Earthbound is the property of Nintendo. No money is being made off this fanfic, and even if it were, I wouldn't tell YOU. Ha ha... I shouldn't have said that.

Next decision to make: Fourside, or Winters?

We debated this over breakfast the next morning. On the one hand, Fourside's Sanctuary was relatively easy to reach -- all it really required was a quick jaunt through the sewers to reach it, which while unpleasant was nothing compared to the twenty mile hike we'd need to walk to reach the Sanctuary in Winters. On the other hand, Fourside's Sanctuary was technically fifth in the order, and there was a good chance that hearing the songs out of order might jeopardize my ability to see the visions. It wasn't definite, but I still suspected that order was important. Even if reaching the sites weren't vital to the actual viewing of the visions, important details might be missed. (And why didn't I remember any of this stuff anyway? But I digress.)

So, Winters it was. Pretty much everywhere we needed to go was a hop, skip and a jump away anyway. Well, a hop, skip and a teleport anyway.

The world settled down, and we landed in a bank of snow. Picky stood, hunched over and promptly threw up. I didn't blame him for it; after all, it was his first try.

I brushed myself off and looked around. The tall walls of Snow Wood Boarding School were in front of me, guarding the main building itself. While this wasn't surprising, what WAS surprising was who else was standing in front of the school.

"Jeff! Yo, Jeff!"

He straightened a bit in surprise and turned. "Oh! Ness! I should've guessed that's what that thump was." He took his glasses off and polished them with a hankerchief from his coat pocket. His outfit was much different from the one he sported during our trip; instead of the starchy, unappealing uniform suit, he was wearing a thick parka, snow pants and boots. The only thing which really lent itself to his previous hyperintelligent image was the bowl-cut hair and the thick glasses he was currently putting back on.

Picky wasn't looking at Jeff directly. I suspected, however, that this was more the result of his just-passed bout of nausea that shyness.

"So what are you doing here?" I asked, fighting back an impending bout of teeth chattering and cursing myself for not bringing a thicker coat.

"I could ask the same thing, Ness. Especially considering that, once again, you're not dressed for the weather," he replied, raising an eyebrow.

I shivered. "Asked ya first."

The uber-genius chuckled. "I figured you'd respond like that. If you must know, I'm just paying a quick visit. I haven't seen my old Mentor or Tony for awhile, so I figured it couldn't hurt, especially since I might be re-enrolling next fall," he explained in his crisp Winters accent.

"Can't stand your dad any longer, eh?" I shook the snow off my feet.

He shrugged. "It was great to get close to him again, but Dad's never been the big home schooling type. He figures it'd be a good idea for me to get a more well-rounded education." He wrinkled his nose. "Too bad it means more English with Mr. Thornton, but ah well."

"Hey, I hear ya, buddy," I said.

Picky sneezed at this point, shifting Jeff's attention. "Who's this?" he asked.

"Oh! Um, Jeff, this is Picky. Picky, Jeff," I introduced. Picky held out his hand, which Jeff shook. Then Jeff blinked and looked contemplative.

"He looks sort of familiar, Ness. Have we met before?"

Picky shook his head. "Uh uh. I saw a few photos of you in Ness's photo album, but that's it," he said.

I sighed. "He's Pokey's brother, Jeff."

Jeff looked serious. "You're looking for him aren't you?"

"Uh huh! Why, you know him?" Picky suddenly looked at Jeff suspiciously.

"Uh, vaguely," Jeff replied, a little nervous.

Before Picky could grill him anymore, however, I intervened. "Hey Picky, mind if I talk to Jeff a sec here? It's just buddy to buddy stuff. Nothing big."

Picky frowned. "Can't be that big of a secret," he replied stubbornly.

Jeff nodded. "Suit yourself. So, about you and Paula..."

Picky pointed to a nearby snowbank. "I'll just be over there," he said, and left us alone.

"Did you have to do it like that?" I hissed to Jeff.

"Well, I figured a kid like him was probably still in the cooties stage of romance. Besides, I am kinda curious, since Paula was saying you two weren't speaking with each other," he said.

Great. So she was talking to Jeff, but not me. "It's a long story, but that's not why we're here," I said. I explained to him everything that'd happened so far.

When I'd finished, Jeff looked thoughtful. "So you figure that these memories, which you'd forgotten all this time, are going to piece together something, huh?" he summarized.

"Pretty much. Wanna come along? We could use the help," I asked.

He shook his head. "Tempting, but I've got other things I need to take care of. Besides, this sounds kinda personal," he replied.

"Oh..." I tried not to sound too disappointed, but I must not have succeeded.

