Fuzzy Blue Lights

The entire way through the airport, Candice clung to my side. Her legs were shaking so badly, I basically had to carry her there. Both Tom and Andreas were shooting worried glances every now and then, but she didn't see a single one with her head buried as much as she could into my chest. Her nails were digging into my side and my left arm- I pretended not to notice, but I had a feeling I would have little crescent-shaped cuts wherever she moved her hands to.

Cameras were flashing everywhere. People noticed the terrified little ball curled up to me as close as humanly possible. People were going to make stories, no doubt. There was no question who it was, even without seeing her face- the poof she called her hair was unmistakable to all those that had seen her before, even if she'd tried her hardest to keep it tight up in a bun this particular morning.

I didn't care. I couldn't have. The way she was at the moment was making me worried and frightened. What if this was a bad idea? Nothing that seemed this traumatizing to a person could possibly ever be a good idea.

On the plane was the same, only I didn't have to hold her up so much any more. She curled up into a tight ball in her seat next to me. She wrapped her arms around my shoulders and shoved her face into the crook of my neck as best she could without basically sharing a seat with me. When I looked down, I could see tear stains on my shirt where her face had previously been placed- I hadn't even felt them before, but I could now, with her face on skin rather than shirt.

I don't think I'd ever felt so guilty in my life before. It took all that I could to not stand up and usher her off of the plane at that very moment, so I settled on wrapping my arms around her and rubbing the small of her back in an attempt to reassure her. I felt so terrible for making her go through with this, and now I couldn't do anything to make it better short of canceling the whole thing. She'd have to go to America again eventually, she knew that- we would end up going on tour there or a special even or something along those lines one of these days. I think she was resigned to that, and would have been happy to go back to her homeland, just not her home.

The entire flight, I couldn't sleep- I don't think she did either, but only because I couldn't hear the telltale signs of Russian sleep-talk coming from her. Andreas and Tom were still harking over her, basically, wondering why she could possibly be acting this way when she was so close to seeing a home she hadn't seen in quite some time. Tom would give me dirty looks every now and then- he probably felt that this was my fault because I thought it was my fault.

And, really, it was my fault. All my fault. The only reason why she was going home was because I was making her go.

In the end, I ignored them and their looks. I knew we would have to go through something similar of what we had when we first got on this plane- we'd have to switch planes at least once for the Transatlantic flight. I set my head on hers and let the time slip by, hoping that things would turn out okay after this.

In the last hour of our flight, she looked up at me. Her eyes were a bit puffy, but she'd stopped crying long ago. Her eyes glowed light bright emeralds as she stared at me. I think the thought was crossing her mind finally that I was the reason she was on this plane. I had been expecting her to recoil and latch herself onto Andreas, who had been sitting on her other side the entire time. But she didn't. She kept her arms around my neck, her face almost uncomfortably close to mine.

"How are you?"

The simple question made her smile weakly. Her smile slowly and steadily got wider and stronger. Her arms slipped away and she unfurled herself in order to sit in her seat normally, much to my disliking. One hand rested in her lap while the other subconsciously found mine- it seemed that she still needed just a bit of comfort, even though she appeared to be doing much better.

"I think I'm good. Still scared, though." And by the look of her eyes, I could tell. They were brighter than ever before. "I have a feeling that I'll regress to my little ball when we finally arrive, but I'm feeling better now."

I didn't want to point out that we would likely be landing somewhere within the hour. She would find out soon enough. For the time being, it was nice seeing her not so terrified, and to know for sure that she wasn't crying anymore. She was still shaking, that hadn't changed, but she did appear to be doing much better. Andreas shifted to face her, and Tom did his best to look around me at her.

"Hey, are you alright? You've been sort of freaked out since we grabbed you from Maja's house," Andreas started. I gave him a glare, and passed it on to Tom. They both backed away a little, but I could see Candice shrink back into her seat and her eyes shoot about.

"Yeah. I'm just really nervous to be going home after such a long time..."

