Cloak and Dagger

chapter fourteen

Seeing as it was mid-day, the halls were fairly empty. Everyone was likely out on assignment or throwing themselves into training – the paranoia and questions about the intrusion presumably still at the forefront of their minds. If Catherine continued to withhold the true reason for the alarm, there would no doubt be a stream of whispers throughout the halls in no time. People would draw their own conclusions based on farfetched assumptions, and knowing what I did, it almost seemed easier to be kept in the dark and tasked with the guess work.

With my mind whirling, I kept my head down and my steps purposeful as I made my way towards my room. It was the only place I felt like I could process what I'd learned without my thoughts and emotions going awry.

Shutting the door behind me minutes later, I let out a shaky breath.

No matter how small it'd been, there'd still been a part of me that had hoped my involvement in all of this was a fluke. That, despite the fact I was Catherine's daughter, the Gemini Clan had pulled my name up by accident. Now though, that hope was squashed. Damon, the leader of the Gemini Clan, was my father. He had intended to use me to bargain with S.I.C.O to obtain one of their original weapons.

The words, the facts, they replayed over and over again in my head, growing larger and more prominent with each second that passed. The rational part of my mind was telling me that Catherine had been sincere with her words – that her words had been true, but then there was the part of me that wanted to stay angry. And not just at the situation, but at everyone who'd been a part of bringing me to Division 27 in the first place. From Beckett to Catherine, Joe to Finn, all the agents that'd been assigned to protect me, and Kira, who'd betrayed my trust – all of them now stood as reasons why I couldn't go back to my old life.

Most of all however, my anger was directed towards the Gemini Clan. More specifically, towards their leader.

If Damon had never found out about me, I wouldn't be in this position. I wouldn't be learning to fight or going through training. I'd still be spending my days as a waitress at Crimson Oaks, saving up every penny so that I could build a future for myself. A future where I wouldn't have to think about the fact that my biological father had seen nothing wrong with the idea of using me as a bartering chip to get what he wanted.

Attempting to control myself as I felt anger pulsing through me, I stepped up to the window that overlooked the grounds. Though the sun was shining, there was no ignoring the strong gusts of wind that whistled against the glass, casting a parallel from the chaos inside my head. It was harsh, causing the trees to do a powerful dance as the leaves hung onto the branches for dear life. Their movement was what I focused on to calm my breathing, as crazy as it seemed, but the constant back and forth motion was rhythmic in a peculiar way.

The time passed quickly, and before long I could hear a slew of footsteps passing by my room. As I moved to sit at the top of my bed, each set of footsteps caused a rush of tension to flow through my veins, my thoughts momentarily put on hold as I worried that someone would knock on my door.

I didn't have the strength to deal with questions, much less the desire to hold a conversation with someone, and as the minutes ticked by and my door was left well enough alone, I began to slowly allow my body to relax into the comfort my bed offered. With the stress of the previous night hovering over my head, as well as the eventful day, I couldn't be bothered to leave the room to eat. My mind was shutting down, and just as the sun began to descend behind the trees outside, my eyes fluttered shut.

Occasionally throughout the night I jerked awake – my dreams a compilation of circumstances that would've had the ability to come to fruition if the attack against me on my birthday had been successful. The images that flashed through my head made for a less than peaceful night. Each time I awoke, I wavered in a state between awareness and slumber, and with exhaustion pumping through me, I had no willpower to fight against it before I fell back asleep.