After the third kick to his ribs, Ray decides then and there that this carrying malarkey has to stop. It's a bad habit to have gotten into but sometimes it's easier to give in than to argue with her. Like father, like daughter.

"You're lucky you're a minor," he warns, hefting Celia higher on his back and trudging along the broadwalk. "Otherwise I'd haul you in for assaulting a cop." Technically, he's already hauling...

"Glooooooorrrrrrriiiaaaaa!" His sister's screech is so loud even Daniel pulls his hand from Ray's to cover both his ears. There is at least one difference between Ray Vecchio and Celia's miniature horse though and that is the ability to use elevators, a huge advantage when lugging around a five year old. Daniel gets to press the button for good behavior, which earns Ray another kick. It's pretty difficult to discipline anyone when they have their hands around your throat, so he files it away in his ever-expanding mental folder of Parenting Problems To Deal With Later.

When the doors ping open, it's not the basement floor they find but a narrow carriage, stretching straight ahead. Were it up to Ray, he'd stay planted to the spot but it seems the island has other plans, propelling him forward, kids in tow, until he's stood next to a guy with his nose buried in the Darrow Reporter.

Daniel's hand finds Ray's again and he looks uncertainly over his shoulder, the elevator having been replaced with a door connecting the carriages. Celia's grip tightens around his neck and the train suddenly rocks, knocking Ray into the commuter, earning him a shove back.

"Aw, great," he whines, rubbing at his chest. "I hate it already."

Thank God they'll only be here from anywhere between one and thirty days. Preferably the former.

As if the sudden change in scenery isn't insane enough, there's also the complete wardrobe change he seems to have undergone, all in a matter of a blink of an eye. There's a million questions and concerns swimming in his head, but he can't set any of them straight with the commotion around him and the movement of the train. He feels claustrophobic, caged, but isn't altogether sure if exiting at the next stop is the right plan of action.

He feels strange. Off. He can hear the sound of a single elevated heart rate, pounding in his ears, instead of the beats of everyone in the train car. This fact probably freaks him out more than anything else has. He tries not to think about it, but it's hard not to. None of this is right and it goes beyond just the location shift.

An annoying voice announces that the next stop is the last and to please make sure Ray has all of his belongs with him before alighting. He has nothing on him except two children, a badge and a pistol, none of which he's ready to sic on anyone just yet to get some information. It's not the first time he's found himself in a strange place and staying calm for the kids is enough reason not to panic straight away.

Shucking Celia off his back, Ray takes a child in each hand and steps off the train with the rest of the passengers, the platform quickly becoming a sea of moving bodies. He can just about make out D A R on the wall, so he heads towards the sign, keeping out of the way while the people swarm by.

Hesitantly, Asher finally exits the train once everyone else on the carriage has already gone. It's definitely not New York, that much he can tell as soon as he hits the platform. Not that suddenly finding himself back home would have made any more sense of this mess, but at least he'd have an easier time of getting his bearings.

He manages to cut a path through the sea of bodies, oblivious to the indignant looks and annoyed comments he receives as he shoulders his way through. Something that'll give away his location is what he's in search of, and being reduced to asking one of the walking blood bags isn't an option.

At least it doesn't smell and Ray's not seen one chicken get its head lopped off yet, so two huge advantages there.

"Welcome to Darrow. Population..." He mumbles to himself as he skims the information on the poster, glancing down at the twins once he's done. "Looks like we've got ourselves a city vacation, rug rats."

"Toy shop, toy shop, toy shop!" Celia chants, jumping up and down and tugging on his hand. Daniel looks significantly less enthusiastic so Ray gives him a reassuring smile and tries not to worry about not recognizing a single face in the crowd.

"Are you done?" Asher asks in annoyance. As interesting as staring at the back of the man's head had been, he'd prefer the view of the poster he was obscuring. And he'd prefer to read it without a sugar-hyped toddler yelling anywhere near him.

Ordinarily, he could have read something like that from a fair distance away, but right now he feels like he can't make anything out without having his nose pressed against it.

Ray jumps a little at the voice but by the time he's turned around, there's a smile on his face.

"Heeeey." The relief he feels is matched only by Celia's excitement and not for the first time today Ray regrets the second bowl of ice-cream he let her have. He can practically hear Asher already, telling him it's his problem to handle. Still, it doesn't stop him from trying to palm the twins off on him.

"We got ourselves a city break. You take the kids," he says, finally letting Celia go to her father after she's nearly tugged his arm off, "and I'll book us a penthouse suite."

"Someone's overly confident and barking up the wrong tree," Asher says. And at the worst possible time, too. He sidesteps the little girl as she barrels towards his legs, sending the man a warning look. "Don't you have leashes for those?"

"I seem to remember suggesting that once myself," Ray humours before his expression falls with exasperation when Celia folds her arms across her chest. She gives her father the same look Ray's currently on the receiving end of and stomps her way back between the two men.