I didn't let them say anything else. From where I could see Georg in the row in front of us, he seemed to be unfazed by Candice and how she was at the moment. I'm pretty sure that Candice was convinced that Georg hated her- which he didn't. He just has weird ways of getting used to someone, and I'm pretty sure he still thinks she's untrustworthy. Never get too attached to your crew, he often reminded me. Only trust them when they've been on the team long enough and proven their worth, or else you may have to fire a friend.

Which, he did have a point, but I just couldn't see it that way. Not with Candice, at least. In some ways, I wished we'd met in some other way, that I wasn't internationally famous, and that we could just live happily in Germany. But then I would have to remind myself that, had I not given her a job, she wouldn't be living in Germany anymore- she had gotten fired, which means that her visa would have been cut, which would ultimately mean that she would have to go back to America. Only, without the help that I'm providing her now.

...If you could call it help.

Just as she had said, when time came for us to buckle ourselves in again and prepare for landing, Candice returned to her ball, but didn't curl up so tightly. And she didn't put her arms around me again. She kept my hand in hers, but that was all, much to my dismay. She seemed to be practicing her breathing so she wouldn't panic or go back entirely to how she was before.

She was failing. Miserably.

"Shh, shh. It'll be okay, Candy. Watch, we're going to get off this plane, and everything will be just fine."

Candice looked up at me with a smile- a smile! She nodded and gripped my hand harder. I could have been glowing for how happy I suddenly felt for that moment. I had made her smile, in her worst moment. I did it- not Tom, not Andreas, not anyone else. I had made her smile.

The happiness faded away once we had landed. We were making our way out- Candice was trying her hardest not to bury her face into me like she had before. Not that I would have minded. I would have done anything to make sure she didn't have to suffer.

We walked, hand in hand. Through the terminal. Someone had decided to go off and grab our luggage from the Baggage Claim- figuring that Candice wouldn't be up to it and I would stay with Candice. As we walked with a whole crowd of people, we spotted them. Candice stopped dead in her tracks- she must recognize these people. I wondered for a second if she would break out into a run- in which direction I wasn't sure of at this point, likely away if she did.

But she didn't. And neither did they.

We stood and waited as the crowd flowed on by. Sure enough, it was only us standing there, and them standing where they were. I could vaguely feel Andreas and Tom hovering behind us and Georg standing a bit away- I could also assume that they already had the stuff, hopefully. I had no idea how long we'd been standing here.

I recognized the male with dark, dark black hair and the female with the multicolored hair that looked like the pattern on a calico cat- Caspian and Cassandra. I'd seen them once before, just outside a hotel in Germany. They had paid me no mind then, and they didn't seem to now. They were two thirds of what Candice was- triplets. I couldn't fathom what sort of bond they might have, seeing as Tom and I were two halves to a whole. I couldn't imagine what it would be like if there was another one of us.

The other three men, I didn't recognize at all. A tall, pale, lanky man with dark brown eyes and light brown hair about shoulder length and pulled into a braid. Linking hands with him was a tanned, tall, Italian-looking man with short cropped dark hair and olive-colored eyes. The last man was tall- very, very tall, might I add- looked as if he had been sunburned quite recently, had almost bright blond hair that was, of course, kept short and sort of in his eyes, making it hard to see them at all. In his arms was a small child- probably four or five- with curly brown hair and bright blue eyes.

The child said something in rushed Russian. The man holding him sighed and set him on his feet. The entire group stared down at the child for a moment as he slowly walked forward and stopped somewhere between us and them.

I took a moment to stare at Candice. She seemed to be somewhere between stunned, about to cry, and terrified all at the same time. She looked at me for only a moment before almost tearing her hand from mine and running away. I didn't follow. The child started running, too, right on towards her in the hobbling way that a child does. She scooped him up, crying freely now, and tossed him into the air once before pulling him into a tight embrace. Without missing a beat, Cassandra and Caspian ran forward to wrap their missing link in a tight hug as well. Followed by the pale brunette, who let go of the hand he was holding in order to join in on the hug-fest. The other two men lingered behind.

