dedicated to shiloah, for being such a great friend to me as well as being another person who has yet to apply for scholarships. cheers, love, maybe we'll actually start applying sometime soon
* * *
Halfway down the stairs, I nearly ran into Alec. The headache pounding in my head made it hard for me to see clearly and there was a slight sensation of vertigo with every step I took. I probably would've pushed us both down the stairs if Alec hadn't gripped my arms and stopped me in my tracks.
"Whoa, Finch," he cautioned as I rocked back and forth on my heels. "What's going on? Did she hurt you?"
"How do you know it's a her?" I asked, my fingers massaging my temple.
"I can hear the high frequency of that shut-the-hell-up voice of hers," he answered. "Seriously, you look like you're about to pass out. Do you need to lie down?"
"We need to get to Professor Fell," I refused, shaking my head. The fires were still burning in my mind, and I needed to be able to describe what I saw with accuracy to Professor Fell.
Alec gave me a long look before he nodded and together, we descended the stairs. We set off towards the history corridor, taking a little longer than usual since I had to stop every now and then thanks to the pain in my cranium. We managed to arrive just as Professor Fell was exiting his lecture hall.
"Finches," he greeted coolly, his sharp green eyes moving between the two of us with casual interest. "Am I going to be wrongly accused of something again?"
"Yeah," Alec spoke up. "Why are you not bumping my percentage up to ninety percent when I have an eighty-nine point six?"
"Do your presentation," shrugged Professor Fell.
"The first half of hers was from Mean Girls!" Alec protested. "And then she spent fifteen minutes ranting on about Zachariah Cross and their parallel situations that was boring enough to make me go to sleep."
"You most definitely were not asleep, Mr. I-Like-To-Make-Snide-Comments," I shot.
"I'm pretty sure neither of you came here to complain about your grades because Rivers, if you actually cared, you'd stay awake in class for once."
Alec opened his mouth, probably to list the five times he had been awake but I cut him off with a punch on the arm. He scowled at me, but I ignored him and turned to my professor.
"I have a question about my amnesia," I said. Professor Fell cocked a brow
"I'm not a doctor anymore," he reminded me. "You'd be better off going to the hospital."
"Just because you're not exercising your medical license doesn't mean you lost all that medical knowledge," I countered. "So how does one get their memory back?"
Professor Fell made a face at my logic (you can't fight Sparrow logic), but with a resigned sigh, he answered. "Since yours is selective amnesia--or something similar to dissociative amnesia--you can go to a psychotherapist to help bridge the gaps in your memories. I can't guarantee that your memories will come back--it's never a certainty with amnesia. Psychotherapy might not even prove to be helpful since it's been years since the incident."
"But it's possible?"
He nodded. "It's a start."
I turned to Alec. "Great. Darkwood, be my psychotherapist."
"No," he refused. "Not unless I'm getting paid."
"You're already living in my house, what more do you want?"
"Technically, it's Elijah's house."
"Elijah is my cousin."
"If I can pry, Your Highness," Professor Fell interrupted, his dialect switching over to Cimerian, "did you experience something that made you so curious? You didn't seem quite so eager a few weeks ago."
I paused for a moment, debating on whether or not I should tell him the whole truth. Would I have to be hospitalized? What if I was sent back to Cimeria?
"I had a flashback," I admitted after a few minutes. "Just a few moments ago, actually." This wasn't a puzzle I could figure out on my own. This was something that required help from people like him.
Professor Fell slipped one of his hands into the pockets of his slim black slacks, his brows scrunched together for a few seconds before he looked up. "Triggers aren't all that common with amnesia, but perhaps in your case, maybe something you heard or saw triggered part of the block in your mind to crumble."
"What did you see?" Alec inquired.
I closed my eyes, and a square room filled my vision, flames licking up the sides of the walls. I couldn't identify anyone's faces except for one--Archer, with his dark eyes brimming with anger and fear before everything was engulfed in scarlet.
"Fire. The cabin was burning," I answered.
"Were you thinking about setting Logan or Sophia on fire? Maybe that was the trigger." Alec's lips turned upside into a smirk. "You are quite violent."