Jeff looked at me. "Ness, I'm not entirely sure what this is all leading up to, but chances are it's going to be mostly between you and Pokey. I could help, but I'd really just be on the outside. This is probably something best handled by you and Picky," he explained. "Besides, it's not like there's any monsters you need blasted away, right?"

I nodded. "You're probably right. Gee whiz, when did you get so dang sage-like?"

He grinned. "Since I started traveling with you and got a basis of comparison."

I punched him on the arm and we chuckled for a bit. Finally, he said, "Well, musn't keep my friends waiting. Er, what few I have here anyway. Good luck, Ness."

"Thanks," I replied, and turned to go.

"Oh, and Ness?"

I looked back. "Yeah?"

"Get in contact with Paula sometime, okay? Try to figure out exactly what's going on. I don't want to see you two broken up like this."

I nodded. "Uh, sure. Um, you know we weren't actually dating or being romantic or anything, right?"

"Maybe YOU weren't... but what about her?" With that, he opened the gates and entered the school.

I blinked. What the heck did he mean by THAT?

Picky was shivering like a mouse by the time we finished our long trek to the cave of the Rainy Circle. We'd picked up a couple of thick jackets at the store near the school before we headed out, but a coat can only do so much when you're walking in snow in your tennis shoes.

"I st-still don't s-see why w-we c-couldn't have just t-teleported here d-directly," Picky complained.

"Look, if I could figure out how to do that, I would. As it stands, I can only seem to hit certain spots, so don't whine. We could've been paying for airfare, after all," I shot back. The cold hadn't done much for my congeniality, either.

Picky muttered something I couldn't make out. I ignored it.

The cave was just as hauntingly beautiful as it had been in the days when it had been Paula, Jeff, Poo and I travelling around the world, but the overall journey was much easier without being attacked by gators and bears every few steps. Much sooner than I expected, we stood at the mouth of the cave, staring into the clearing where, via some unexplained phenomena, a perpetual rainstorm occurred centralized entirely over one small little pond.

"You ready for this?" I asked Picky.

"I th-think the m-more im-p-p-portant qu-question is, are you?" he asked; a sentence which would've sounded wiser without the chattering teeth.

"I don't know, Picky. But if I don't go now I may never be ready. Let's do this."

He slipped his hand into mine, and we entered the clearing.

Music. Flash.

It's been over six months since Pokey and I decided to be friends. It's largely been a one way relationship; sometimes I feel like a status symbol more than anything, and indeed Pokey seems to be picked on less for hanging out with me. On my end, I've lost a few friends who can't understand why I hang out with a guy like Pokey, and for a friendship I sure get a lot of verbal abuse. Yet every so often, Pokey does something really surprising, like pay for snacks for the two of us, or get a frisbee that was accidentally tossed into a neighbor's yard. He's self-centered, but at least it's not entirely a one-way street.

But in the six months I've known him, he's never once invited me over. Sure, he's been at my place plenty of times, though I think my mother isn't too fond of him. But whenever the idea is suggested that I go to his place instead, he coughs and changes the subject. It's been bugging me for eons.

Enough of that, though. I decide to drop in on him unexpectedly.

I knock on the door, a very normal knock which I perform rather pointedly. Pokey has this weird method of knocking on my door which alternates between a normal knock, "Shave and a Haircut," and just straight-out pounding.

The door opens widely. It's Pokey on the other side. He stands to attention, then realizes who is on the other side and pales.

"Ness! Jeez, you pig's butt! What the heck are you doing here? If my parents find out you're my new friend, they're gonna freak!" he says, looking half ready to have a heart attack -- something I wouldn't put past him, considering his weight.

"Hey, I just wanted to say 'hi.'" I shrug, then stare at him. "Is THAT the whole reason you don't want me coming over -- because your parents don't like my family?" I ask in disbelief.

"No no, it's just -- well, yes, actually. Look, man, you don't KNOW my parents. If they know I'm seeing somebody poorer than me, I'm outta the will!" He looks panicked.

I think about it for a minute. "Are they here now?"

He blinks. "Well, no..."

"Well then, it couldn't hurt for me to hang out for a bit, right? And if we hear 'em coming in the driveway, I'll just sneak out the back window or something. It'll be fun!" I say, grinning.

He looks hesitant. There's a part of me that suspects that his reluctance isn't entirely from parental troubles, but I don't say this. "Come on, man, you always hang out at my place! Gimme a break already!"

After some indecision, he seems to give in. "Fine. But don't filth up the carpet, and don't sit on the furniture. I don't wanna leave any evidence, you hear?" he orders.

