Bracing himself for a whole new level of vulnerability, Keefe showed them the memory of everyone celebrating after year two midterm exams. His mom was noticeably absent. His dad was there, but far from hugging him like other parents were doing with their kids, he had a tight—almost painfully tight—grip on Keefe's wrist as he tried to drag Keefe away.
Until Alden came to ask why they were leaving and ask Cassius to give Keefe a break after doing so incredibly well.
But when he invited them out to Everglen and Cassius refused, Alden reached out and took Keefe by the shoulder and told him how proud he was of him.
And this was the part present-day Keefe had hoped to avoid.
The way his head became an explosion of emotions after hearing Alden say that.
Oh wow, Foster thought. It felt overwhelming to her. That's how strong that rush of emotions had been.
Yeah, Keefe said. Even his mental voice was quiet. No one had ever told me that before, so...
And your dad felt it, since he had his hand wrapped around your wrist.
Pretty much. And you saw how happy he was about it.
Foster felt that cute sad/angry combo again.
Fitz's emotions were all over the place as he swore under his breath—calling Keefe's dad a very colorful name.
Keefe picked up on anger, sadness, compassion, love—he assumed that was Fitz's love for Alden for showing kindness to Keefe—regret, disbelief, concern and curiosity.
You okay over there, Fitzy? Your moods keep shifting on me.
I'm fine. I'm just...trying to understand why you never told me about any of this once we became best friends. You could've said something.
He could've. And he slowly, over time, did reveal more about his home life.
He'd trusted Fitz with that knowledge in a way he'd never done with anyone else until Foster came along.
I know, Keefe told him, fidgeting slightly. He could feel Fitz's disappointment that his best friend hadn't confided in him. The thing is...talking about it made it real. I didn't want it to be real. I wanted to pretend my life was as perfect as yours.
My life isn't perfect, Fitz argued.
Maybe not. But it's pretty close, dude. I mean, yeah, Alvar's a creep—but you still have your dad. And your mom. And Biana. And you're still the top of our class. And you're Foster's Cognate and...even without all of that, you're still a Vacker. You're always going to be the golden boy everyone expects greatness from. And I'll always be the mess.
Keefe felt Fitz's indignation, but Foster spoke up before he could.
You're not a mess. He could feel how much she meant it, and how much Fitz agreed.
And he loved them for it, but they were wrong.
Oh, I am, Foster. The more we do this, the more you'll see. And that's fine. I can't pretend everything's normal anymore. Too much has happened.
Then why still hide some of your memories? Fitz asked him.
Because those memories were irrelevant to the current situation.
No one needed to know he was ridiculously enamored with Foster, or the pain that caused him.
So he just snorted a humorless laugh. Because I'd actually like to keep you guys as friends.
He could feel Foster's confusion and her total conviction as she said, I'm always going to be your friend.
So am I, Fitz agreed.
You sure about that? Keefe asked, bringing up the first memory he got back. Foster had seen it, but Fitz hadn't, and wondered why it was so distorted. Keefe's assumption was that it got damaged by the Washer.
Fitz watched the memory of Alvar and Brant discussing their attempts to find Foster, and Gisela's declaration that she would push Keefe towards a friendship with Fitz.
So he could hopefully get useful information on the search for Foster.
So? Fitz asked. He didn't seem to care. It changed nothing for him. You think that's the only reason we're friends?
No--but I'm sure it was a big part of it.
Couldn't have been that big, since we didn't start really hanging out until years later, when we were both at Foxfire.
I guess.
Besides, Fitz added softly, my dad...kinda did the same thing. After those same midterms, he started asking me about you all the time, telling me I should invite you over. I figured he just wanted us to hang out since we were ranked one and two or whatever. But now I'm pretty sure he was worried about you, and wanted to give you somewhere else to go after school.
Huh, Keefe said, feeling a jumbled mix of emotions at that.
Emotions made all the more complicated given his most recent heart-to-heart with Alden, which had left him in considerable heartache.
The thing is, Foster piped in, it doesn't matter WHY we all became friends. Just that we did.
Exactly, Fitz agreed.
Yeah, I guess. Keefe cleared his throat, though he was really trying to clear his mind. But I gotta say--heartwarming as all of this is, it's nooooooot what I'm looking for. Where are the fancy Telepath tricks to dredge up all my mom's secrets? Do you guys need to stare into each other's eyes more or something?
Foster sighed. I told you--we have no idea how to trigger memories.
Then hit me with all the Fitzphie pizzazz and see what happens.
The Fitzphie pizzazz, Foster said, and even her mental voice sounded like she was rolling her eyes. There's no such thing.
Not with that attitude, there isn't!
I guess we could try probing, Fitz suggested.
Foster's emotions seemed to flinch away from that, and whatever her mind was seeing had Fitz cracking up.
No wonder you got so freaked out when we took you to Atlantis to have Quinlin try a probe on you.
It's a super weird word! she argued.
With you on that one, Foster, Keefe agreed, wondering exactly what the word had brought to her mind. I'm up for a Fitzphie probe-athon. Commence all the probing!
We have to stop calling it that.
Fitz thought it might work, but Foster told them she didn't know how to probe.
Fitz was incredibly shocked to hear this, and Keefe surmised that whatever probing entailed was a skill Foster should've learned by now. Sure enough, Fitz turned and started asking Tiergan about it, about why he hadn't taught her to do it.
Because Foster was incredible, that's why.
Apparently her mind just instinctively used a better method, so learning to probe had been unnecessary.
Probing was a way of pushing through mental blocking. Foster argued that Keefe wasn't blocking memories, but Tiergan explained that since Keefe's memories had been washed--a thought that made Keefe sick with anger every time he thought about it--probing might be useful. They would just have to use different words to see if his mind reacted.
The first word Fitz suggested was "Neverseen", but Foster wondered if it was too vague.
"The Neverseen are in tons of my memories," Keefe agreed. "But Washers aren't--and I'm betting there's a moment in all of my erased memories where my mom tells someone to call for one."
Cue the nausea again.
Worst. mother. ever.
She should've wanted to care for him, to protected him.
Instead she'd used him, manipulated him, and then violated the supposedly safe space of his mind by having those memories washed.
But Tiergan was nodding and agreeing that "Washer" could work.
"Of course it could--I'm a genius," Keefe said, trying to keep things light, despite how he was really feeling. "We ready to do this?"
And they tried.
And tried.
They transmitted WASHER over and over, but nothing happened, and Foster started to rub her temples.
She downplayed it to Tiergan, telling him she was running low on mental energy, but Keefe could feel that it was physical energy as well--and a headache.
And she convinced him to let her try enhancing, because Fitz could give her some mental energy.
Which bothered Keefe, a little, because it kind of reminded him of the way he could send her breezes. It was different, but similar in some ways, and it made him a little jealous.
He know it wouldn't bother him if Foster didn't like Fitz.
He actually thought the way they worked together was pretty cool, and they'd be able to do amazing things.
He just wanted them to do it as friends, nothing more.
But oh well. Right now, he needed to focus on the fact that they were going to try one more time, today, to access washed memories.
So when Fitz asked if Keefe was ready, Keefe immediately said, "so ready. Give me all the Fitzphie probing pizzazz!"
And Fitz pressed his palm against Foster's ungloved hand, and Keefe felt the slight mood shift between them as Fitz murmured, "I swear this gets stronger every time."
Ugh.
Keefe counted them down, and they once again transmitted WASHER!
And it carried far more authority this time, cutting deep.
Keefe could hardly describe it even to himself, but he knew one thing.
"I think we found something."