"No, I was thinking about setting your hair on fire," I retorted. "But I figured it was a bad idea. You'd look even uglier if you were bald."
"Time!" Professor Fell exclaimed, snapping his fingers and reverting our attention back to him.
"In most cases, patients with dissociative amnesia have their memories return to them over the course of time, so perhaps the hour has come for you."
"The hour came pretty late," muttered Alec.
"Isn't there any other way besides waiting?" I pressed.
Professor Fell shook his head. "I was preparing to be a neurosurgeon, Finch, not a psychotherapist. I read up on amnesia for the instances to I needed to, but I didn't have an extensive study on the different branches of memory loss. Look, if you want my honest advice, focus on your future. The accident happened practically a whole decade ago. You have bigger problems on your hand than a small thing like that."
"Amnesia isn't a small thing," I argued and he chuckled.
"In a normal person's life, no, it's not. However, considering the fact that you're, well, you, it's insignificant as of the moment. Letting the past cloud your future is dangerous. There are enemies lurking the shadows of today and tomorrow, not yesterday."
With a polite nod of his head, Professor Fell walked away, but before he was about to turn the corner, he glanced back at me. "Give it time," he advised. "Some things can't be forced."
He then disappeared from our sight, the sound of his shoes padding against the corridor halls fading with the growing distance.
"I can see why Frederick Fell disowned him," Alec commented.
"Is that an insult or a compliment?" I asked.
"The first and last compliment I will ever give a Fell," Alec said, a look of disdain crossing his face at the mention of the clan. "Can you imagine how much it would suck if he hated us the same way the rest of his family does?"
"It would be a whole new level of hell," I agreed as we began to leave the corridor. My mind strayed back to my confrontation with Sophia. I had never known of her until now. Six had only ever referred to her as 'his sister' with a proud grin and tone. She wasn't a noble, so she couldn't possibly have anything to do with the accident.
So why did her words trigger that flashback?
* * *
I took Xavier Fell's advice and for the next three days, I avoided any contact with Sophia. She somehow triggered the memory of the incident to return, and if I were to move on from the past, I needed to steer clear of her.
It was most definitely a task I did not dread.
My phone chirped as I entered the living room. Game of Thrones was playing on the TV and Alec was lounging on the sofa, munching on the kettlecorn Elijah had recently bought. Logan sat in the armchair, scribbling on a yellow sticky note before flipping the page in his textbook.
"The new mall just opened," I announced after reading James Mayfield's text. "We are cordially invited to attend the opening with Logan's back-up dancers."
"My what?" Logan spoke up, looking over to me with an expression of outrage.
"Isn't that the mall all the way across town?" Elijah questioned as he entered the room, a glass of orange juice in his hand.
"Excuse you, I am trying to watch something very important," Alec piped up, throwing a piece of popcorn at my head.
"Can I go?" I asked. Elijah frowned at me.
"It's like a thirty minute drive there," he pointed out. "You can't go, it's too far."
I gave my cousin a flat look. "Cross Academy is nearly an hour out of town, yet I'm still forced to attend its classes."
"That's because you have Logan with you."
"Logan hasn't been protecting me for all these years, Elijah, come up with a better reason."
Elijah crossed his arms, almost spilling the orange juice on accident. "Remember the last time you went on a trip out of town? Your identity was exposed."
"He's got a point, Park," Logan chimed in.
On a normal day, I would've just agreed to stay home and do something casual. Like save all of China. I was tired, though, of being cooped up in the house watching reruns of TV shows that I'd already marathoned five times before. An afternoon with the Unholy Trinity sounded like a good dose of normality that I was craving.
"It's just for a few hours. Plus, there's a cheesecake bakery at this mall. I'll bring some back for you."
Elijah bit his lips, the offer of his favorite dessert seeming to weaken his conviction.
"Elijah," Logan spoke up in a warning tone, "don't give in."
"Logan, you're going with me, why are you so worried?" I grumbled.
"I'm not worried, I just don't want to go anywhere. I have a history assignment to finish."
"Nerd."
Both Alec and I had said the word at the same time, causing Logan to deliver the most frustrated eyeroll of the century.
