dedicated to gravestones for the lovely banner displayed!
also, i know I already put this song in an earlier chapter, but it fits so perfectly to this chapter. i even put a reference to the song at the end, like, LISTEN TO IT PLEASE
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"Park, that's a really shitty reason."
"Well, I don't feel like explaining at the moment."
"I need more than an enigmatic 'trust me.'"
"Jasper," I said, making sure my tone didn't sound mysterious, "trust me."
My brother only gave me a sour look, but whatever his response was cut off abruptly by his severe coughing. He doubled over, shivering every time he took in a coarse breath. Immediately, I pulled him into my arms, hoping that whatever body heat I had left could be passed onto him.
"You smell like the bottom of the ocean," he mumbled into my shoulder.
"I know. It's almost like I swam through saltwater to get here."
"I hate to break up this cozy family session of yours," Darkwood drawled into my ear while he took a small step behind me, "but there's this really angry looking guy walking towards us.
Agents were now swarming the deck, shouting directions at each other as the moved about. As groups began to branch away from the mass heading on board, heading down below or expanding towards the corners of the deck, an agent emerged from the crowd and I tensed up.
Indeed, the agent looked quite angry. Okay, that's an understatement. A furious fire burned in his eyes as he strode across the deck, and I could almost feel the raging vibe rolling off of him from this distance. He had changed into all black, the standard field uniform, and in that moment, I felt as though the Grim Reaper had come to deliver my death.
Scratch that. The Grim Reaper probably looked friendlier than this.
"Jasper, I just want you to know that I love you very much, and when I die, you can have my extended edition of The Lord of the Rings movies."
"It's just Logan," Jasper scoffed as he leaned back, looking at me like I was insane.
Oh, it's just Logan. Silly me. I thought it was the king of hell.
A squad of agents trailed Logan, all of them holding their guns up as they casted dubious looks at Darkwood. I looked at Darkwood, mouthing, I'll take care of this, before redirecting my attention back to the trouble in front of us.
"Who's he?" Logan asked in a cold voice. He put his hands in his jeans as he cocked his head, his glare pointed at me as he awaited my answer.
"Alec," Jasper answered, though his voice was much more timid than when he spoke to me. Jasper shot me an alarmed look, and I could only mouth back, It's just Logan. Oh, Jasper. If only he knew there was no escape from the demon once it appeared.
"Oh, hey, look! It's Six!" Jasper cried all of a sudden, flashing us the most innocent smile in existence before scurrying away to safety.
Okay, I guess there was an escape. Though, would it count if you're running to another monster?
"Alec Darkwood," the boy next to me finished.
"I wasn't talking to you," Logan snapped, his eyes flashing. "You can speak when you're addressed."
"I'll speak if the conversation involves me," Darkwood snorted. "I don't need your permission to do anything, Mother."
Oy vey.
Logan's expression grew even stonier, and the atmosphere grew thick with an animosity that I could've sliced it with my nails. Darkwood and I grew still as Logan approached us slowly, his black boots thudding heavily against the wood.
"Back away from her," Logan said, his voice low and threatening.
Darkwood and I weren't to the point of being the best of pals, yet, but I figured the kid had a very rebellious streak in him for he pressed his arm against mine. "Make me," he challenged.
Great. Now I was stuck between two boys with pride and ego as great and high as Mt. Everest. Someone was going to throw a punch, and I really didn't think another fight was necessary.
"Ladies, ladies," I sighed, moving between them to place my hands on their chests and pushing them away from each other, "you're both very pretty."
"Shut up, Sparrow," the two of them snarled, sending me identical looks of annoyance. Since this whole alpha wolf glowering was something that clearly shouldn't be interrupted, I stepped backwards and threw my hands up in surrender.
"Alright, I guess I knew better than to interrupt a cat fight," I muttered, turning my back and hoping to escape. However, someone grabbed the back of my shirt and pulled me back.
"Take Jasper and Darkwood back to the ports on the jet skis. Jasper's wounds require medical attention, and Mister Darkwood here needs to be questioned," Logan ordered. Alarm spiked through me at the last sentence. Darkwood and I exchanged a quick look but an agent pulled him away before I could say anything.
