze time.
When Elwin asked who wanted to go first. Keefe volunteered Foster before either of them could say a word.
Let her get hers over with before she knew what it was going to be like.
Keep her anxiety at bay.
Even if she was cute when she was anxious.
And it was...really gross.
It smelled like something had crawled into her bandage and died.
Weeks ago.
And was now decomposing.
And honestly, that's kind of how it looked, too.
He coughed, trying not to gag. "Okay. That might be too gross even for me."
But he was going to stick it out. He didn't want to look like a wimp by waiting in the hall, and he also didn't want to make it any harder on Foster or on Fitz by being so grossed out.
He also knew Ro would stay in the room and enjoy it...and drive them crazy.
So he asked if he could get a bottle of that goopy nastiness to force upon his unsuspecting dad, but it was apparently going to Livvy.
Livvy was one lucky elf, with Elwin sending her gifts like that.
But Keefe had to hand it to Elwin...when all that horrible goop was scraped off, Foster's arm looked almost normal again.
And seeing that—after seeing how bad it looked when Dex carried her into the Healing Center—was worth every moment of grossness during the Ooze Fest.
Which gave him the strength to stay for Fitz's turn.
Seeing his leg the way it belonged—no grotesque break, no bone sticking out—was another huge relief.
Elwin was a miracle worker.
It even sounded like the Fitzphie Slumber Party was coming to an end.
He was mostly grateful--both that they would get to leave the Healing Center and that they would no longer be basically living together--but wasn't sure that Fitz should be going home to parents with whom he was currently really angry until they could find a way to finally silence those echoes.
Keefe loved and appreciated Alden and Della more than they knew. Or actually, maybe they did.
He didn't resent them for allowing Alvar to be moved back to Everglen, the situation was so confusing.
Not that he would admit that to anyone but Foster.
But he also didn't really blame Fitz for his anger, either.
It was an awful situation for all of them, and they were all handling it differently.
But he still wasn't sure Fitz should be going back to Everglen. Wouldn't it cause a setback?
But he couldn't exactly invite Fitz to move to the Shores of Solace either. That was definitely not a happy place.
And he supposed Biana deserved to have her one good big brother back at home to help her deal with everything.
But Keefe made a mental note to ask Biana to keep an extra close watch on Fitz and try to help keep him calm. Not that she'd need reminding--she had probably already thought of it.
But still.
But as Elwin announced that they should be getting to go home, Sir Tiergan walked in.
Shaken out of his brief but worrying reverie, Keefe looked over at Tiergan and said "you just missed the Fitzphie Ooze Fest."
And Tiergan turned green when he saw what was in the basin. "That explains the smell."
As Elwin got everything cleaned up and Fitzphie choked down their medicines--Keefe really didn't want to know what ingredients went into all of them--Foster asked Tiergan why he'd come.
"That hurts, Foster," Keefe teased. "Have you already forgotten about Operation: Privacy Invasion?"
He could tell that she actually had.
Probably because she was fretting about the prospect of having to face Fintan.
He sure wished they wouldn't do it.
He knew Fintan couldn't actually hurt them or anyone else this time, but...he could play mind games.
Mind games that could absolutely trigger their echoes.
But hopefully they'd know their limits and get out of there if they needed to.
Foster's mood turned downward again at the reminder of Keefe's request.
So again, he promised her he could handle it.
She didn't believe him.
And she would rather protect him, his heart and his dignity, than get potentially useful information.
Which was unwise, but...incredible.
Incredible of her.
But she'd already agreed, and was true to her word, so she looked at Tiergan and asked, "okay, how do we do this?"