Title: What Children Forget

Author: MJParker

Fandom: Reaper

Pairing/Characters: Sam, Ben, Sock, Josie, Mrs. Oliver, and the Devil

Rating/Category: PG

Word Count: 4,454

Spoilers: No season finale spoilers. Basic premise spoilers apply.

Summary: At eight years old, Sock has an imaginary friend who tells him to do things, but for some reason Sam is the only one who can see it. This is sort of a 'what could have happened' story featuring the characters in childhood. bb!Reapers, as my word file name reads.

Notes: I've always made assumptions about the friendships of the main three and their girls. In my mind, Sam, Sock, Ben, and Josie have probably known each other since first or second grade. That's how they ended up together, because I'm not sure Josie would have given him a second look if they'd only just met in high school. Andi was a late addition to the group, probably a high school friend of Josie's, and thus she's not applicable here.

It's a stand alone and I got the idea mainly from watching a lot of Family Guy and listening to the Damn Yankees soundtrack. Fans of the two might see the homage. It's pretty blatant. And, well, you know the obvious... please don't sue, because I own none of it.

Many thanks to Kathy, my beta, who read it through, betaed, and made sure that my kids sounded like kids.

Ben's mom was always working and so she was never around after the school day was through. To make up for it she sometimes took the kids on the weekends. Sock's mom wasn't working, but since neither Ben nor Sam were allowed inside his house and Josie's mother had threatened to kill her if she set foot on the property after a certain incident, it didn't matter that his mother, despite not working, was never around to take them places. It was alright in Sam's book given that he couldn't pronounce Wysolki and he wasn't allowed to call adults by their first names. It left him in quite the conundrum when it came to Sock's mother.

Then there was Josie's mother. She worked sometimes, but more often she stayed home taking care of Josie's baby brother. Josie said that her mother said that the last thing she needed were three other kids running around her house and waking the baby. That left Sam's mom, who didn't work and had no other distractions besides Sam himself.

Sam didn't entirely mind that his mom was the defacto group mom. Sometimes it was kind of cool, if only because it meant that he didn't have to worry whether or not he would like the days after school snack and because he knew that when he was with his mom she didn't worry as much. His mom was very over protective.

Whenever Sam or Ben's mom picked the four children up from school they went straight to the park. Sam was rather proud of the fact that his mom always brought oreos for everyone (the best snack), including Sock's invisible pet monkey.

"Chewie says thanks, Ms. Oliver." Crumbs fell down Sock's chin before he ran off to join Ben, Sam, and Josie.

"Chewie," Ben said, stuffing another cookie between his lips. "Is a wookie name."

Sock stuck out his tongue. "You can't see him," he answered, as if that solved everything. Sam was well aware that in Sock's mind, it solved quite a lot.

"I can," Sam said. He shrugged as he pulled apart his oreo, preparing to lick away the icing with an utmost deliberance. He paused for a moment and looked up as the brown tufted monkey with red eyes that sat next to Sock and which Sam could indeed see.

It was a little scary, but at eight and a half Sam was reluctant to admit to anyone, especially his mother, that he was scared of something no one else could see.

"Stop lying, Sam. You're encouraging him." Case in point, Joisie. Older than all of them at a round nine years old, Josie liked to play boss. Sock liked it. Ben and Sam did what they could to avoid it while wondering what exactly 'encourage' actually meant anyway.

All Sam could do was look at Josie and mutter around his juicebox straw, "I'm not lying."

"My aubela says if you lie you go to hell," Ben offered. He scuffed his sneaker in the woodchips, kicking a spray towards Sock and his invisible monkey.

Sam watched as the red eyed monkey leaned over and whispered something in Sock's ear. A message which Sock promptly related to the group. "Chewie says to stop kicking us, Ben."

"Chewie didn't say anything," Ben retorted, but he stopped kicking woodchips. He wasn't that sort of kid, the one who did things just to make people angry. "What are we going to do? Sam brought the ball."

Taking that as his cue, Sam reached down and grabbed the rubber kick ball between his feet with sticky fingers covered in icing and crumbs. "I don't want to play house," he said, giving Josie a pointed look. She always wanted to play house and when they did he and Ben always had to be the kids. It was bad enough when Josie bossed them around by herself, but as the 'father' Sock very often tried to make them eat worms.

"Chewie says we should play foursquare."

