Fiddleford paced back and forth, unable to think straight. His mind was boggled with thousands of equations all at once, causing him to lose it once again.

Then again, who was able to think straight all the time? Who in this town wasn't doomed with some terrible ending, unlike everyone else? Who was able to stay sane under the constant pressure of the society constantly pounding on them, no matter how hard the pleaded and cried, it wouldn't end, and they were determined to find him and make them pay?

Fiddleford sure wasn't able to. There were few things that kept him sane, and ever since Candy had forced him to cut back on his hours, he felt himself losing it again. It was in some ways unbearable.

He didn't want to appear desperate. He didn't want to make the girl more worried than she already was. He knew of the struggle she went through daily, and doing this to her would be one of the hardest things to do. He had already given her such a load, he didn't want to stress her even more.

Fiddleford lay on the floor, staring up at the ceiling to keeping himself from screaming out loud and causing more disruption. He couldn't control himself a few days ago, and now he was sure his great nieces thought he was insane, if they didn't already think he was distant. This only made it worse.

His great nieces. That was what was causing the problem. Well, not them specifically. In fact, he didn't think either of them were bad people. In fact, he thought they were both very intelligent in their own ways. It had more to do with the person one was hanging around.

Robbie Radiance. The boy he had built the shield around his powers so many years ago to protect himself, and now, the one was bringing the boy into his own house and letting him see everything. With his powers, who knew how much knowledge he could consume? With the help of that amulet, how terrible could it be?

To be fair, she probably had no idea what Robbie was actually there for. He was sure he had passed the shield onto the girls, but if she kept hanging around him, who knew how long it could last? Fiddleford didn't. All he knew was that with the more time she spent, the more danger she put her and everyone else in daily.

Fiddleford closed his eyes and took deep breaths. He had to calm down or he would lose it. He couldn't lose it, not again.

He turned on the little television he had downstairs. All that seemed to be on were infomercials, romantic soap operas, and some little kids show he didn't recognize. Either way, no matter what he watched, it was one of the few things that really kept him sane, despite what might have been going on around him. It was a distraction from everything else, and it did work, temporarily, before he had to go back.

Fiddleford walked up and out of the basement, sure he looked more than just tired. He could feel his eye bags underneath his spectacles and didn't need a mirror to know how wild his hair looked. The slight stare he had gotten from Gideon as he entered was also a bit of a clue in to him that he looked less than presentable.

Even though Gideon might have glanced for a minute, it was quiet. Besides the sound of someone flipping through a paper or the squeaky sound glass made as Candy was cleaning it, no one spoke. It hadn't been this quiet since Wendy and Pacifica had arrived. Even then, often times it was a bit louder.

"Tourists?" Fiddleford asked aloud, fixing his spectacles.

"Three groups, Mister Pines," Gideon answered, not looking up at him. The article he appeared to be reading was on hair, which struck Fiddleford as odd. Gideon had always worn a hat since the day he was hired. Why would he be so concerned about hair?

Three? That was a low number. There was usually at least five groups through a day, what caused business to be so slow today? Fridays were always a big day, with people stopping through as they got a bite to eat as they headed up to their cottages and cabins for the weekend. Slow business was peculiar.

"How many in each group?" Fiddleford said, looking at Gideon.

"Typical number," Gideon replied, flipping his magazine.

Sometimes he wondered how much Gideon really cared about his job. Then again, it wasn't like he could fire him.

"Sorry, Mister Pines," Candy said, joining the conversation. "But with the competition from the Tent o' Telepathy, we're not getting as much business as usual."

Fiddleford sighed. There were many reasons he didn't like Robbie Radiance. He knew many things about what the boy did that he wished he could forget, even if it was impossible, but the fact he was successful in business was probably one of the smaller reasons and he really shouldn't get mad at him for that, of all things. Still, he couldn't help but feel annoyed at the boy.

Was this what getting old felt like?

"Where are the girls?" Fiddleford asked, when he realized neither were around at the moment.

"I believe they went out," Gideon answered unhelpfully.

"Where did they go out?" Fiddleford asked, his tone slightly annoyed as he let out another sigh.

"They, uh," Candy started, putting down the window glass cleaner and really looked at him now.

Fiddleford now began to have a bit of an internal panic. Where had they gone? Who were they with? What were they doing? Why hadn't Candy thought to check where they were going and if it was safe? How could he find them to make sure they were alright?

Most importantly, were they with Robbie Radiance?

No, calm down, Fiddleford. They couldn't be. She knew at least the blonde one, Pacifica, didn't hang around the boy. He knew she didn't trust him, and rightfully so. Even if he couldn't tell her why he was a bad person to hang around, he was sure the girl had inherited the talent of able to sense out when something wasn't right.

"Do you have any idea where they went?"Fiddleford asked, clutching his hands together to try and stay calm.

"They, they didn't say. . ." Candy said quietly, trailing off.

