"Jeremy?!"
I dropped my head and covered my eyes with my hands, mumbling to myself. "I'm hallucinating. That's it. That has to be it. Because Jeremy's dead. He died on live T.V.." I gingerly removed my hands, then slapped them back into place. "I'm hallucinating." I hate this place.
The hallucination sighed. "Agent 5, you're not hallucinating."
I jerked my head up. He knew my name. Standing up, I narrowed my eyes. "Look here, hallucination-that-looks-like-Jeremy. I am having a really bad day. First, I am stuck in this psychological hell, and now my friend, who I thought was killed, is standing in front of me?"
He blinked. "I'm your friend?"
My shoulders drooped. "I think he was." I tapped my fingers against my thigh as I pondered. "He didn't judge me, you know? He accepted the fact that I was different and rolled with it."
The hallucination groaned. "Agent 5, I'm not dead! I'm standing right here, talking to you!"
I crossed my arms over my chest, narrowing my eyes. "But I saw you die."
He ran a hand through his hair. "I was 'killed,'" he curled his fingers in to emphasize the word killed, "because my directors wanted to get a leg up on the scientists, you know, make them believe that they were in the lead because they had successfully killed someone close to you."
I tilted my head. "But if they think they killed you, then why didn't the person they sent actually kill you?"
"An agent intercepted them, and took their place to "kill" me." He sat down on a bed similar to the one I had in my own cell.
I nodded my head slowly. "Okay..." A smile crept onto my face. "Welcome back from the dead, Jeremy."
Jeremy chuckled and laid down on his bed, resting his hands under his head. "It's good to be back."
And then it hit me. You know that noise that comes when the D.J. turns the disc the other way? That was what would have sounded if my life were a movie. But it's not, so I just had to imagine it in my head. "Wait, why are you down in detainment?"
Jeremy raised his brows, looking at me incredulously. "Your supposed to be the smart one." At my glare, he sighed. "They don't want any of the other agents to see me. Loose lips, and all that." He waved his hand in the air.
"Sure," I leaned against the wall, crossing my ankles. "Gotcha." My eyes widened as another thought popped into my head. "Wait, what about your-"
The door to the entrance of the detainment room clanged open, and I pushed myself off of the wall, snapping my gaze to the door. Across from me, Jeremy did the same. He just didn't take up a defensive stance.
Footsteps could be heard slapping against the concrete, and Lydia's face appeared. I relaxed from my position, slumping in relief. Maybe I was finally getting out of here.
Lydia's gaze went straight to me, and she brought her hand to her mouth in horror. "There you are! I can't believe they put you in here. Jake wouldn't tell me where Mia placed you, and neither would Mia. Hang on, and I'll get you out of there." Approaching the door, she typed a quick password in, and placed her fingerprint on the panel. A green light flared, and the door unlocked, revealing my freedom.
I hurriedly walked out, wanting to be far away from that room. Following Lydia back into the locker room, I turned to Jeremy. "Bye, Jeremy. I'll visit soon, okay?"
Surprise lit up his features, but he nodded. "Okay. And Agent 5," I faced him fully, "thank you."
What he was thanking my for, I had no idea, but I accepted it anything. "No problem, Jeremy." I was about to walk into the locker room, when I whipped back around again, a smile playing on my lips. "And call me Ben."
His eyebrows shot up, and he dipped his head. "So be it, madame." I laughed at his formality, and rolled my eyes, finally walking to where Lydia was waiting with my things.
After painstakingly putting everything back where it belonged, including all my assortment of knives, I was ready to go. We had almost reached the final door when I caught Lydia's elbow, and she turned to me in surprise.
Narrowing my gaze warily at her, I questioned, "Where are you taking me?"
Lydia grimaced, running her gaze over me. "Well, first to a guest room so you can take a shower and get cleaned up. Your bag is also in there, waiting for you. Also, a spare suit." She looked at the door that we where about to go through, then back at me. "After- don't freak out- a council meeting."
I drew back. "With who?" A council meeting? I did not like the sound of that at all, even though it was necessary.
"Well, the six of us, for starters. It'll be just like old times." At my blank look, she hurried on, "And Mia."
"No." My response was immediate. "I will not go to a meeting with her there."
Lydia's brow furrowed in confusion. "Why not?"
Now it was my turn to look away. "I don't know... I just don't trust her." At her look, I quickly defended myself, "I have my reasons, believe me."
After studying me for a few moments, Lydia slowly nodded her head. "Okay, I'll see what I can do." A beat of silence passed before she continued. "You've changed, Ben."
I raised an eyebrow, ready to be out of this place. "Haven't we all?"
She shook her head, ash-blonde ponytail swinging. "No, well yes, but not like you." Her gaze softened. "I know about the wings, Ben. We all do."
I stiffened. "Okay." I waited for the judgement, the looks that came with the knowledge of finding out that someone was different. It would come. It always did. Always. But her next words were not what I was expecting.
"I... I just wonder what else they did to know that we should know about." She words came out as an unanswered question, and I looked away again, not bothering to look back up till I heard the click of the door open, and the sounds of the agency flood into my ears.
What else did they do? My gaze turned as cold as the concrete below me. What didn't they do?
---
Lydia left me alone after showing me to my room. She hadn't tried to talk to me again, and for that I was thankful.
Dropping all my weapons next to my bag and the new suit that was on the bed, I walked over to the modest bathroom and unchanged, taking a nice hot shower. Massaging shampoo into my scalp, I let my thoughts wander.
Why didn't everyone want to know everything about a person? Why couldn't they just let them be? I understand my old teammates wanting to reconnect and all, but there were some things that I couldn't share. Wouldn't, share. It was just too hard.