"I think I should stay with Darkwood," I spoke up, but Logan blocked my way, allowing the agents to take off with Darkwood.
"A Darkwood?" Logan mused, giving me a skeptical glance. "Isn't he dead?"
"He's walking, he's talking, so clearly he's not dead," I said, keeping my tone light.
"You seem awfully concerned with him," he pushed, and that's when I noticed that the iciness had been dropped from his voice. Rather, he sounded...jealous?
But why would Logan be jealous? Maybe I'm just reading too much into things.
"He's gone through a traumatic experience," I explained. "Are you okay?"
His head jerked up, eyes widening a tiny fraction as he stared at me. "Am I okay?" he repeated. "Park, you should take a look at your own face."
On reflex, my hand came up to touch the cut on my face and found that it was wet with blood. "That's gross," I noted, wiping away the rusted scarlet onto my fingertips, staining them an ugly crimson that made me want to go take another bath in the ocean.
Logan only stared at me, his expression full of shock as though my reaction was unbelievable. His own hand came up, reaching towards me before he put it back down and headed towards the edge of the deck. I figured I was supposed to follow him, so I trailed his steps and watched as he climbed down one of the ladders fit himself onto a jet ski.
He glanced up at me and gestured for me to do the same. I climbed down and joined him on the vehicle, tentatively wrapping my arms around his waist. Logan revved the engine and we were speeding through the ocean. Salt water sprayed onto my face, seeping into my wound and I suppressed a cry.
In a few minutes, I was being hauled on board by an agent gripping my arms. Once I was on, a woman wrapped a grey towel around my shoulders and sat me down at the front of the boat before handing me a water bottle.
A while after she was gone, Logan showed up, plopping down beside me with a white towel in his hand. "Hold still," he said before taking my chin. He began dabbing the towel tenderly against my cheek, gently scraping off the blood. Once he was done cleaning my face, he held the towel against my cut, using just enough pressure to stop any more bleeding.
Logan finished cleaning my wound then settled into his seat, not speaking a word. By the time the boat pulled up to the port, the silence between us was deafening, and I was dying to say a word.
"Your Highness," the agent from before said as she arrived at the front of the boat again, "we've been instructed to bring the two of you back to the palace immediately."
"Give us a moment, Rena," Logan said. "I need to make sure she's alright."
Rena glanced at me, mouthing something that seemed like a wish of luck before she darted away.
Oh, gods. Here comes the wrath of the king of Cross of Academy.
"When I found out that you had run off, I was terrified," Logan began, his voice almost inaudible. "I didn't know what I would do with myself if you got hurt because I wasn't there to help you like I was supposed to be."
"I'm completely fine," I pointed out. "See?" I held my hands out and flashed a smile, but the look Logan gave me had the grin slipping off my lips.
"Did you even think about calling when you ran off?" he asked. "Did you stop to think about the panic you would put everyone through when you decided to play the hero? Do you even care what you put me through when I hear that the girl I'm supposed to protect isn't where she's supposed to be?"
"It was impulsive, but I had to do it," I argued. "You don't understand, Logan, but--"
"No, I understand perfectly well. You've got this mentality that you have to save everyone. You're convinced that you're responsible for everyone's problems, that somehow you can solve them. Ever since your brother disappeared, you're stuck in this mindset that you have to be the hero, and that seems to dull your realization that you're not as invincible as you make yourself out to be."
"That's not true!" I snapped. "Don't bring Archer into this discussion, Logan!"
"Then why do \you throw yourself into danger's way every chance you get? You practically ask for all the trouble in the world because you think you can handle it the way your brother did! You don't stop to think about what it could do to you because you're so damn afraid of not being as strong as Archer."
"That's right, I don't think," I snarled. The both of us were standing now, glaring daggers at one another and my hands were clenched, my nails digging into my palms as his words struck home. "I act. If it wasn't for me, Jasper wouldn't have been found. Or you guys might've located the place but he could've been long gone by then. I know what I'm doing, and I know the consequences of my actions. My brother isn't here to protect the people he cares about, so it's my responsibility to do it. Back off, Cross--since when did you care about my choices so much?"
