Shawn lay in his bed looking up at the ceiling. It was a medium-sized room and across on the other side was the guest bed. That bed was supposed to be for Shawn's other sibling. But that sibling never came. Shawn had heard Mom and Dad talk about having another kid. It was easy to hear their voices travel through the vents from the other room. He heard all sorts conversations: discussions about Shawn's career, how Mom didn't like Aunt Kathleen, how Dad was afraid of people noticing his bald spot in public. Sometimes, Shawn even heard the loud noises they would make when they had to move furniture.

Now the bed on the other side of the room was occupied by Bobby. Shawn took longer than Bobby to go to sleep. And usually Bobby would make a few slight 'puffing' noises from his noise before he began to breath heavily.  Sometimes Bobby would talk in his sleep and shout out things about his Mom and Dad. He would say things like 'No!'  or 'Mommy don't leave me alone!.'  Other times he would yell gibberish in a frantic, nonsensical voice, tossing and turning and tearing out the sheets where they had been tucked snug by the house keeper.

But tonight Bobby didn't fall asleep early. Instead, after both were laying in the room for a while, Shawn heard Bobby say

"Do you ever think about her? The Clown?"

It was a question that took Shawn by surprise. Mom and Dad had tried to speak to them both about what happened that night when they came through the door, but also a few days afterwards. But Shawn and Bobby had never actually talked about what happened. The Book was placed in Shawn's closet, under some old clothing, never spoken of since.

Shawn was buried underneath his covers by heavy blankets - even in the California heat, he had trouble sleeping without the extra weight on him. He rolled over and looked over at Bobby, mostly out of habit since the dim lighting meant he couldn't really see him. "...sometimes." 'Sometimes' was a bit of an understatement. Every few days he'd have a nightmare about being hunted - sometimes fleeing through the cave with Jody, sometimes wandering through that endless desert, sometimes watching that clown kill Mr. Sellick.

The worst dream was one where he was writing in the Book; unlike in his memories, all of the kids realised what he was doing and vainly begged him for mercy. Even when he tried to stop, he couldn't, as he noticed he was attached to tiny glossamer threads that tugged on his hands and fingers like a marionette, forcing him to keep writing. He'd look up to see where they went and instead of a ceiling there was darkness and a toothy grin rimmed by white facepaint, and then he'd hear the voice from before tell him; "You gotta smile, kid, you're in showbiz!" And the puppet strings would hook into his cheeks and pull them into a grin even as he was drawn up and up into the darkness until all he could see was teeth...

Through the dim light, Bobby himself looked like a misshaped lump under the blankets. A car could be heard outside passing by the house and its headlights cast bright patches of light that traveled across the room for and instant before fading away. The sound of the car's motor becoming more distant.

"Have you...." Bobby said, hesitating. "Have you ever...thought about the Book too? Seen it?"

This time it wasn't the question, but the way Bobby asked it. The sense of horror and dread in his voice, but also the curiosity and need. The way something horrifying has a way of scaring someone and pushing them away, but also attracting them closer. It was as if Bobby was trying to sort this feeling out in his own mind.

Shawn knew that in the closet, under those clothes, the Book was there.

It was sitting there exactly where Shawn had placed it the first time that they got up to the room.

"I have." Bobby concluded, tossing that out in the air. Filling the distance between them with a bridge of some kind.

"...yeah. Sometimes I check on it, make sure it's still there." He only did it occasionally, but sometimes, especially on nightmare nights, it was like he had to see it, to make sure it was still there. "It looks like a normal book now."

Bobby took time to digest the information.

"Did you...."

"Ever think about...."

"Writing in it again?"

Shawn shook his head, a rather pointless gesture in the darkness. "...no." Though if nightmares counted, that was the biggest lie Shawn had ever told.

"Oh." Bobby replied, the lie having worked to fend him off. There was a small bit of silence, and then Bobby came back to it.

Bobby sat up in his bed. "I've been dreaming about it OK?" Bobby said in a defensive voice, as if Shawn had been questioning him relentlessly.

"I dream about the Book all the time. I gotta see it." He pleaded. The last sentence came out in a whisper.

"Maybe its like a song or something. Banana-nanna-fo-fanna." He said. "You know that rhyme? Sometimes I get that stuck in my head. And the only way to get it out of my head is to sing it."

"Maybe its the same with the Book." Bobby reasoned.

Bobby was a silhouette in the darkness. But Shawn got the sense that he was looking at him.

Shawn propped himself up in his bed. The Book frightened him, and he was pretty sure if he looked at it again, he'd definitely have that dream again tonight. But Bobby was probably the closest he'd ever been to another person, someone who'd seen the weakness and awfulness in him and still wanted to be his friend. "Okay...let's look together, all right?" He slid out from under his bed covers.

Bobby sprang up with the energy of need. As Shawn got close to him and the two zeroed in on the closet, Shawn could see beads of sweat on Bobby's forehead. There were circular bags underneath Bobby's eyes, the look of someone both tired and discouraged.

"I've been thinking a lot about it." Bobby justified, as he grabbed the closed door knob with a bit to much force, swinging it open.

A smile of pure relief appeared at the corners of his mouth, like a starving man who just came upon a banquet.

The two stared at the pile of clothes, Shawn knowing full well that both the pen and the Book lay underneath those old clothes at the bottom of the closet.

"It will be OK. We just have to open it. Just open it and read a bit." Bobby said, almost to himself.

"Then everything will be alright."

Shawn wanted to help out Bobby, but his desperation was weirding him out a little. He decided to take the lead and be the one to reach into the pile of clothes and pull out the Book.

