Jack Celliers: Sadie

Jack Celliers: Sadie

Imagine your husband(Jack) finds you in the POW camp:

I've been here for so long that the beatings don't seem to hurt anymore. It's like I'm not quite in my body anymore, instead I'm watching it, almost as though I'm just an onlooker.

I don't know how I managed to get here, all I know is that I tricked my military into thinking I was a man, and next thing you know I'm out here fighting a war, only to be caught. My trial was short, I was nearly sentenced to death, but by a stroke of luck I was detained as a prisoner of war. That's not to say that I feel lucky, most definitely not, you have no idea how hard it is to hide being a female when you are a prisoner.

I've lost so much weight that I no longer have my period, so that is a big help, but I also know that this quick weight loss is incredibly unhealthy. Now the only issues I have include hiding the fact that I wrap my chest, as well as making sure that I consistently lower my tone.

I don't socialize too much with the other soldiers, I barely even talk to Lawrence, and the only reason I do is because he goes out of his way to initiate conversations with me. I think he has assumptions about my true identity, he does have quite the analytical mind, and I would have to be an award winning actress to pull the wool over his eyes; but as of yet he has made no mention of this towards me, my only evidence being the cautious glances as well as a sudden protective nature.

_______

I can't say for sure how long I've been here, but I know it's been at least a couple of months now. I've gotten closer with Lawrence, no longer minding our occasional chats. I seem to be the preferred punching bag for the guards, so I told Lawrence early on, that should anything ever happen to me, I want only him to treat me; I don't care how bad my injuries are, only he is allowed to treat me.

This is the third time this week I've ended up in our makeshift hospital, no one but Lawrence will even come near me in fear that my bad luck might rub off on them. I'm more than sure Lawrence knows I'm a woman, but he still hasn't said a thing about it to me.

All I know is that I can trust him... I hope.

_______

Lawrence's POV:

Bailey Stevens... quite a good soldier from what I remember, but I barely know him really, or should I say 'her'; because I obviously know that this soldier is a woman, and I suspect that she knows of my assumptions.

She's extremely reserved, which is expected from everything she's been put through; the guards here seem to love beating on her. I'm not sure whether it's due to her being physically smaller than everyone, or because she has an intrinsic need to act; probably both.

I can't help but feel a need to protect her, she's like the rebellious sister I never had. I can't allow the Japanese - or anyone for that matter - to figure out that she is a woman. Who knows what they would do to her.

_______

She's been unconscious for a couple of days now, only having brief periods of consciousness where she might drink some water, or says 'hello' before going back under. I don't know what to do anymore, I've told our doctor everything, and I've done everything he's told me to do, but she still sleeps the days away.

To add on, I've got another friend here now, Maj. Jack Celliers, another determined soldier who was born to act. I know I'll have my hands full with these two when they both get back on their feet.

__

It's late into the night when her form begins to stir, I quickly sit up, wondering if today will be the day her strength returns. I must admit that I've missed her rebellious spirit, though I also fear how she will react to having possibly lost sight in her right eye.

Her eye flutters open, wandering around the rundown building before focusing on me. She tugs the covers tightly against her chest, and I can see the underlying fear emanating from within her gaze, I can only offer her a soft smile to try and calm her down.

"I know Bailey... I know. No need to worry, your secret is safe with me." My tone is gentle and friendly, and I can see her body losing the tension that had been building. Releasing a quiet sigh before bringing a hand up to her face, gently running her fingers over the gauze covering her right eye. I feel my body slightly go rigid as she looks to me for an explanation.

"Bailey, during your last beating... you were struck quite a few times to the head... It caught you right in the eye. We're not sure whether you'll have sight in it when it's healed...I'm sorry."

_______

Bailey Stevens' POV:

My chest tightens at the explanation, knowing you might lose sight in one of your eyes is an incredibly scary thing to be told. Especially in a place like this where surviving is already hard. I raise my gaze to Lawrence and see the sadness in his eyes, he looks ashamed of telling me about my injuries, almost as if feeling at fault.