Elijah gave a heavy sigh. "Fine, you can go." He took a swig of his orange juice. "But," he continued, "if you are harmed in anyway, I will ship you back to Cimeria in a box."
Logan groaned in his seat, earning himself a loud shush from Alec while I gave a whoop of success. Immediately, I skipped into the kitchen, grabbing Logan's keys off the island counter.
"Dibs on the radio station," Logan called out. Alec shushed him again.
* * *
"Give me your phone," James demanded immediately when we came to a stop before the Unholy Trinity. Logan frowned and stuffed his hands into the pockets of his jeans.
"Did you lose your phone or something?" Logan asked, pulling out the electronic device. James snagged it out of Logan's hands.
"No, I just can't risk you accidentally letting the she-demon know where we are," James answered as he slipped the device into his pockets. Logan made an irritated noise and demanded his property be returned to him.
"Remember the last time I spent longer than an hour with her?" James said, sharpening his cerulean eyes. "Plus, I don't think your girlfriend would appreciate the unnecessary company."
Logan seemed confused at the latter statement until he scowled. "We're not dating," he snapped, glancing over at me for a split second before surging forward to tickle James. In a matter of seconds, Logan had his phone back.
"Say one more stupid comment and I'll tell your mother what exactly you and Kendra are studying in your little anatomy sessions," he threatened.
This comment sparked a feud between the two boys as the rest of the group continued down the mall. It was a four-story building with limestone flooring and white walls that reflected the golden lights stationed above every department. Pop music played as background noise to the overwhelming chatter of the crowd. There were girls with five different bags on each arm and husbands lounging in leather couches. We passed by a large fountain, which contained a metal contraption sculpted of some abstract modern design, lit at the bottom by turquoise and gold lights that bounced off the clear water. There were kids walking on the edge of the fountain while their parents snacked on food obviously bought from the enormous food court by the fountain.
"I know we're not good friends," Josh said to me, "so I'm sorry you had to come along. It's just that we haven't hung out with Logan for a while, and he can only come along if you're going."
I felt a stab of guilt. Being a bodyguard seemed like such a dull job. You were unable to enjoy your own life because you were too busy guarding someone else's existence. I looked straight ahead, watching as Logan threw his head back as he laughed at something James said.
I wonder if he ever regrets choosing this job, I thought.
"It's okay," I said softly. "You guys aren't that bad."
Josh beamed at me. "I think it's great that we're all hanging out. It's a chance for us to fix everything between us since, you know, we didn't have that great of a start."
I raised a brow at him. "Are you referring to all those years you bullied me, Jordan?"
His face fell. "It's Josh."
"No way, I thought it was Jericho?"
Even Mark joined in on the laughter as Josh muttered bitterly about his name. I threw my arm around him and ruffled his hair.
"Look, we all did terrible things to each other. It'll take a while, but sure, let's try and be friends," I offered, shooting a smile at Mark and Josh. The two of them returned my grin, and in my head, I laughed. Who would've thought that one day I would be suggesting a friendship between the Unholy Trinity and me?
I looked to Logan. He only ever spent time with his friends when I was with them. I would sacrifice my hours if it meant Logan could spend more time with these boys. That meant several more get-togethers and hey, these things would be much more enjoyable if I was one step closer to being friends with the boys rather than an enemy.
Despite Alec's insistence that we all go get food first, the rest of the boys dragged us into one of the department stores that sold suits and tuxedos for formal occasions. Here, I found out that the reason why the Unholy Trinity had come to the mall was because Mark's mother, a member of the House of Representatives, was throwing a congratulatory party for Mark's older sister, who had made her name in the world of politics.
Josh and Mark had started arguing over the material of one certain Italian suit and whether or not it was "politician-worthy." Alec and Logan were examining the Cimerian-produced attires. Since I didn't want to watch Alec pucker his lips at Logan and me, I stood with James as he browsed through the tuxedo coats, an expression of disdain as his fingers brushed against the surface of the jackets.
"Sophia's been complaining about you the last few days," he informed me. "Something about how you were trying to kiss Logan."
"Why am I not surprised?" I murmured.