Shawn fished around in the closet, nearly having to thrust his own body in front of Bobby's. The whole time, it seemed like Bobby was uncharacteristically fidgety. Shawn could hear his heavy breathing behind him and could sense Bobby's pacing movements in his peripheral vision.

Shawn pulled the Book out of the closet. It felt cold and heavy in his grip. There was no face. No tongue. No sarcastic remarks. Just a heavy, cold, leather-bound book. Probably almost 2,000 pages. It seemed to weigh a ton.

"Did you find it?" Bobby asked impatiently.

Under the clothes, Shawn could also see the pen that that he had written with. The black plumage sticking out in between a pair of old socks like some kind of black flag.

Shawn handed Bobby the Book gingerly, as if it might explode at any time. "Be careful with it, okay?"

He reached over and picked up the pen as well. It felt cold and heavy in his hands, and brought back some unpleasant memories, but a black feather in a closet in the middle of the night would be easy to lose, and as frightful as holding the pen was, the idea of not knowing where it was was even scarier.

"Yessss" Bobby said, gripping the book with both hands.

He opened it. Started to flip through the pages. It crinkled a bit, the pages like parchment, thick and crisp. Then he looked up at Shawn.

"I know we never talked about it. But why do you think she wanted you to take into the house with you? You know? The Clown."

There was a pause, Shawn's fingers rubbing against the bone handle of the pen, thumb running against the grooves of the skulls.

"I feel kind of bad how it all happened. I...I thought you were going to write my name in it. I really did. I was so scared. I won't tell anyone about what happened ever." He said, looking Shawn in the eyes now.

"I had to do what I did. I had to bring Will to the house like the voice told me to. Otherwise, everything would go bad in my life. My family. My friends." He paused.

"A lot of good it did me." Bobby said.

He looked down and the Book, and Shawn noticed just the barest of smiles on Bobby's face.

"Maybe I can make it right somehow." Bobby said, face fixed on the pages, starring down.

Shawn as casually as possible put the pen in his pocket, out of Bobby's reach, and when he spoke, it was in the voice of someone trying to talk someone down from the edge of a cliff. "Bobby...what are you going to do?"

OOC: Shawn Rolls Manipulation + Expression

"I...I don't know." Bobby answered. "I think...I'm not even sure what I'm looking for. But I want to make sure that whatever happens next, we are prepared for."

"I mean, think about it. Do you really think the Clown gave you the Book and that would be that. Why am I still here? Where's my family?" Bobby asked.

"I've got to do something to make things right. It doesn't seem like everything worked out like it should have. I did everything that was asked of me, and I'm not back with my family like you are with yours. Why is that?"

"Maybe there's something we're not seeing? Let's try and figure it out together, okay?"

OOC: 07:54, Today: Shawn Cramer rolled 4 successes using 7d10 with the World of Darkness nWoD system with a target of 8, rerolling 10s with rolls of 3,5,3,10(+8),8,8,6.  Manipulation + Expression.

Bobby nodded, doing what Shawn had seen a thousand times before after using that voice: he simply agreed.  Bobby slowly passed the Book over to Shawn. The two exchanged a glance. Bobby's hand came across and turned a crackling page of the huge Book as Shawn held it.

Light came out of the Book as Bobby turned the page. It flickered and caught the underside of his face, of Shawn's own face. Bright colors of white and yellow cast themselves on the ceiling illuminating the room.

"Yes." Bobby said, almost as if he was agreeing with what they were doing. "This is how I'm going to do it. How I'm going to find my family."

OOC: Shawn Rolls Intelligence + Occult with the Following Results

0 Successes: The Boys are interrupted and they stuff the Book back in the closet as a knock is heard at the door

1 Success: Something happens, the Book reveals a clue

2 Successes: Something happens, the Book reveals two clues

3 Successes: Something happens, the Book reaveals two clues and a Power

OOC: 16:07, Today: Shawn Cramer failed (no successes) using 1d10 with the World of Darkness nWoD, Chance Die system with a target of 10, rerolling 10s with rolls of 7.  Intelligence + Occult (Chance Die).

There was a stark knock on the door and Bobby gave a jump.

Shawn...you in there?

A muffled voice called out. It was Dad.

Time to get ready for bed. Brush your teeth and all of that good stuff.

"Quick!" Bobby yelled. "Hide the Book!"

He let go of the page that he was holding, as if it was a hot potato.

Shawn tossed the Book into the pile of clothes and used his arm to sweep more dirty clothes on top of it. "'Kay Dad, just a sec!" He tried to sound tired even though his heart was racing.

Shawn's Dad opened the door.

"Hey gang, it's time to wash up before bed." He paused, the light from the hallway flooding into the room.

"What's going on here?" He asked, voice more questioning than angry. "You guys OK?"

OOC: Shawn may make a Manipulation + Expression + Specialty Roll if he wished to lie to Dad. The roll will not be contested.

"Yeah Dad, me and Bobby were just getting ready!" Shawn gave him an innocent smile.

OOC: I'll decide to take my Play bonus as a +1 to all rolls for this scene.

17:56, Today: Shawn Cramer rolled 2 successes using 10d10 with the World of Darkness nWoD system with a target of 8, rerolling 10s with rolls of 9,2,7,5,7,5,7,8,5,3.  Manipulation + Expression + Striking Looks.

"Alright then." Dad said, returning Shawn's smile in kind. Not even questioning for a moment that Shawn might be feeling, or thinking something else.

He looked at Bobby with a little more concern.

"Alright. I'll leave you two to it. Don't stay up too late. Big day tomorrow."