"Chewie isn't real," Josie said with such vehemence that Sam suspected had they ended up playing house Sock would have been put in time out. She looked rather displeased with him when she stood up and snatched the ball out of Sam's hands. "I get to be king—ew, Sam." She stared down at the crumbs that now covered her hands.

Sam and Chewie laughed. Well, to be fair, Sam could only assume that Chewie had laughed as well. It certainly looked like laughter on the monkey shaped lips and with the way he slapped Sock's back with such camaraderie. He wondered if it was slapping his friend could feel. Sock couldn't see the monkey, Sam knew that much, but he could hear it perfectly. It didn't make sense to Sam why the person who 'owned' Chewie wouldn't be able to see him. Personally, Sam wanted nothing to do with the monkey and would have preferred to neither see nor hear him.

He got up, wiping crumbs onto his shirt. "C'mon, let's play." This once he was willing to follow Josie's instructions, just as long as they could all get along.

"Don't push, Sock." Or perhaps not. Josie seemed to have gotten herself into a permanently bad mood and Chewie the monkey wasn't helping as he stood behind her and pushed her towards the foursquare box and pulled on her skirt at the same time.

"I didn't do anything." Bits of oreo spat out of Sock's mouth as he yelled at the girl and jabbed his finger at Josie's back where Chewie stood fiddling with the hem of her skirt. "He's doing it."

Josie glared. "Then maybe," she said, looking startlingly like her mother. "You should tell him to behave."

"He's not a good listener. He's got ADHD."

Ben shook his head. "No, that's what Miss. Dwyer says you have, Sock."

"What's that?" Sam asked. It was one of those things he always heard his teacher whispering about when they were supposed to be doing their 'sustained silent reading'. Usually it was in connection with Sock.

"It's—Stop it, Sock! It's not funny!" Josie whirled around to face Sock, clutching the ball in her hands. "Stop it! It's not the monkey, it's you." Ben and Sam just watched, both wincing as Josie threw the rubber ball straight into Sock's stomach. The boy doubled over onto his knees, groaning and clutching his stomach in pain. Josie stood above him looking fairly superior for someone who was just eight.

The ball bounced off to the side of the playground, forgotten. Ben bent down next to Sock and Sam watched as Chewie fell back on the ground, laughing hard with his arms wrapped around his furry stomach and his red eyes glinting with amusement. Sam wondered, not for the first time, if there wasn't something completely wrong with the thing that followed Sock everywhere.

"Play nice, guys!" Sam heard his mother shout out. The defacto group mother only barely looked up from her book, obviously trusting them to sort things out amongst themselves.

"I'll go get the ball," he mumbled.

The ball had bounced relatively hard off of Sock's stomach, rolling in the direction of the playground equipment and lodging itself underneath the bottom of the yellow tube slide towards the back. Sam started off, sparing only one glance over his shoulder to check on the red-eyed monkey still rolling around on the ground in fits of laughter. He really didn't like that thing very much.

The playground wasn't very large and it didn't take him very long to make is way over to the jungle gym. He was wondering if maybe it would just be a better idea to play on that instead of trying to organize a game of foursquare. Between Josie and the invisible monkey the game's chances of success didn't look that good. Sock's chances for a bloody nose, on the other hand…

Sam grinned a bit. Sometimes it was funny when Sock got beaten up by a girl. Sometimes.

His friends were waiting. By volunteering to get the ball he had an obligation to retrieve it at least somewhat quickly, so he crunched down next to the base of the slide in order to wiggle his way underneath and kick the ball free. He was more concentrated on not hitting his head and avoiding the worms that Sock wasn't forcing him to eat than actually reaching the ball at first, but eventually found himself forced to suck it up and get stuck in with the mud and dirt mixed with woodchips beneath the slide.

"Sam!" It was Ben's voice shouting across the playground as Sam made an attempt to grab at the ball which had gotten itself lodged in tightly. He needed longer arms.

"Need some help, kiddo?"

Sam turned around, hitting his head as he did so. "Ow."

"Watch it there." The man who'd spoken looked like somebody's grandfather, he thought. Sam pulled away from the slide, rubbing the back of his head. His hair stood up in tufts, looking sort of like Sock's, after his hand ran through. Wincing, he looked up and wondered why this man was wearing a suit on the playground. His father always ran up to change before even going out in the backyard to play catch with him. But this man didn't seem to mind that his shoes were getting muddy and that some of that mud could possibly end up on his red socks, red tie, and red pocket kerchief. His hair was slicked back and he looked like he'd spent a lot of time at the beach recently. He was grinning brightly at Sam. "Your head would be a terrible thing to damage."