I reach out my left hand, softly resting it atop his.

"It's alright, it's not your fault." I offer him a gentle smile as he gives me his own. Our moment is interrupted by the groaning of another person, I look to him in question as to who it is. He responds with another smile before shaking his head.

"That's another troublemaker quite like yourself, Bailey." His voice contains a sad humor in it, one that makes me want to laugh and frown at the same time.

"What's his name?" My voice is a whisper, but I have switched to my normal tone, it feels refreshing not having to hide who I am.

"That would be Jack Celliers. He quite reminds me of you actually, almost ironically." His tone once again holds that same gloomy humor. I however feel my eyes widen in shock as I hear his name, my heart rate increasing at the thought of it being my Jack Celliers.

"Jack Celliers?" My voice holds confusion as well as surprise, I never thought I would see him again until the war ended, that or in heaven. When he left for the war, I knew he might never return, so I put on my disguise and rolled the dice. It's been so long that I thought I might never see him again, but here we both are, stuck in the same POW camp.

"Yes.... Do you know him?" Lawrence looks confused at first, but upon seeing the worry on my face, he quickly contorts into a knowing gaze; a small smirk grazing his features at my lack of response.

"Ahh, so you do know him." His voice raises above a whisper slightly, and I quickly shush him, not wanting anyone to wake up and hear our conversation.

"Yes... Yes, I do know him. Is he alright? What's happened to him? Is he going to be oka-"

"Slow down there Bailey... When he arrived his condition was just as bad as yours, but the doctors say he's recovering quite well and will be good as new soon." My whole body relaxes at hearing he's getting better and will be alright. As I lean back, a strong sense of sleepiness rushes over me, that and the pain of my beatings; but I've never fought harder in my life to keep my eyes open, I know Lawrence can tell I'm struggling.

"Is there anything you might want me to tell him should he wake up before you?" He speaks quickly, wanting to give me enough time to respond before I lose consciousness.

"Tell him.. tell him Sadie says 'hi'." You can practically hear my smile as I tell him to use my real name. He also gives me a smile, and that's the last thing I see before darkness consumes my vision once more.

_______

Lawrence's POV:

Sadie, what an oddly fitting name for the girl who acts to survive.

I quietly walk over to Jack's bed to see if he's is awake. I'm not sure this is the best time to tell him, but at the same time, who am I to withhold this information.

As I reach his secluded sleeping arrangement, I watch as he turns slightly, his eyes fluttering open. Recognition flows through them as we look at each other.

"Hello Jack."

"Lawrence." His voice is gravely, and I can tell his body is exhausted. I slowly sit on the bed beside his own, rubbing my hands together in thought. He looks at me as he awaits what I am clearly contemplating saying.

"Jack... Is there the possibility that you know someone named Sadie?" My voice is hesitant as I speak, but the look of recognition over hearing her name immediately tells me everything I need to know. He carefully nods his head, his eyes now fixed on me with a new sense of focus.

"I only ask because another soldier recognized your name and asked me to tell you 'hello'." I can see the confusion swirl in his mind as to how another soldier knew your name, or why they would ask me to say 'hello'.

"Jack... That soldier is a woman, who goes by the name of Sadie, and claims to know you. Is there something I should know?" When he hears that the said soldier is a woman, his body jolts forward, not only in shock, but concern as well. I don't know their past, but the way they react to hearing about each other tells me they are much more than friends.

"I have to see her." Jack gasps, hurriedly stumbling to get out of his bed. I immediately rush forward, providing support for him as he attempts to stand.

"Are you sure about doing this right now? How about in the morni-"

"No, I need to see her. NOW." He doesn't raise his voice at all throughout his sentence, but the way he speaks is with such conviction, such certainty and determination that I know there will be no talking him out of this. I hesitantly nod my head, helping him walk over to her own secluded sleeping area, carefully setting him down on the bed beside hers.