"Running away from your problems isn't going to solve everything, Ben." I huffed out a laugh. Of course mom's words of wisdom would come to be now.
"I know, mom." I sighed, thumping my head against the wall. I seemed to be doing a lot of that lately. "I just wish you were here."
Rinsing my hair and turning off the water, I dried off before changing into the clothes that Lydia had given me. Re-tying my boots, I shook my wet hair, hand combing it into a quick braid before beginning the long process of putting my weapons in place, handling them for the third time that day.
"Hopefully this won't become a habit," I muttered, putting the last knife in place.
Checking the clock on the nightstand, I realized I had five minutes before Lydia would come and collect, yes, collect, me, and walked over to the window at the far side of them room.
They must've really trusted me, if they gave a person with wings a room with a window. But after several tries, I found I couldn't open it. Okay, ouch. And it was bulletproof.
So trust issues aside, at least the view was enjoyable. I had discovered that I had been in the detainment room, slowly losing my mind, for three days, and it was currently March 19, at 6:18 P.M.. It was strange that just two weeks ago, life was normal, and I was ready to take on a new mission with three people from another agency.
A knock sounded on my door, and I whirled around, hand reaching reflexively for the gun at my side. Closing my eyes, I breathed in and out a couple times, before composing myself and heading towards the door. Opening it, I reigned back my shock.
"Hey, Tom." I gave him a half smile that quickly morphed into a frown as tears seeped out of the corners of his eyes. "Whoa, whoa, whoa. Hey, come in here and sit down. What's wrong?" I wasn't going to ask if he was okay, because he obviously wasn't.
Tom ran both his hand through his blonde hair, glassy brown eyes meeting mine. "J.. Jeremy's dea... dead." His voice broke on the last word, and my heart burst for him as his face crumpled. "And it's my fault. It's all my fault."
No one knew that Jeremy was alive except the directors and me. "It's not your fault, Tom." I held his face in my hands as he shook his head. "Hey. Stop that. It's not. And I'm older, so I'm always right." A small smile silently appeared, but disappeared as quickly as it had come.
"But it is," he whispered. I placed my hand over his mouth, preventing him from speaking any further.
"If it's anyone's fault, it's mine, Tom. Not yours. So do not, and I repeat, do not, take the blame. We are going to give those... motherless goats what they deserve. You and me, Tom. We are going to get justice for Tom. But I can't do it without you. I need your help, Tom. All of it." I stood up from where I was sitting next to him on the bed, and held out a hand. "So what do you say?"
Tom slowly looked up at me, tentatively reaching out a hand to shake mine. I laughed, and he looked at me, confused. "I was going to offer you a hand up, but I'll take a shake, I guess."
"Oh," Tom sheepishly smiled, and grasped my hand, allowing me to pull him up. "Thanks."
At his still downtrodden look, I spoke again. "I know the guilt's never going to go away, Tom. Trust me. I know. Just take one day at a time with me, okay?"
He nodded slowly, his hair covering his expression. Then a small smile flashed across his face. "Motherless goats?"
I laughed, nudging his shoulder. "Hey, I learn from the best." At that he joined in my laughter.
"Oh we've better get going or you'll be late." A glance at the clock revealed that I was already two minutes late.
"Ah, yes." I rolled my eyes. "Can't keep the big shots waiting, now can we?"
Tom chuckled, but quickly covered it with a cough as other agents passed us in the hallway that led to the conference room.
Stopping outside the doors, Tom squeezed my arm gently. "Don't let them get to you."
I was about to protest, but he just gave me a look before opening the door and shoving me inside.
The support just kills me. Really.
Correcting my stumbling steps, I looked up to see the others already assembled and staring at me. I shot a grateful glance at Lydia once I noticed that Mia wasn't present, which she returned with a nod and a wink.
Sitting down at the isolated chair at the head of the table, the only chair unoccupied, I avoided the burning heat of Jake's gaze and instead looked to my brother, sitting directly to my right.
"Why was this meeting called?" I spoke quietly, but not weakly. I had to show that I was still strong in spirit, if not at least all there in mind.
Max cleared his throat, glancing quickly at Jake. A stab of anger surged through me. "Max." I spoke firmly, and his gaze returned to me. "I asked you a question. You do not have to look to him for an answer."
"Right." Max's face tinged pink, before he remembered my question, and it blanched. I immediately curled my hands into fists, my fingernails digging into the hard skin of my callused palms. The hairs on the back of my neck prickled. Something was wrong.
"We received this at the front door this morning. Meaning, it was found on the ground by an agent." He picked up a black folder and opened it to reveal a cream colored envelope, with 'Bentley Waters' written in cursive font. The faint scent of lavender hit my nose, and I jerked back in my seat, tipping it over and standing up, pointing a now shaking hand at the envelope that was in Max's outstretched hand.
"Do you know who that's from?" Jake was watching me carefully, as was the rest of them.
My wide eyes finally met his as my world crumbled around me for what seemed like the millionth time. "Do you not?" My words were breathless, no more than wisps in the air.
He frowned along with the rest of them, his red hair shifting with his movements. "Yes, we do not. It's addressed to you, after all."
My shaking fingers gripped the letter, my breath harsh in my ears. The room was silent as I whispered, "It's from them." I looked up, truly terrified. "The scientists."
Gasps and curses erupted, but I ignored them as I soaked in the words written on the paper.
We made you, and we can also break you.
How's your mother doing, Bentley?
Love, your family
The letter fluttered to the floor as I released it to stare into Jake's concerned eyes.
Everyone was looking at me expectantly.
But I couldn't take it.
I fled from the room.
I had to get to Mom.
Before they did.
Release.