"Um… I guess?" Sam wasn't sure how he was supposed to respond that that. Sounded like 'the mind is a terrible thing to waste', except slightly… meaner. His teachers never sounded mean when they said it. "Our ball got stuck."

"I saw." The man shook his head. "I'm surprised that monkey didn't throw it over here."

"What?"

The man pointed a rather tanned finger over towards Josie, Ben, and Sock. "The monkey looking up your friend's skirt. He seems like the type who'd throw a perfectly good ball in the mud."

"Chewie? You can see Chewie?" Looking from his friends back to the man and then back to his friends again, Sam balked.

"His name is Mike."

"No, it's Chewie."

"No, Sammy, his name is Mike," the man shook his head before extending his hand down towards Sam. "And my name, is Mr. Mr. Applegate."

Sam only reached out to shake Mr. Applegate's hand because he knew that it was the polite thing to do. However, it was at odds with his knowledge that he was not supposed to talk to strangers like this. His mom had always warned him against it. But there were strangers, and then there were strangers who could see invisible monkeys and knew his name. He was too curious not to talk to the latter. "How do you know Chewie? And how do you know my name?"

"Mike ran away from my house about… a week ago, let's say." Mr. Applegate was still grinning widely.

Sam made a face. "You have a monkey? You're not allowed to have a monkey for a pet." He'd definitely learned that in school when Sock had brought his pet alligator in for show and tell in the second grade. His teacher had promptly sent home a list of animals to parents that were not appropriate to have as pets or for show and tell. Alligators had been on the list twice.

Mr. Applegate just kept grinning. "I wouldn't call him a pet, but I'm going to need him back."

"How come they can't see him? And how come I can't hear him? And why's he got red eyes? And can you tell him to stop bugging Josie? She keeps getting angry with us." He found that he'd forgotten to wonder how he'd known that his name was Sam. "That's not a monkey. Monkeys don't talk."

"Smart kid. I did good with this one," the older man tilted his head back and laughed for a moment. His eyes crinkled and his white teeth gleamed. "It's not a monkey, but I still need it back. Want to help?"

"How?"

"Go play some Frisbee." Seemingly out of nowhere, Mr. Applegate produced a shiny red Frisbee. It was bright and not dented and scratched like the one in Sam's room at home, but never the less it didn't look like it really could have come from the inside of his suit jacket where he'd pulled it from. Sam peered closely at the man's hands, looking for some sort of trick somewhere on either his hands or the Frisbee itself. He wished he could have seen inside of the suit jacket.

He didn't take the disc immediately, instead looked up at the man with some suspicion. "I don't get it."

"Here." Mr. Applegate thrust the Frisbee towards Sam, doing everything but physically opening up his hand to make him take it. "Just throw it to your friend Sock."

"But the ball—"

"What ball?"

"The ball that got stuck under the…" Sam trailed off as he turned and pointed to underneath the slide where the ball had been just five minutes ago when he'd started talking to the man. There was noting but dirt, worms, and woodchips there now. The red rubber ball was gone, along with Sam, Sock, Ben, and Josie's hopes of foursquare. Sam had a plastic red Frisbee and the vague dream of a two on two game of ultimate in return. It didn't really measure up at all.

He looked up at Mr. Applegate. The man was still grinning. Sam didn't ever think he'd seen an adult grin this much. "You like Frisbee, right? Every kid likes a Frisbee."

"We also like foursquare." His ball had vanished into thin air and as a eight year old kid, he had every right to be unhappy about that. The Frisbee didn't make up for it and he knew his friends were going to be upset.

"Variety's the spice of life, Sammy." The Frisbee was shoved under his nose once more.

Sammy was a girl's name. "It's Sam." He wasn't going to get his ball back and he had to go back with something, so he reached out and took the disc from Mr. Applegate's hand. It didn't feel weird and it didn't bite. It was just a Frisbee and Sam didn't understand how this was supposed to help catch a pet monkey. Chewie had never shown signs of liking to play fetch before and what else was a Frisbee good for when it came to a pet?

Mr. Applegate watched for a moment as Sam turned the toy over in his hands, tossed it up about a foot in the air, and caught it again. "Just throw it."

"I don't get it," Sam said, clutching it. "How is the—"

"Throw the frisbee." Mr. Applegate wasn't smiling anymore.

