When Christine's crying fit ended, she had exhausted herself to asleep in his arms. Vince had situated her in his car's shotgun seat and had kept driving.
Hours later, Christine woke to see the morning sun peeking through Cuddleberry's translucent windows.
"Wakey wakey, you slept like a baby~"
Christine heard Vince's voice. The next moment, the translucent windows turned transparent, and bright morning sunlight washed her eyes.
Her hands shot out to cover her eyes, "Cut it out, AJ!"
"Not happening," Vince laughed. "You slept for almost eleven hours. Any more and you're just begging to be called a Snorlax."
"...You realize that if I'm a Snorlax, then that makes you one too, right, lovely brother?" Christine smirked, smug.
"Step-brother," Vince let out a toothy victory grin. "You meant lovely step-brother, right step-sister?"
"More like a terrible step-brother…" Christine grumbled in a low tone.
"What was that, Christy?" Vince asked with intrigue.
"I said, I hate you," Christine said, rubbing her eyes to wake herself.
Vince laughed, happy that she was back to her usual temper, and kept driving.
Christine looked outside. To her surprise, she was no longer in the concrete jungle called Dallas. Instead, her gaze met long stretches of farmland as far as the eye could see.
"Where… are we?" Christine asked, mesmerized by the scenery of lands covered in green, basking in the golden color of sunlight.
"We just crossed the South Dakota border," Vince stated.
"Wait…" Christine's eyes slowly turned wide as a realization dawned on her: "Does that mean you're officially taking me to hunt with you?"
"Kind of," Vince hesitantly nodded. "Consider this case to be your test. If you do badly, I'll send you somewhere where they will protect you, but you will be stuck there for a long time. If you do good, you're sticking with me."
Christine inhaled a sharp breath, a smile involuntarily blooming across her face. Then she composed herself, and something she had been rather curious about.
"Dakota is like, really far away from Dallas, how are we here so quickly?" She asked.
"I just drove overnight," Vince shrugged.
"Yeah, I thought so," Christine nodded as if confirming something. "You don't need to sleep, do you?"
"I mean, I always can, I just wouldn't go crazy without it." Vince casually said.
Christine sighed; she wasn't necessarily jealous of him. After all, he never made her jealous, but sometimes—
"You must be hungry." Vince interrupted her thoughts. "You can wash up after we stop somewhere, but for now,"—the glove compartment in front of her automatically opened up, revealing a bowl of mixed yogurt oatmeal, and a fruit salad—"Eat up, Christy."
Christine's heart warmed at his gesture before she picked up a bowl and scrunched her features exaggeratedly, "How long were these sitting in the compartment for, AJ?"
"Years," Vince cackled. "These are as fresh as it gets, Christy."
She considered Vince's words before taking a bite from the salad, and her taste buds seemed to agree with Vince because the next instant, with great shock, she asked, "How? How does this work? Does this compartment magically produce food?"
"Let's just say that there are many things you don't know about me," Vince replied mysteriously.
Christine raised an eyebrow, "Okay, you can't just drop a line like that and not elaborate. Spill."
Vince gave her a pensive stare for a moment, and then nodded, "Sure, what do you want to know?"
"Let's see," Christine tapped the spoon on her bowl, then turned to him. "What can you do? Like, what are your powers?"
"Omen never told you?" Vine tilted his head.
"She…" Christine's voice dimmed slightly, "She never even told me her real name."
"Oh," Vince voiced, as if realizing something. "It's not that she didn't want to tell you her name, it's just that she couldn't."
"Hm, is that so?" Christine asked.
"Yes." Vince nodded and dropped a bombshell, "In fact, her name has been wiped from your memories ever since we were children."
"What?!" Christine explained, almost spilling the contents of her mouth. "Excuse me!? Who removed my memories?"
"Omen did, of course," Vince casually increased his bombshell streak, "although I like to say I helped too."
"I can't believe this," Christine said, fuming
"Christy, relax, alright," Ajax gestured with his hand towards her. "She didn't just wipe your memory exclusively, you know, she did it to everybody who ever knew her, excluding me, of course."
"Why would she do that?" Christine crossed her arms under her chest.
"You see, her name is bound to something very destructive. Knowing her name isn't the problem." Vince elaborated, "But projecting it to the world via saying it or writing it can have some devastating effects."
Christine met his gaze with a betrayed look, "How could she do that? How could you let her?" She bit her lip, "Brainwashing her own child, couldn't we have talked about it? Why remove my memories, why do something so extreme?"
"It was to protect you, Christy. We're barely fourteen when she did it, you know." Vince's expression softened, "And, it's not like she enjoyed doing it. I still remember crying for weeks after we were forced to brainwash everyone who ever knew her. She couldn't look you in the eyes for months after she had done it, you know."
"But still," Christine looked at Vince intently, "you kept your memories, didn't you?"
"I am probably the only being on Earth who is both strong and informed enough to deal with the devastating entity that appears when you call Omen's given name, and come out unscathed." Vince sighed and rested his hand on hers, "Trust me, nobody wanted this. But, it had to be done."
"Fine…" Christine lowered her head with a deep frown. "Even if we ignore this whole thing for a second, why did neither of you ever bother to tell me this?"
"I mean," Vince looked away nervously. "We kind of just assumed that you had already put the pieces together at some point from the fact that you and I and everybody always refer to Omen by her moniker, and we're in the, you know, supernatural business, and figured out that knowing her real name is a bad idea."
Christine gave him a blank stare.
"Now, I am not saying it's your fault," Vince hesitated slightly, "but you can't really blame us for thinking you're smarter than you actually were."
"And you're a genius for never mentioning it," Christine scoffed.
"Are you telling me that it seriously never occurred to you that Omen sounds a lot like an alias and not a real name?" Vince tilted his head. "And, it's not like you rarely hear the name either, I call you Mom Omen all the time."
"I–"
"Come to think of it," Vince interrupted before Christine could answer, "I didn't always call your mom Omen. I referred to her by tons of other names, too. Step-mom, mom, mommy, sugar mama, babe, baby, honey, my chinchilla, sweetheart, pie, creampie—okhay, I am gonna stop now."
"You're unbelievable, you know that." Christine turned her head to the window.
"Hey, I am sorry," Vince chuckled apologetically, "I can't help it, you know? Ugh… I dug my own grave on this one," he muttered under his breath. "Back to the topic before I drifted the conversation, you're asking about my powers, yes?"
Christine gave Vince a passive-aggressive HUMPH,
Feeling guilty, Vince slowed Cuddleberry and turned to Christine's direction. "I'm sorry, I should've—"
"Pffft—Muaha-ha-ha!" Christine burst out laughing, "Your guilty face is adorable."
"Is that how it is?" Vince squirted his eyes, his lips curved up, "You're so lucky you're too old for noggies, Christy."
Christine cackled with a cheeky grin for a long few minutes, and finally said, "Anyway, Mom said you're…?"