Fiddleford felt he was losing it. This might've been the straw that drove him to stop trying to control himself. He felt his hands shaking, and his teeth began to chatter. He felt himself starting to mumble the random ramblings again. He couldn't even hear himself exactly what he was saying, but he could guess and be accurate.

"Mister Pines, I'll go find them," Candy said. "I think you need some rest."

"No," Fiddleford said, his tone strict when Candy started to approach them. "This is serious, Candy. I won't just leave them out there. I cannot, what if he finds them? What if anyone who works for him finds them? Once they know they're related to me, how bad can it be? He will not rid of them in a kindly manner! Oh, he's crazy, crazy, I tell you! He'd go to any length to find them, to find me! Then, then he'll come for us all, oh, he will."

"Mister Pines, I really think it's better if you get some-" Candy started, before she was cut off.

"Then again, it doesn't matter, but everything matters," Fiddleford continued. "It's all the same. If only I didn't have to see this fate, the dreadful, terrible, him."

Candy didn't follow after him when he made his way up to the attic, where the twins rooms were. He looked around, and neither were there. He was sure he would've clued if in one was trying to make a practical joke of this, trying to scare him. But there wasn't a presence of anyone.

He continued to look over their closets, under their bed sheets, anything that looked suspicious might have been a clue for him of where they were. So far, he found nothing, until he saw a little CD in the drawer by Wendy's bedside table.

He studied the cover. It had to be from some old rock band back int the Seventies or Eighties, as he had remembered seeing the disc years ago, although he couldn't remember where from. The packaging, the actual disc itself, it looked too familiar. But why had he remembered this certain disc?

He looked over at the small radio between their beds, the one Wendy must have borrowed from downstairs in order to play this CD. He opened it, placing the CD in the slot and closing it again, letting the music play.

He was right about it being some rock band, although the first odd thing was clear at first. None of the words on the disc were understandable, even to Fiddleford, after studying many different types of codes. The second thing was that the music seemed to eerie, so out of place, there had to be something wrong with it.

The first thing Fiddleford tried was playing the disc slower, trying to figure out if they were just talking so fast you couldn't understand. After a few seconds, he realized that wasn't what was wrong.

He paused the disc for a minute, leaning his head against the wall. Perhaps it was just an old disc he had found, and Wendy had just brought it from home, until it hit Fiddleford.

Why not play it backwards?

Of course! How could he have missed that? It was one of the most simple forms of code in CD form there was, if he had been fully sane and not panicked, he would've scolded himself for it. Though right now, the time limit was too little. Quickly, he turned on the disc again, from the start, and started to play the message backwards.

Almost immediately, Fiddleford knew why he recognized the disc.Why he had thought he knew what it was, even if the memory wasn't fully clear on why he knew what it was about. As soon as he heard what he thought he heard, he pasued the disc as fast as he could, and whipped the disc across the room, hoping it would break.

The Disc of Manipulation.

How had it come across into Wendy's hands? Surely, she hadn't found it herself. She couldn't have. It had been hidden far, far away from where Wendy could ever, would ever find it. How could it have fallen into her hands? Ever since he had, left, Fiddleford-

Robbie.

It also seemed too probable. She had been talking with him all week, and he was the only one who could have ever found it. Perhaps with that help of that darned amulet of his. Even the Northwest kid could never find that without magical assistance. Had he even it to her? Had he been planning to manipulate her? Something worse? Fiddleford knew he was more than capable of doing that, and Wendy was a Pines, it was so likely he was using the disc to get information out of her. Something deadly.

Fiddleford felt his hands begin to tremble even more, and he felt his forehead beaded with cold sweat. Was this what all of this had been about? Wherever they were, he now had to make sure they were alright. He could be lurking around, trying to get them, him, at any given moment.

But where where they?

He looked around, anything, any hints that might've told him where they might be, he scanned the room as quickly as he could, no time he had could be wasted trying to find where they were, perhaps it might've been best to start looking now.

It was just before he left, he spotted a little piece of paper on Pacifica's beside table, that appeared to look like a napkin, with writing on it. He picked it up frantically, unfolding the napkin and the writing began to reveal itself more and more.

Meet me at the Radiance Warehouse. 7:45 sharp. Do not be late, or else.

The Radiance Warehouse, the only non residential place where there was no visitors welcome. He had no ides what was in there himself, but if Robbie, son of the owners of the warehouse, was planning to meet there, he assumed it was because he didn't want anyone to know what he was going to do next.

Fiddleford raced down the stairs, all the way over to the door as fast as he could, which he could say hurt some of his joints, but he had no time to complain, he had people to protect.

"Mister Pines," Candy started, watching him as he bolted all the way across the house, the way over to the closest door and out to run to the Radiance Warehouse.

"Close shop, Candy! Go home!" Fidddleford called out.

He had to go protect those girls, from whatever Robbie with the power of him might do.