That voice… Sam decided it was a voice that he didn't really want to hear again. It was angry, scary, maybe a little mean, like the voice of that guy who had the chainsaw that his mom never wanted his dad to let him watch. It didn't sound like it should have come out of Mr. Applegate's mouth and Sam didn't want to find out what happened next. It was like when that little vein on his dad's head started popping out after he'd done something like trying to prune the bushes himself— Ben's idea, not his.

He looked at the Frisbee again. He didn't understand why he was being asked to throw a Frisbee. He didn't understand how a Frisbee was going to get rid of Chewie, the invisible monkey with the red eyes and a penchant for looking up girl's skirts and pulling their pigtails (in that order). He didn't understand where his ball had gone or why Mr. Applegate knew his name. He didn't think he wanted to see what would happen if he threw the Frisbee, but he was more sure that he didn't want to see Mr. Applegate's metaphorical vein pop out even further.

Sam regrasped the Frisbee and lifted it into throwing position. "That'aboy, Sammy." Suddenly the man was smiling brightly again. Sam wasn't sure he liked that anymore than the voice.

"Hey, Sock!" he called out across the playground. He waved the Frisbee high in the air so that his friends would be able to see it and know it was coming. He could only ignore the confused looks on their faces and chose purposely to throw the thing towards Sock before Josie opened her mouth to say anything about the fact that the Frisbee obviously was not a ball. Sam knew that and he couldn't do anything about it.

It was a perfect throw. Sam didn't play much Frisbee, but he knew how to throw one and this one arced up through the air across the park. He watched as it headed straight for Sock, beginning its descent at just the right point to fall into his friend's outstretched hand.

But then it didn't. Which was odd, to say the least, because the strange turn it took through the air was anything but natural. Sam didn't throw around very often, but he threw enough to understand the way Frisbees were and were not supposed to move. Sharp, perfect ninety degree angled turns to the right were considered very unnatural, he thought, and probably shouldn't have been happening. Even Sock, Ben, and Josie looked strangely weirded out when the thing seemed to switch directions of its own free will. Sam watched as it instead soared to Sock's side, hovering next to Chewie in the air for five impossible seconds.

There was a blue flash of light, bright and cracking with sparks, electricity, and God only knew what else. Sock jumped back, very valiantly grabbing Josie with him and accidentally pulling them both to the ground while leaving poor Ben to be exposed to the elements, as it were. Ben screamed and it was only then that Sam noticed his mom look up from her book again, but he almost immediately looked back at the spot where the flash of blue had appeared and where Chewie had once been.

Chewie was gone. Even in school, Chewie had never moved more than a foot or two from Sock's side, but now he was nowhere to be found. The Frisbee landed on the ground, spinning quickly before finally coming to a complete stop in the dirt.

Sam's eyes raced back to Mr. Applegate. "Where did he go?"

With another one of his scary wide grins, the man draped his arm over Sam's shoulder, completely uninvited. He patted his shoulder and pulled him close, grinning down. "You make a man proud, Sammy."

"It's Sam," he insisted, trying but failing to shrug out of Mr. Applegate's grip. "What did you do to Chewie?"

"I didn't do anything, Sammy. That was all you."

There was a slight look of panic in his eyes as he glanced back over to his friends who seemed to have finally realised that he was talking to a strange man. Sock and Josie had gotten up from the dirt, but while Josie was trying to help Ben who looked as if he'd managed to burn his arm, Sock was back on his hands and knees on the ground, calling out for Chewie. The monkey might have been creepy and rude and gotten them into a lot of trouble everywhere they took him, but he'd been Sock's friend. Sam couldn't help but feel guilty for being the one to make him vanish.

But it hadn't been him. Not by himself, at least. The man with his arm around his shoulder had played a larger part in it than he was admitting. As weird as the red eyed monkey had been, that Frisbee was weirder and he was sorry that he'd even touched it.

Sam started wriggling out of Mr. Applegate's arm again, his efforts doubling when he noticed his mom looking over at him, a rather horrified look on her face. He half expected her to do something (he wasn't supposed to talk to strangers, after all, and he definitely wasn't supposed to take things they offered him), but she seemed frozen in her seat and Mr. Applegate just smiled at her as well, giving her a mock salute along with it as if they were old friends. It was only after Mrs. Oliver had seen that the older man let go of Sam, waving at her once more after he did. "How's Mr. Oliver doing?"

