Reaper always said he didn't remember how he and Heat first met, because it sounded more romantic that way, as if they had always been together. For better or for worse, that wasn't true. He remembered it full well, with unusual clarity for such an early recollection. He had been five, and his mother had brought him to an unfamiliar home. A large man, whom he would later know as Uncle Torch, tried in vain to coax him out from behind his mother's legs, before eventually giving up and talking to her instead.
He was left to wait in the playroom while his mother talked with the man. He sat perched gingerly on a beanbag for a while, half hoping she would come back. Only when it became apparent that she was going to be gone a while did he creep from his chair to the neatly packed bins of toys lining the opposite wall. He popped open the red plastic lid on one of the bins and peered down inside.