"I'm your bodyguard!" he half-laughed, half-shouted, frustration evident in his tone. "It's my job!"
"Your job is to guard me from harm! That's what a bodyguard does, hence the word 'guard,'" I corrected. "Your job is to fight off the trouble. You're not my brother, you're not my father. It's not your job to shout at me afterwards and lecture me about what the hell I'm supposed to think! Tell me the truth, Logan," and I paused, the anger in my shouting draining my energy.
I didn't like this. I didn't enjoy fighting with Logan. A long time ago, this argument as heated as this would've brought me so much entertainment, but now something unsettling stirred in my chest, telling me that this was wrong.
"There's something you're not telling me," I pushed. I've disappeared before, you've never been this mad."
"Can you really not figure it out?" he asked, and there was a desperation clinging to his words, as though he was begging me to put the pieces together myself, without his help.
When I didn't answer, Logan gave a heavy sigh and ran his fingers through his hair, looking as though he was debating with himself over something.
"It's because I care too much, you idiot. It's because I don't want to see you get hurt. Because you getting hurt is the stuff of my nightmares, Park. I don't want to see anything happen to you--I can't let anything happen to you. I wouldn't be able to live with myself."
There was a short pause as Logan struggled to get his next words out. I anticipated his words with a sense of dread. The moment he said them would mean an end to our friendship.
"It's because I like you, Park. I care too much about you to let you get hurt, and yet you run off every chance you get."
He stared at me, a look of pain and sadness mixed in his eyes. I didn't know what my face was like. I couldn't understand what I was feel. My heart forgot how to beat properly--the pulse lacked the rhythmic pattern, its beat pacing unevenly behind my ribs as I tried to settle the fluttering sensation in my stomach.
"Look, I don't want an answer," Logan said, his words cracking at the end. "I just want you to understand. It sucks, Park. Understand how difficult it is when you like a girl who is constantly moments away a bullet to the heart, or a knife to the throat, but she won't let me do one single thing to protect her."
Tell him, the voice in my head urged. "Logan, I..."
My voice trailed off as I tried to figure out how to say what I needed to say.
"Don't," he cut me off. "I'm just asking you to start thinking about others for once." He turned away and soon, he was off the boat. Logan stayed right at the edge of the dock, though, waiting for me to join him. I knew for this one moment he would never leave me behind, no matter how vexatious the atmosphere may be.
But only the gods knew how long he would keep waiting in the future.
* * *
"So let me get this straight," my father said, placing his hands together and leaning across his desk once more, "you called Zen, asked him to trace the signal with you by illegally using XYZ's intel and database, left the hotel on your own, and faced Alec by yourself?"
"Bingo," I said, giving my father a thumbs-up. He tried hard to hide his smile, but I could see the corners of his lips threatening to tug upwards while my mother began rubbing at her temple, muttering something about the idiocy of the Sparrow clan.
"Why didn't you just let XYZ do it?" my mother asked, irritation plain in her bottle-blue glare, a disapproving frown set on her lips.
"Do what? They weren't there when I got to the ship," I shrugged, "and I left after they did. Clearly that agency should get a new second-in-command."
"Sweetheart, the anonymous call was for Park," my father pointed out. "If Park hadn't left and contacted Zen, we might've never located Jasper and the boy wouldn't be tucked in his bed right now."
"Don't praise her!" my mother scolded, flabbergasted at my father's support for my actions. My father laughed as my mother smacked his arm, which only infuriated her even further.
"And what about Alec Darkwood? What do you have to say to him?" she asked, placing her hands on her hips. "You're taking this far too lightly, William."
My father sighed as he turned to face us. "You do know I should just chuck you in jail," he said in a grave voice to Darkwood. "I am nothing like my daughter."
At this point, both my mother and I made noises in the back of our throats.
