Keeper of the Lost Cities: Unlocked: A Fan-fiction

Chapter Fifteen - Keefe/Sophie

Wow. That was all Keefe could think. Wow was right, on three levels.

Wow. What were all those crazy emotions Foster had been throwing at him? As an Empath, he should be able to read them, but there were too many, and too conflicted, for even him, with all his awesome power, to sort out.

Wow. Foster was a mess. Her eyes were rimmed with red, but the bags under them were dark and puffy. Her hair was frizzy and messed, and her tunic was wrinkled.

She was beautiful.

"Hey, Foster. Miss me?" he said.

And wow. All the conflicted emotions she was hurling at him were incredibly overwhelming. Why was she feeling so much hope and love and relief? And guilt and panic and anger? Keefe couldn't even grasp them all. They were so overpowering, they left him doubled over. Literally.

"Wow, Foster," he wheezed, clutching his stomach, and sincerely hoping no food would decide to come back up. "Are you okay? Cause, you don't feel okay. You feel very not okay, actually." He couldn't keep the pain out of his voice. Her emotions had never been so strong. Probably from him being out for so long. They were likely all catching up with him now. At once. All at once.

"Keefe," Sophie whispered. Then she screamed, jumping on the bed, and throwing her arms around him, squeezing him harder than he remembered ever being squeezed, tears pouring down her cheeks in buckets. "Keefe! Oh my gosh, Keefe! You're – it's – you're... – Keefe!"

Ah. These emotions were much better. Relief. Extreme joy. And... okay, most of the emotions were much better. The fury radiating off of her was not quite as fun. But he certainly didn't mind the hug.

"Hey, Foster," he said tentatively. "why are you crying?"

Her happy, bright, glowing face suddenly gave way to the anger she had unconsciously held back before, her eyes flashing as she pulled away from him and jabbed a finger into his chest, hard.

"Because of you, you jerk! How could you do this to me? Do you have any idea what I've been going through? I have been so worried! About you!"

He winced. He'd known this was coming when he chose to provide his friends an escape route, but it'd had to be done.

"I'm really, really sorry, Foster," he said softly. Just like that, her anger faded, replaced by an emotion he had never felt before – one he didn't know how to decipher.

"It's okay, Keefe," she whispered, hugging him tighter before seeming to remember their audience. She stepped away. "It's okay."

Keefe stared at her. "You're letting me off that easily?" he couldn't help asking incredulously.

To his amazement, she nodded. "I don't like that you did it, and I really wish you hadn't lied to me," Keefe winced. That had been the part he'd hated most about his plan. "but I understand why you did it. Your heart was in the right place." The last part was spoken in an undertone, as if to herself.

Keefe blinked. "Wow. Thanks, Foster. That... means a lot to me."

"Yes, well, I can assure you, you will not be getting off so easily with me," a snide, sharp voice said from the doorway. Keefe, looked up, and gulped. He was so dead.

***

The expression on Ro's face was disturbing to say the least, murderous to be realistic. But Sophie was too focused on the fact that Keefe was awake to dwell on such trivial matters. She couldn't believe it. They had been trying everything they could think of, and finally, something had helped. Keefe was awake. And she was so happy.