He just sits there, staring longingly at her unconscious form. He looks sad, depressed even, at the sight of her. His hand slowly reaches out, softly gliding his fingers over the rough gauze that covers the right half of her face.

"How... What happened?" His tone exudes concern, but his face remains stoic.

"She tried to stop the guards from harming another soldier, I suppose you could say she got their attention." My sentence is formatted in a humorous way, but my tone remains serious. She nearly died from this, I don't find anything about that to be funny.

Jack sat there for a few more moments, just silently thinking to himself as his fingers continuously drift along the gauze.

"Will she be alright?" His tone is slightly higher, like what happens when your throat tightens up in the early stages of despair. I can tell that seeing Sadie like this brings him immense pain, maybe even guilt, but I know that he probably doesn't want me to bring it up.

"She's quite the fighter, just like you. The doctor says she should be fine, but we have no conclusive evidence on what will happen to her eye. Odds are 50/50." I try not to sugarcoat anything, but I also try to be respectful of what I say. This is the woman he loves, the last thing he needs to hear is that she might not make it.

Jack solemnly nods his head. I move forward to help move him back to his bed when he suddenly looks up to me.

"Can I stay here? In this bed?" His eyes are pleading for me to say yes, and I know that if the woman I loved were here, I too would want to stay right next to her.

"... Alright, you can stay here. But there are some things you should know first. No one else but us two know that she is a woman, alright? And she goes by the name Bailey Stevens, so when she does come around, and others are awake, just call her Bailey, alright?" Jack's eyes burn with curiosity at hearing her chosen name, but he nods his head in understanding.

I say goodnight to him, before turning and walking off a little bit. Slightly intrigued, I turn and watch from afar as Jack gently kisses one of her hands before laying down in his own bed, not once facing away from her. My mind only has one thought running through it the entire time:

"This could either be really good, or really bad."

Scar: What Did I Do?

Imagine being Scar's daughter, and Mufasa hates you:

— Lil warning: Mufasa is an ass, violence —

I was born several months before my cousin Simba, a small cub that most thought wouldn't survive; I never got to know my mother as she died during my birth. I apparently look just like her, my fur is a light grey, almost like the foggy mist that gathers in the morning before sunrise, and my eyes are a warm amber.

I am currently 5 months old, the lionesses and lions still towering over me. Luckily I have other abilities, such as how good of a hunter I've become, and the fact that I am one of the fastest runners pride.

———————

"DAD! DAD!" My roared pleadings seemed to fall on deaf ears. 

I' m currently being chased out of Pride Rock by my uncle, Mufasa. I can practically feel his anger, large paws pounding against the ground as growls continuously emit throughout the air.

(I'm not sure why, but he's hated me for as long as I can remember. He never lets me play with the other cubs, and he makes sure the lionesses ignore me. I'm not sure why he's so cruel to me, I don't think I've ever done anything to offend him.)

My body tiring quickly, I've been running for a while — and though I may be fast, I really need to work on my stamina.

I'm about to call for my father again when a sharp pain is felt in my right hind leg, I yelp loudly, tripping over my feet and tumbling to the ground. I curl into myself, afraid of what will happen to me. I suddenly hear a growl thundering around me, but this growl doesn't sound like my uncle.

I sense movement, two lions are fighting, snarls and swipes being exchanged. I slowly uncover my face, eyes cautiously opening. I immediately see Mufasa, his large stature stiff and puffed out, he still looks furious; the other lion being none other than my father. My father is smaller in size, but he is quick, dodging most of the attacks while landing a few of his own. Eventually they are circling each other, heads low and claws bared.

"Stand down brother." Mufasa slowly orders, but my father refuses to comply.

"Why, so that you can kill my daughter?" Father sneers, his eyes narrowing.