By picking up Daniel onto his hip with a suppressed groan, Ray figures he has a better chance of arguing that he's got his hands full already. Not that he doesn't love Celia... He just doesn't like her sometimes. Much like her dad. "Just take her, please. It's been hours. I could've done without the scenery change today."

"Do I look like a fucking babysitter? If you didn't want to do the time then maybe you should have considered pulling out sooner." Asher rolls his eyes, rounding the nose on legs as he fusses over the male of the toddler duo. The female is easy to ignore. That kind of behavior only works on him when it's coming from Danica.

"Darrow," he reads. "Great..." Now the place has a name, but he still has no fucking clue what's going on.

Brow furrowing and gaze following Asher, Ray clears his throat loudly. "Uh, these are your mistakes," he points out, before covering one of Daniel's ears with his hand to shield him from any more of his father's foul language. "That means you should pick up the slack. Trust me on this."

As an afterthought, he turns his attention to the boy, uncovering his ear long enough to add, "Mistake means happy accident."

"No, mistake just means accident," Asher tells the boy, glancing around. "And I think you need a vagina and at least a brief history with a man before you can get away with claiming you've had their child." In this instance, all this guy had was a whole lot of crazy.

Before that lunacy has a chance to catch, Asher turns on his heels and moves away. There's an information booth according to the otherwise useless information on the wall. If he threatens the right person for the right period of time, he's sure to find some answers.

"Asher!" Ray calls after him, wrangling Celia's hand from under her armpit and taking a tight grip as he all but drags her along to keep up. Sure, sometimes Ray loves to pretend he doesn't have any step-parental responsibilities but he doesn't think that luxury extends to the biological parents as well. Until they spot Del, that only leaves Asher. "Where the hell are you going? You wanna be a jackass, pick your moments better, will ya?"

He stops in his tracks instantly, brow creased and eyes narrow as he turns to once again face the man. "How the fuck do you know my name?" he demands, tongue pressing to the back of a fang. Maybe he was the right person all along. It was too bad about the extra baggage.

As soon as the question is out, Ray knows. He's been there himself, without memory or understanding, but he doesn't remember choosing such an inconvenient time to forget everything.

"Are you kidding me?" He asks, tipping his head back with a groan. When imploring the Heavens doesn't have the desired effect, he lets out an aggravated growl at the back of his throat. "This place is unbelievable." Moving closer, he looks Asher dead in the eye, holding his gaze in an attempt to convince him of his next words. "Your name is Asher Talos. You have amnesia. Too bad you didn't forget how to be a jerk and stop swearing in front of your kids, for God's sake."

"I know my name. The question was how do you," he repeats, patience that's already spread too thinly at the risk of drying out completely. "I don't have amnesia. I know who I am, I just don't know how I got here."

He isn't even going to acknowledge the comment about the children. There's no point in it.

"Magic?" Ray offers unhelpfully, giving Asher a sheepish look. "Listen, you and me, we got history. Must be, what, nearly five years since we met. Ten minutes ago we were all, all four of us, on a tropical island in the middle of--know what, that's not important."

Taking another step forward, he awkwardly offers out his left hand, trying to hold up Daniel at the same time. "I'm Ray." He feels like he's taking a pin to the bottom of Asher's foot right now but he has to try. The sooner the spell ends, the better, and if true love - or whatever - can break it, bring it on. So with a deep breath and a still-steady gaze, he adds: "Your eyes are blue."

"Like fuck we were. Unless the Iraqi desert is your idea of a tropical island getaway for you and the family, I definitely wasn't part of your travel party." But by the sounds of it, this guy does seem like he's as lost as Asher is.

He looks down at the offered hand, brow arched and face screwed up in disgust. "Crazy and colorblind. It's been fun."

Information booth it is, then, because Ray is officially useless.

Given the island's chaotic temperament, sometimes it's hard to remember last week, let alone two years ago, but Ray still racks his brain for anything useful from when the shoe was on the other foot.

All he really recalls is Asher complaining about the mess.

"Wait, wait, wait," Ray insists, reluctantly figuring he's going to have to make it up as he goes along. "I know your sister, Danica. She's bound to be around here somewhere."

The only reason Ray is spared any kind of physical attack is down to the pair of parasites he has with him, but Asher's not sure how long that will hold true if the other man keeps talking.

"If that's the case, I'll find her," he says through clenched teeth, turning to go once again. If Ray has any kind of common sense, he'll stay put.

Ray does stay put but his voice travels far.

"Asher. Asher! You can't just leave me here with..." Holding Celia back is like trying to keep a rottweiler on a leash, so eager she is to follow her father. He can hear Daniel reciting the alphabet to himself, though there's concern visibly etched in his face when Ray looks at him, like he knows something Ray doesn't.

"Penthouse suite for three then," he sighs, right before it feels like his arm gets yanked from its shoulder socket. Like father, like daughter.