"Believe it or not, she was worse when she was younger," James laughed as his fingers lingered on an all-black jacket, his fingers rubbing the material together before he moved on.
"You've met her before," I stated.
"The summer of our second year at the academy," James answered. "Her parents were on a cruise or something, and her brother couldn't take care of her, so Sophia spent the summer with Logan's family. I had this cousin I hated because he was a spoiled little devil, but when I met Sophia, I thought my cousin was a damn angel."
"Why, did she call you ugly?" I snorted, knowing how easily James' feathers got ruffled when someone insulted him.
"No." James made a face at me. "All she did was compete with me to get Logan's attention. I spent a day with her and after that, I made sure not to go anywhere near Logan for the rest of that summer."
"It doesn't sound like much has changed," I mused, imagining Sophia Misser in a tinier form, complete with her scowl and blonde ringlets. The next thing I knew, my hand clutched the side of my head as I winced in response to the pain shooting through my brain.
James eyed me with concern. "It's nothing," I brushed off, dropping my arm. "I've just been getting headaches lately. You were saying?"
"I know you don't think she could get any worse, but you didn't meet prepubescent Sophia. Logan told me that summer that he had to make her be a better person. He was the only person she'd listen to besides her brother, apparently, so it was up to him to make her less of a little brat for whatever reason. I would say it didn't work--I still can't stand her, but she's actually less rude than she was when she was little."
I tried to picture an image of Sophia again, but for some reason, the agony in my head only became more excruciating. There were alarms sounding in my mind. Warning, warning--do not press subject any further.
Then, I couldn't see straight for a second. I wasn't standing with James in front of a collection of Armani suits anymore. I was looking at a young girl, no older than five, with perfect curls pulled up into a springy ponytail. Her eyes were the exact same color as...
My fingers found themselves linked with someone else's and when my eyes snapped open, I was being pulled out of the store, the heavy scent of spicy cologne vanishing as Logan hurried us through the mall.
"Logan," I asked, my eyes darting around for any visible threat, "what's going on?"
He didn't answer, but his jaw clenched and his hand grew tighter around mine as we wound our way past the crowds. In a few minutes, Alec appeared at my side, growling at people to move when they bumped into him. I felt him press a cold object into the palm of my free hand. I realized it was his phone and saw that it was open to a message that sent a chill up the base of my neck.
Give my love to the princess. The red wig looks absolutely stunning on her.
Before I could ask how the hell they got ahold of Alec's number, static crackled throughout the mall, and all the music was cut off, leaving an uncomfortable silence before a voice coughed into the intercom.
"I'm dedicating this to the princess in the crowd, the scarlet gem of the generation. I know our differences are killing us, but I want you to know that I'll always be around, waiting for the right moment."
With an audible click, the intercom was off and there was that stiff silence again until Lady Gaga's tune began playing throughout the space. With a few mutters here and there, everyone returned to their routine.
We couldn't run--that would just cause attention. Our pace could only pick up a tad bit as we hurried to the nearest exit. With a quick look behind me, I saw that James was ushering along Josh and Mark, who shared equal looks of bemusement.
Logan was the first to exit and once he saw that the coast was clear, he reached for my hand and lead me out into the fresh air.
We were on the crosswalk leading to the parking lot when a gunshot rang out in the air and Logan gave a painful cry before he collapsed to his feet. Alec yelled my name but I stayed rooted at Logan's side as someone approached us, leaving their hiding spot behind the large blue SUV.
"Make a wrong move and I'll shoot him again," the figure said. He was dressed in all black, with tinted shades covering the top half of their face while a block cloth obscured the bottom half. The only thing I could discern from the figure was that whoever it was behind those shades was a man.
"It's just a flesh wound, princess," Logan said through shuddering breaths. "Run. I'll cover you."
"I can probably kick you over, Cross," I pointed out. "You think I'm going to leave you like this?"
"Stop talking!" the guy commanded. "Now, princess, you're going to come over here or your bodyguard will be the first to die."
Someone screamed from behind him and I watched as shoppers began sprinting away from the mall and clambering into their vehicles. Several cars managed to book it away from the vicinity.