"What did she do this time? Run too fast? Ask another annoying question? Or did her presence simply offend you?" Each question was growled in a harsh, agitated tone, each word emphasized by a swipe taken at Mufasa. My father was extremely pissed, but who could blame him? This is probably the fourth time Mufasa has gotten angry with me, but it is the first that he has attacked me; every other time he just made me really scared or embarrassed.

After the barrage of attacks, both lions backed away slightly, heavy breathing and growls being the only thing heard as venomous glares were traded. Mufasa holds his head up, looking like he wants to retaliate, but decides to release a loud huff instead, turning to walk back to Pride Rock.

"Get control of your daughter or I will." He snarls slowly as he passes Scar, glaring at me when he stalks by. My form seems to only wilt further, fear of punishment from father now making me regret calling for him.

Scar turns away from Mufasa, diverting all attention to my wounded form. He walks over to me, making his way closer to check on my injuries, but quickly stops when he notices me flinch away from him. His brows furrowed in confusion for a moment until understanding occurred.

"Y/N, you have nothing to fear, I promise I will never hurt you, okay?" His normally cynical voice is nearly unrecognizable, tone gentle and nurturing as he gazes down at his wounded daughter. I glance at him in uncertainty for a moment before stumbling up from the ground and running over to him.

He carefully comforts me, his paw lightly resting on my back as I begin to cry against him. As he comforts me, he quickly assessed my leg, it looks like a superficial wound, his claws seemed to have slipped right off of it.

"I-I don't-t even know w-what I did-d wrong." I whimpered quietly, my cries having simmered down to just tears blurring my vision

Alfred Pennyworth: Alone

Imagine your dad(Bruce Wayne) is an absolute ass, and Alfred ends up becoming your emotional support after you go through a terrible event:

- Lil warning: sexual battery, battery, kidnapping, hints alluding to rape, Bruce is an asshole, depression, thoughts of self harm -

Being the daughter of Bruce Wayne carries a lot of weight, you are expected to be great at everything, get amazing grades, have good friends, be a good person, etc, but the truth is that you can't always be that person.

Sure, I get good grades most of the time, but they never seem to be enough for dad. My friends are great and supportive, they know all about my feelings, and they never use me because of my last name, but that doesn't mean my father approves of them. And last but not least, I am who I am, I can't be the socialite and extrovert my father wants me to be, I can't dress the way he wants me to, and I can't act the way he wants me to.

This isn't done out of rebellion, I really want to be the daughter my dad wants, I want him to be proud of me, but I just feel like a hollow shell whenever I try.

———————

Today I went to hangout with some people, I decided to try and be friends with people my father has openly approved of, but everything just feels so shallow.

They all dressed fancy, most of them wearing expensive brands. I even dressed like them in an attempt to fit in, but I felt like such a fake. Remembering my fathers look of approval when he saw me and when I told him about my plans makes me push away my discomfort, just wanting to get through the day.

We had gone out to eat after school, and now were just messing around in a park. It was getting late, and I really wanted to head home, but I don't even know where I am anymore.

I'm in a group of about 5 people, 3 of them being guys and the other 2 are girls. The guys and girls are dating, so just me and this other guy are basically third wheeling. The couples want to go to the movies, but I know they are just going to be making out, so I decline, stating I'll just wait in the park for their movie to end; the other guy also declines, stating he'll also wait.

The guy - I think his name is Chase - and I went and sat on a bench near the outskirts of the park. It was really getting dark now, and I desperately wanted to go home and curl up in my bed and forget about this day, but Chase simply will not stop talking. He's actually not that annoying, and he's not half bad to look at with his brown hair swept to the side, his green eyes looking at me intently.

I stand up and Chase stops talking, his expression almost looking irritated that I interrupted.

"I think I'll be heading home now." For a moment I glimpsed anger flashing through his eyes, but it was gone just as immediately, instead being replaced by an extravagant smile.