It was an awkward moment, between the four of us- me, Tom, Andreas, and Georg, I mean. We were witnessing a very, very sensitive moment for a friend and her family that we had never met before. I know there should have been some sort of touching feeling there, but honestly, there wasn't. I didn't know these people- except for Candice, of course- and I honestly couldn't imagine what they had gone through. So, we waited.

Eventually, everyone let go of Candice. She still had the boy in her arms. The other two of the group walked over to her and sort of lurked at the edge- Candice didn't seem to pay them much attention. She turned to us, as if she just remembered we were there. With a small smile, she waved us over.

"C'mon! I want you guys to meet everybody."

And so we did.

When the brunette got a good look at us, he looked as if he wanted to faint. Cassandra did, too, but not quite as much. She hooked one arm around her sister and smiled at us. Caspian glared at me in suspicion. He apparently had noticed the fact that I had been holding Candice's hand earlier, I suppose.

"Guys, this is Andreas- we call him Andi, most of the time. And that's Georg- he's a little weird, but it's something you have to get used to. That's Tom- and, yes, he is as much of man-slut as you think." They all smiled- Tom didn't even seem as offended as I thought he would be by that little slight. And then Candice's eyes landed on me. If I thought her eyes shined before, then I didn't know how to describe them now. "And this... This is my Bill."

I smiled and grabbed the hand she held out to me. I don't think she had meant to introduce me that way, but I didn't mind. There was hardly anything she could do that would make me upset at her. Caspian's glare, however, doubled.

"Hi! I'm Cassandra, and that love-able oaf there is Caspian- you guys can call us Cassie and Caspie, if you like. We're Candy's triplets," Cassandra introduced with a dramatic bow that nearly sent Candice toppling over- she'd forgotten to let go of her sister's neck. It distracted Caspian, for a moment, to make sure that Candice didn't fall with the child still in her hands.

"Heeeey, I'm Tyleer, but everyone here can just call me Ty. I'm a big fan of yours, by the way. Where's Gustav?" A shiver went down my spine when Tyler began to talk. Oh, I remembered him. The night I had met Candice, I got to listen on a little phone conversation with him.

"Gustav had a girl he wanted to spend time with, so he stayed home," Tom informed with much implication in his voice. Andreas rolled his eyes and snorted. Georg punched his arm.

"Oh, well, I guess that's fine, too." Tyler sure was quick to get off that subject- he seemed disinterested in Gustav only seconds after he had asked about him. Tyler took this moment to point at the Italian man he had, clearly, dragged along with him. "This over here is Carmen. And, Candice, you will be spending some time to get to know him. I want to know what you think."

He and Candice shared a knowing smile. I didn't want to know.

The last man in the group stepped up- the blonde one that hadn't said a word at all, and had been keeping as far back from us as he could. The child in Candice's arms leaned over and latched onto him as he came close; he didn't even seem to think as he pulled the child over hoisted the boy onto his shoulders.

"I'm Nikita." Short and simple. His voice was almost heavily accented- Russian, most definitely. He took a moment before he decided what he wanted to say next. "And this is my son--"

"Tobias!" Both the little boy and Candice interrupted at the same time. Nikita gave a broad, genuine smile as he lifted Tobias off his shoulders and set him on the ground- something about the outburst made Nikita look almost proud of his son. The smile vanished when he looked up at Candice hovering over his shoulder.

The entire group got quiet. The air got thick with tension- some sort of emotion flashed in Candice's eyes. Blind anger, just for a moment, appeared on her face when she looked at her brother. Just as quick as I saw it, it vanished. Nikita nodded to her, once.

"Welcome home."

He brought her into a hug; something that, by the look of her facial expression, wasn't something she ever expected him to do. When he pulled back, I could have sworn there was a glimmer of a tear forming in his eye, but I didn't say anything. It was quiet within our large group of mismatched people.

"It feels good to be home."