"What he means, Alexander, is that he's exactly like Park and that you can take any bedroom here that you'd like," my mother corrected. "But first, we'd like to hear the story from your mouth. I hope you understand that I'm a bit uncomfortable with having a potential double agent being under the same roof as my children."
So Darkwood told his story, starting from the fire all the way until earlier today, where he had been carrying out an order to kidnap Jasper Sparrow. He was less angry recounting his life with my parents, but that's probably because they weren't holding a gun to his head.
"You don't know how the person you work for knows of Jasper's birthright?" my mother asked, biting her lower lip.
"I was just told his true identity was with the Sparrow clan, and he needed to be kidnapped," Darkwood replied. "I'm not allowed to ask questions. The results are pretty ugly if I do."
"Did they believe your money could be of help, Alec?" my father asked
"Nope. The inheritance wasn't passed to me," and his tone took on a bitter quality. "I was just plucked off the streets and told that the royal family needed to be taken off the throne. Retribution for their neglection."
"No questons allowed and a serious unbalance of information," I said. "Tell me how exactly did you not find any of this fishy."
"Go to hell, Sparrow."
"After you, Darkwood."
"Children," my father said, raising his voice a volume louder. "Now, Alec, we understand your situation, and we will do all in our power to right our wrongs. You will never have to face anything like that ever again. But, as a security measure on our part, we will need to keep our eyes on you to make sure you're not going to commit any more treason."
"Sure, sure. Keep a bodyguard on me or something. I don't care," Darkwood agreed, not seeming bothered at the thought of being watched.
"In return, we ask that you show us that you are loyal to the kingdom once more," my father pushed. "My daughter extended her hand to you. Show us that you are someone that deserved a second chance."
"Should I swear an oath or something to prove myself worthy?" Darkwood gave a yawn and made a move to rub his eyes, but the two of us were jolted in our seats when my father slammed his hands down on his desk.
"No, Alec, you can't say it so dully!" My father rose to his feet. "This family is about pizazz! You've got to talk with enthusiasm, with spirit! Say it like, 'Yes, sir! On all my honor as a Darkwood, I will make you proud. I will show you what true loyalty is. I will not let my redemption go to--"
"Will, I think it's time for you to go to sleep," my mother interrupted. "Park, show Alec to a room and then get some rest. We've got big things coming our way now that someone's back from the dead."
"By your command," I obliged. As the two of us were by the door, I turned around, a smug smile on my face. "Father's right, by the way. Zen always calls XYZ for me, so technically, it was because of me that Jasper was found. So remember this fateful day as the day that Captain Park Sparrow saved the world."
"You saved two people," Darkwood scoffed once we were out of the room.
"The world," I insisted.
After that, the two of us walked in silence. I could see Darkwood take in the vast halls of the palace as we strode past galleries and polished swords. My mind was running through all the rooms we passed, wondering which one I should offer up to Darkwood.
"You're not as bad as they made you out to be," Darkwood said as we passed a painting of Helena the Conqueror. "They made you out to sound like some kind of brat after you grew up, but you're a much bigger idiot than I expected."
"I'm absolutely flattered."
"I remembered you when we were, what, six? There was this big party and you fell off some tree. Gods, I thought you were the stupidest girl ever. I guess twelve years didn't do much difference."
I stopped in my tracks and Darkwood halted as well, raising a black brow at me. "What?" he asked.
"I don't remember you," I stated. Were he and Logan in some kind of practical joke together? A make-Park-feel-as-if-she's-missing-part-of-her-memories kind of thing?
"I barely remembered you," scoffed Darkwood, continuing the walk. "Our families weren't fond of each other's. You know the whole Fell versus Sparrow ordeal? My family stood strongly with the Fells."
Look at where that choice got you, I thought, but I kept my mouth shut. Instead, I lead Darkwood down another hall until we stopped in front of the room at the very end. I opened the two doors, pushing them inwards. My hand fumbled for the switch on the side.
The lights flickered on as several loud clicks resounded through the silence. Darkwood made a noise at the vast interior before I heard an exasperated sigh follow.
