You may think this is heaven -- it’s not that at all...

[playonforever]

On the midway, tucked between two tents - or rather, rearing up between them - there is a building that looks like a wooden palace. It's almost four stories tall and exploding with color. Across the front run depictions of heroes of the Wood, fae and humans, fighting monsters and mostly winning. Statues, perfect in likeness to the things they

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[w_for_wizard]

Harry lost Murphy a while back, somehow, in the crowds of the midway. He shouldn't have lost her, not when they were both making sure to stick close, not be separated... But in a crowd of mostly fae, it probably shouldn't be surprising that they managed to draw them apart anyway.

There's a flash of blonde hair near that massive wooden building, a silhouette he recognizes, and Harry hurries toward her, shouldering roughly past anyone who gets in his way. "Murphy!"

She disappears into the funhouse before he can catch up, and Harry pulls up short of the entrance, clenching his jaw and trying to think clearly through the blaring carnival music and the worry for Murphy's sake. Something's wrong here, he knows that, and maybe the smart thing to do would be to circle around the back and wait for her to come out... But if something's wrong, he can't help but see that as all the more reason to go in after her. Especially considering what might be in that building

[playonforever]

She kisses the top of his head again, making gentle shushing sounds. "It's okay. I'm not surprised, the way you've been working on that thing."

Murphy gives a tiny jolt of surprise, before smiling again. "Looks like we woke the neighbors."

He'll be able to feel them, tiny impacts, almost like irregular heartbeats against his forehead. Murphy rests her hand in his hair. "Morning, daddy."

[w_for_wizard]

Harry flinches a little in surprise himself, but he doesn't pull away. He laughs softly, and when that voice whispering about how this isn't real rises again, he shoves it viciously into some dark back corner of his mind for the time being. It's the idea that this could not be real that's started to scare him now...

He lifts his head, finally, to smile up at Murphy. "You... you mentioned Maggie?"

[playonforever]

She seems to relax, though she's still running her hands through his hair as though somehow that will keep him calm. "She'll be back at dinner. I can call Charity and cancel her playdate with Harry if you want. She's here and she's safe, I promise you."

Murphy takes a slow, deep breath and starts to ease herself up out of the chair again. And then gives up. She flashes Harry a plaintive grin. "Give me hand? I will kill you if you make any references to chivalry. At all."

[w_for_wizard]

"I..." No. He needs room to think, and time to figure this out. If he's in a room with the daughter he can't know, not really... He won't be able to think at all. Not of anything but her, and this family, and... He shakes his head a little, finally. "That's okay. Let her play."

Harry stands up to offer her a hand, with a grin he can't hold back despite himself. "I'm pretty sure I could outrun if you, if it came down to it..."

[playonforever]

"I know where you live." She grabs his hand and drags herself upright with a grunt. "Things I will not miss: feeling like I have an outraged watermelon stitched into my abdomen."

Murphy slides her arm around his waist and leans against him. "Oh, I told Stallings to drop off copies of his current case files this afternoon - I promised I wouldn't go into the office I never said I'd stop working. So if I'm napping when he shows up, just leave them on the kitchen table for me?" A beat, and then, "You're sure you're all right."

[w_for_wizard]

"Yeah," he says absently, moving to support her as she leans against him. "Of course..." Come to think of it, he'd like to get a look at those case files, if he can, just to see what kind of cases she's getting. She can't be in SI here in this... whatever it is, can she? But if she's not...

How did we meet? The question hovers on the tip of his tongue, almost spoken, but no. That's just going to get her to stare at him like he's crazy again, to ask questions like-

Like that one. "Yes," he answers, steering her out of the office. "Are you?" Even taking the pregnancy into account... she actually doesn't look so great. Should he be worried about that? Well, if this is real...

Okay, yeah, he's worried.

[playonforever]

"I'm fine." It's only a little exasperated. "Vitamins taken care of, food actually staying down." Quieter, she grumbles, "Charity never puked half her weight in saltines when she had Harry."

Murphy shakes her head, leaning a little more heavily against him in a kind of half-hug. "Nutritionist tomorrow. Thomas's nutritionist. Did I tell you he's paying for the appointments?" She grins up at him. "He said it was an early birthday present for the baby."

[w_for_wizard]

Thomas. "I'll have to thank him for that..." The comment's distracted, most of his focus elsewhere.

Harry's instinct is to find Thomas, talk this out with him - but if Murphy's being this little help... Thomas can't be much better. There's a chance Murphy's real here, but Thomas...

Still. All he has to work with is what's in front of him, here and now. What's the worst that could happen if he goes poking everything he can think of with a metaphorical stick? Sooner or later, if he does it enough, he's bound to find something that'll tell him what to believe...

[playonforever]

"Tomorrow," she says firmly.

The kitchen in this house is a lot more modern than Murphy's real one. New stove, new fridge, new appliances. Murphy herself totters over to the counter. "Now are you making breakfast, or am I?"

[w_for_wizard]

Harry ends up making breakfast - which is not something he's used to, or very good at, but she had to cling to him just to get down the hall. Her sitting down is probably a good thing.

Murphy's napping when Stallings drops by later, and Harry takes the opportunity to shuffle quickly through the case files. Nothing there that actually helps him, but... she works for Internal Affairs. Internal Affairs. One more tally mark in the "can't be real" column.

He drops the files on the table with a sigh and starts stalking through the house, searching for keys. His or Murphy's, doesn't matter - he needs to get out of this house. Where he plans to go, he's not sure, but anywhere not here seems like a good start.

[playonforever]

Right about then is when he'll hear someone in his back yard. The man has his back to Harry, though the massive Newfoundland in the yard seems happy to see him. He's dark haired with a feathering of silver, wearing flannel and built along the lines of a Mack truck.

Michael Carpenter straightens, turns, and spots Harry through the window. He waves and signals the man to come outside.

[w_for_wizard]

Harry hesitates for a second or two, but he has no good reason not to go out and see what Michael wants. He ducks out the back door, and... he might be staring very intently at Michael's face as he walks up. Possibly checking for white eyes. Like it would ever be that easy...

"Michael," he says by way of greeting, reaching out to scratch behind Mouse's ears as the dog bounds toward him. Harry actually smiles a little at that - whether or not this is imaginary... he missed his dog.

[playonforever]

"Harry." The other man tucks his hands into his pockets, regarding Harry silently for a long moment before he says anything else. "Karrin called me. She told me about this morning."

He reaches over to scratch Mouse's neck. "She's not stupid, Harry."

[w_for_wizard]

Harry manages not to grimace, but only just. He considers playing innocent or playing along, insisting it was just a nightmare, but... What's the point? Unless Michael plans to knock him out and drag him to a hospital, the worst that can happen is he thinks he's crazy. Which... he obviously already does.

"Is this the part where you tell me I should see a doctor, this happens all the time, everything's gonna be alright?" Harry asks, unthinkingly squaring his shoulders and straightening like he's bracing for a fight. "Already got it, and it'd be a hell of a lot more convincing if I could remember anything about what's supposed to be my life."

[playonforever]

Michael sighs. "It does not happen 'all the time.' It has happened twice before, and both times for very good reason."

He plucks a stick off the lawn and hurls it across the yard. Mouse goes thundering after it. "What do you want to know."