His mother didn't answer and even at eight years old, Sam knew he didn't like the look on her face. His parents weren't supposed to be scared of things, they were his parents. Sure, his mom was a girl and all, but she was an adult and she was his mom. What business did she have being scared of anything? Guilt over Chewie was pushed aside for a moment as he realised that his proximity to Mr. Applegate was really bothering her.

"That's good to hear," Mr. Applegate replied to her silence. He reached out and ruffled Sam's hair. "Cute kid, by the way. He looks like his dad."

Sam immediately ran his hand through his hair, trying to push it all back into place. His scalp felt like it was crawling where the man had touched him.

"Mrs. Oliver!" Josie's voice rang out through the nervous silence and Sam felt like he could finally focus on someone else. He looked at Ben, who was cradling his arm. "I think Ben needs antiseptic and band aids. Can we go home now?"

Normally he and Sock would have made fun of Josie for knowing a word like antiseptic, but Sock was too busy poking his head up the baby tube slide in search of his red-eyed monkey and Sam wasn't much in the joking mood. He watched as his mother stood up from the park bench and started throwing things into her purse.

He looked up at Mr. Applegate, muttering very quickly, "I have to go now. It was nice to meet you." Lies.

"That's alright," Mr. Mr. Applegate said, that smile still shining on his lips. "You did good today, kid. Go on with your mom."

Sam wasn't exactly sure what he'd done 'good' on that afternoon, though he supposed it had to do with Chewie. If that were the case, he much rather would have failed. He could tell from the way Sock was searching that he wasn't going to take the loss well. His friend wasn't going to be fun to live with for the next few days, or at least until something distracted him. Usually that wasn't exactly the hardest thing in the world to do, ADHD and all. Still, Sam felt bad.

He didn't need to be told twice when it came to going with his mom. He was happy to get away from Mr. Applegate and the reach of his arm. He bolted, hurrying over to his mom's side. She was nearly done packing and Josie was leading Ben over, all the while yelling at Sock to hurry up over her shoulder. It was going to be hard to pull him away from the search for Chewie.

Sam couldn't help but look over his shoulder once more at Mr. Mr. Applegate, even as his mom pulled him close, hugging him as if he'd had some sort of near death experience. The older man waved happily upon catching Sam's eye.

Sam turned away. "He knows dad?" he asked his mom.

It was, apparently, a mystery for another afternoon. "How many times have I told you, Samuel Oliver? You are not to talk to strangers." Sam returned her tight hug, trying his best not to squirm when she held him at arm's length to get a good look at him, as if somehow Mr. Applegate had left some mark on him that no one but her would be able to see. Sam certainly hadn't felt anything, but he let his mom do it because he knew she'd been scared for a little while and he'd decided that he hadn't liked seeing that.

"M'sorry, " he said.

"We'll talk about this when we get home." And with one final squeeze she stood up straight.

She kept his hand firmly in his as she walked over to greet Josie and Ben, and to look at Ben's arm. It was declared to be a burn and she informed them that they'd have to get home quickly, meaning that Sock had to pull his head out of the sand in the sandbox and hurry up and get in the car. Sam watched as his mom very calmly explained to Sock that only ostriches did that with their heads and that he, she was sorry to say, was not an ostrich. So Chewie or no Chewie, he was going to have to come and get in the car.

"I don't know where he went, Sam," a frowning Sock said to him as they walked back to the car. "He was there and then you threw the Frisbee and he was telling me that he wasn't going to play fetch like a stupid dog. Then the Frisbee hit him. Then he was gone."

It was as if everyone but him had forgotten seeing the bright blue flash of light and electricity. Even his mother was asking Ben where on earth he'd blistered his arm and musing aloud if the metal parts of the playground equipment had been too hot, but Sam knew she'd seen it. He knew they all had, but he remembered the look on his mom's face specifically. It was the one that had made him want to run from Mr. Applegate.

They were ushered to the car as quickly as one could usher four eight year olds. Ben, Sock, and Josie piled into the back seat while Mrs. Oliver tossed everything into the trunk and Sam pulled open the passenger door. He was still half listening to Sock go on about his lost monkey when something fell out of the car to his feet. Bending down, Sam scooped up his red foursquare ball, holding it tentatively in his hands before climbing into the car. He left the red Frisbee sitting on the ground, right where it had landed next to his ball. He liked Frisbee, but he didn't like the way Mr. Applegate played it.