"Oh, look at that: it compliments your eyes," I snickered. The Darkwood clan colors were forest-green, mahogany, and silver, meaning I had chosen the room consisting of fifty shades of green. The walls were as dark as the woods of Cimeria, with furniture and sheets a variety of green. The floorboards were a tenebrous mahogany and there was even a portrait of Helena's Garden hung on the wall.
"Green for the giants of the forest, mahogany for the land that we conquered, and silver for the blood of the river," I quoted, pleasantly surprised that I had remembered what the colors of the clan stood for.
"You know, just because my clan colors were green doesn't mean I'm the biggest fan of the color."
"That's not what your socks say."
"How did you know my socks were green?"
"Oh, look at that, what a lucky guess."
"Have a wonderful night, Sparrow," he said, turning on his feet to push me out of the room. "Call me if the queen comes."
"Alright, alright." I held up my arms and backed out of the door frame. "Call me if you need anything, Darkwood. I have plenty of green in my room."
I dodged out of the way right as a pillow flew past the doors and slammed into the wall. The doors shut loudly right after and I let out a small laugh before continuing down the corridors towards my room. Too bad he didn't know the queen wasn't due back until August.
The solitude, I thought, would help me. However, by the time I stopped in my hallway, my head was a collective mess, with too many thoughts cluttering up mind. Words and memories flashed through my eyes and I sank to the ground, my back pressed up against Logan's door somehow.
Logan Cross liked me. Logan freaking Cross. The boy that I've shared a bitter rivalry with since my first year at Cross Academy. The boy who dropped snide comments as we passed in the halls, with comebacks that made me want to rip my wig off and then slap him silly.
I debated over whether or not I should knock on his door to give him my answer. And then I remembered I didn't even know what my answer was.
There was only one thing I could say to him, I desperately didn't want to say it. If I uttered the words, it would put a stop to all our little fights. It would stop the exchange of coffees in the morning and the sodas bought in the afternoon. The arguments over math problems. The flower crowns. The city strolls at dusk, the plane rides asleep on each other's shoulders. The late nights at my house as we waited for my cousin. The simple things, like the brush of our hands, the intertwining of our fingers for strength and comfort.
"Logan, are you there?" I said out loud, getting to my feet. There was no reply. Was he there? Or was he ignoring me?
"I'm sorry," I began. "I'm sorry for making you worry so much about me. You're only eighteen, so I apologize in advance for any grey hairs that might start showing up due to the stress I've caused you."
"And also...I'm sorry that I've never caught on fast enough," I said, my breath shaky. "Maybe if I had, this wouldn't have gone on so long. It's not that I like you back or anything, it's just...it's really complicated." I put my face in my hands. "I actually do like you--"
I cut off. He didn't need to hear that.
"But I can't do this--whatever this is. There's something else coming up, and I can't...I can't be with you. I'm sorry, and I know I suck at apologizing and explaining everything. If we keep this up, then you'll end up getting hurt and I don't want that. I'm telling you that you need to lose your feelings for me because it's the only way you can avoid being dragged into this mess."
I stopped talking there. I wasn't sure whether it was because I couldn't force any more words out or it was because there tears that were beginning to swell in my eyes.
He might already be asleep, I thought. It was a long day for the both of us. Or maybe he did hear and was choosing not to reply. Quickly, I wiped the tears from my eyes and turned away from his door, planning to head to one of the terraces to clear my head.
"Holy shit!" I screamed when I saw a figure standing in front of me. "Logan?"
Oh, my gods, please don't tell me he's been standing there the entire time.
"Have you been standing there the whole time?" I asked.
"Yes."
That was bloody fantastic.
"Is there anything you want to say? Maybe, I don't know, acknowledgement to my emotional speech back there?" I asked, suddenly fearing his response. Logan brushed past me, his hand stopping on the knob of his door. I felt as though we were ships in the night, passing one another by, but the both of us headed on a collision course for the rocks. Neither of us seemed as though we could walk away unscathed.
Logan glanced over his shoulder, giving me a long look that had my nerves jittery.
"Apology accepted," was all he said before he disappeared into his room.