I roll my eyes, but obligingly knock the dirt off my shoes thoroughly before entering the house. The inside is almost ridiculously clean. Furthermore, while full of fancy stuff, there doesn't appear to be a lot of personality to the place. I feel almost like being inside one of those boring furniture places my parents used to drag me along to on occasion, except those places felt WELCOMING.

Pokey doesn't seem to want to show me around much. I get the feeling he's got one hand on the door and the other on my shirt collar at all times, especially considering how jumpy he is. Still, he loosens up a little, and finally we sit and watch a little TV. He's got really boring channels, but I can't really do anything about that.

I hear a shuffling. Blinking, I look towards the stairs. There's a little kid there, a sort of Mini-Pokey peeking from around the corner. He turns red and steals back upstairs.

I continue looking, wondering about this. Pokey notices. "Yo, Ness! Whatchya lookin' at? Nothin' sparkly, I hope." He snickers at his own joke.

I glare at him. "Actually, I thought I saw somebody."

Pokey stops snickering abruptly, and turns pale. "'Scuse me a sec." He gets up and charges up the stairs.

Before I know what's happening, I can hear a lot of noise upstairs, sounding something like a scuffle, and a little yelping. I shrink a little, embarrassed. After a minute or two, Pokey comes back down.

"Sorry 'bout that. Now, back to some cartoons." He gives the okay sign.

I stare for a long time, and Pokey begins shifting a little in discomfort. "You never told me you had a brother."

Pokey looks uncomfortable. "Well, what about it?"

"Well, it's kinda one of those things you oughta know about your friends. I mean, I told you about my sister, right?"

He starts twiddling his fingers. "Well, um, it's kinda different. See, my folks are all overprotective 'n stuff about my bro, see, and they're worried 'bout outside influences. So he just kinda keeps cooped up here all day," he explains.

"So what was all that noise upstairs about?" I ask.

"Look, man, just making sure he doesn't rat the two of us out. You know how it is, you gotta keep little kids like that under your thumb 'n all. Don't worry, my folks won't hear a thing about it," he says.

I think about Tracy, who wouldn't let ANYBODY put their thumb down on her, especially not me. Not that I'd want to, really -- we fight a lot, but we get along pretty well otherwise. So I can't really agree with Pokey's statement, but I know it's probably useless arguing.

We turn back to the cartoon, which is a pretty dopey feel-good thing. "So what's his name, anyway?"

"Whose?"

"You know, your brother's."

"Does it matter?"

"Go on, man, I wanna know!"

"Geez, don't get your pants in a twist. Pickford."

"Pickford?" I scrunch my nose up.

"Yeah. Pretty dopey, right?"

"...I suppose."

We watch a little longer. Pokey doesn't say anything else. I prompt again: "How old is he, anyway? Three, four?"

"Five. You couldn't tell by lookin' at him, though. He's kinda stupid."

"Five? That means he's gonna be in kindergarten next year, doesn't it? Hey, maybe he can walk to school with us --"

Pokey stiffens, then suddenly gets up. "Oh crap, I think I hear my folks! Get moving, get moving, get moving!" He's shoving me towards the door with a surprising amount of strength. I try to protest, but he's having none of it.

"No really, man, I don't hear anythi--"

He shoves me out the back door. "Look, man, I'll see you tomorrow, 'k? Bye." Within a second, the door's shut, and I'm standing in front of it feeling like I just missed something.

"Yo, Ness! Ness! Snap out of it!"

I started. Picky was waving a hand in front of my face, snapping his fingers. When I looked at him, he breathed a sigh of relief. "G-geez, man, that was c-creepy! You just k-k-kinda stood there bl-blankly! It r-reminded m-me of th-those z-zombies that were sup-p-posed to be w-wandering around Th-threed last year, y'kn-know?"

"Was I? Sorry." I scratched the back of my head, feeling sheepish, then thought for a minute. "Hey Picky, what do you remember about the first time we met?"

"Huh? W-well, I th-think I r-remember it b-being k-kinda odd th-that P-pokey had a fr-friend over, s-since he n-never r-really m-mentioned it and it's FREAKING COLD! C-c'mon, N-ness, l-let's g-get out of h-here!" Picky shivered dramatically.

"All right, all right, hold on a sec." Looking around, I worried that with the snow everywhere, looking for the crystal was going to be like finding a needle in a haystack. As it turned out, though, I didn't need to worry -- something about the crystal drew me right to the location. I pocketed it, then turned back to Picky. "Let's boogy."

"R-right." He grabbed onto me, and we teleported out of there to our next destination: Fourside.

Author's Notes:

Well, none really, save for the fact that this has been, once again, WAY too long in the making. My Creative Writing teacher last year told me I explain things too much anyway.

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