There was no way he would've been able to make it out here before us, I thought. We had already been rather close to an exit. Not to mention that he knew which exit we had taken. Someone had to have monitored the interior of the mall. This was not a one man operation.
His partner--or partners--could be anywhere in the mall. Perhaps they were part of security. They could be on the roof with snipers aimed at any of us. They could be sitting in any of these cars, parked and ready for a quick getaway. James, Josh, and Mark were all in danger. Alec was at risk of exposure of his past.
I took a step forward.
"Park, no!" Logan seethed, and I moved right in front of his body as the gunman aimed at Logan's fallen body.
"Harm him and I don't care what will happen to me, I will end your life," I snarled. A few seconds passed, then the man changed his aim towards my head. Holding my chin up high, I held my hands up in a surrendering position as I slowly headed in his direction.
It was a matter of seconds before I was facing the boys, my hands behind my back as my captor twisted the skin of my arms. The gun was shoved against my temple.
"Tell the prince the if he wants his daughter back alive, he'll have a few conditions to agree to," the guy said.
"You won't kill her," Alec called out, his expression one of cold fury. "I was held captive by you. You're under orders to keep the princess alive."
"Held captive, huh?" The guy snickered, and in that short phrase, I heard an accent fall into the syllables of his words. He was Cimerian.
"I'm not part of the group that held you captive, Darkwood. If our terms aren't met, the princess here is dead."
I needed to move the gun. The placement of the barrel needed to be in a position where none of us would be shot on an accidental impulse.
"You've caused a scene," I said, my voice low. "This is most unlike you guys. What happened to the obscurity of your group? The ambushed kidnappings and ransoms and pathetic attempts on the throne?"
"You're speaking to the wrong person," he sneered. "We saw an opportunity to attack and we did. Your crown will be passed on over to us, Sparrow, or you'll be dropped to the bottom of the ocean to drown."
"Technically, if I were already at the bottom of the ocean, I would've drowned already. You drop me in the ocean to drown, not at the bottom. At the bottom means I've been dead for quite some time. Unless you're going to tie me to anchor. That makes more sense, but that's just a hassle, isn't it?"
The gun slammed across the side of my head. "Shut up, you smart ass," he growled.
Mall security was now swarming out of the doors, but they stopped, seeming unable to interfere without costing a life. I saw one officer say something into the black device he held to his mouth.
No, the police wouldn't be able to get here fast enough. Action needed to be taken.
"Touch her," Logan said, getting to his feet and my heart sped up at the sight of blood gushing from his jeans, "and I will bring you and everything you stand for burning to the ground."
I felt the chest of my captor rumble as he guffawed at Logan's threat. He took a step back, preparing to run.
At that moment, I leaned forward and with that momentum, I shoved my body backwards into his chest, forcing him to stumble. The element of surprise loosened his grip on my arms and I wrenched them out of his hands before using both my elbows to jam into his ribs.
I spun on the heels of my boots in order to get the gun out of his control, but I could only successfully pull down the sleeve of his jacket. Black ink was etched onto his forearm, with sharp angles jutting and out of the odd vine design wrapping around his flesh.
My fingers managed to brush the bottom of the gun. However, he brought the barrel of the weapon down on top of my head before throwing me aside. A sickening crack could be heard as my head slammed against the window of a car, and a startling bang pierced the air before darkness bled into my vision and I lost all consciousness.
* * *
i'm so very terribly sorry. (1) school has been literally kicking my ass and i've gotten less than five hours of sleep every single day. (2) this chapter was ridiculously hard to write for some reason LIKE I TRIED GUYS I TRIED BUT FOR SOME REASON IT TOOK SO LONG FOR ME TO WRITE THIS SHITTY CHAPTER
-all of you who voiced concerns for my well-being, you're very sweet guys, and i'm okay. i'm alive (for now).
-all of you asking for the original to be reposted, the answer for now is: no. see, the thing is, if i repost it, people would tend to read the complete version because people like completed stuff, and then that means this version is neglected and then i have to deal with more comments telling me that the original was better and i'm not up for that.
hopefully, my teachers will start realizing that they need to stop assigning fifteen different essays every night and i'll have some time to focus on ipy. till then;
ciao for now -- knee