"Sure, I'll walk you to your bus stop." I almost feel like blushing, but he probably only offered because I'm a young girl alone in Gotham at night. I smile instead, and say 'thank you' before beginning my walk to the bus stop. It's not too far, only about a half mile walk, but as we pass an alley, Chase motions for me to follow him though it, stating it was a shortcut.

I don't feel comfortable, I don't like alleys in the first place, adding in the fact that it's night makes it even worse. I go to tell Chase no, but looking into the alley I realize I can't see him anymore. Fear surges within me, is he okay? Where did he go? I hesitantly step into the alley when I hear him urgently shouting my name.

I run to his voice, hoping to see that he's okay, but as I turn into a corner within the alley I'm quickly shoved into the rough brick wall. My head is aching in pain, as well as my back. I try to shove the person away, but they secure my hands with theirs, their chest grazing against mine. I don't know what's happening, I can't tell who this is because it's so dark.

I can feel the tears running down my cheeks as one of their hands gropingly wanders over my body.

"Oh, don't tell me you're crying." That mocking voice stabs me, betrayal radiating through my bones. That voice belongs to Chase, I feel like fighting and dying at the same time.

My free hand acts without thought, a loud smack ringing through the tense silence. He seems stunned, but he soon reacts in violence as well, punching my lower abdomen, my body hunching over. He gives me no time to suffer, as he pulls my body back up, holding my face up with one hand and delivering a forceful punch with the other.

I can't remember much after that other than falling to the ground, the last thing I saw was him walking towards me with a sickening grin.

———————

Pain radiates through my body, everything ached, but my pelvis and hips felt like they were  burning. My shoulder stings, and my face felt like I had been beat; my eyes aren't even open, yet I already want to go back to sleep.

It's only when the memories of last night resurface that I jump awake, my body feels like its being torn in half, but I ignore it, instead hastily surveying my surroundings. It's still dark, though how late, I do not know.

It takes me a few more moments to realize that my clothes are strewn across the floor, it's at this moment when the sickening feeling strongly radiating through both my body and mind finally makes sense. The intense need to vomit sweeping over me.

My eyes flood with tears as I hastily put my clothes on, it hurts to move but I really need to get home. I walk to the bus stop, paranoia running rampant within me, I find myself flinching at anything and everything.

I look at the clock in the bus and realize it's 11pm, I was supposed to be home by 8pm at the latest. I look at myself through my phone camera, attempting to fix my hair and clothes so that my father doesn't realize what happened to me; knowing him he would probably just be angry with me.

I shakily exit the bus, just walking hurts so much, but I put on a neutral expression, entering my home slowly. The lights are off, maybe he went to sleep early for once?

Those thoughts of hope are sharply stripped away when the cold light filters through the room.

"Where have you been, young lady?" I lower my head subconsciously, knowing I'm in trouble. I keep myself facing the door, I don't need him seeing my tear-streaked face, he'll probably just shout at me.

"I was just hanging out with my friends." I try to make it sound like I did nothing wrong, but I know it's just making him angrier.

"You were supposed to be home by 8pm, mind telling me what you were doing till 11 at night." His tone is becoming sharper and more demanding, this tone always leads to him yelling at me. That's honestly the last thing I need him to do, but what am I going to say, 'Hey dad, will you please not yell at me?' Yah, he'll probably scream if I say that.

I maintain my silence, hoping he'll just send me to my room.

"I asked you a question." I stay silent, praying that he'll just drop the conversation.

"LOOK AT ME!" His tone is deep with anger, his shout reverberating through the halls. He slammed his hand against the door, right near my head. I jump in surprise, but refuse to look at him out of both fear and self-preservation.

I can feel his glare deepen as he backs away from me, his sigh of frustration letting me know his shouting is done.

"Go to your room, you're grounded for two months." I don't argue, I don't fight, I simply nod my head and shuffle away, trying to hide my limp as I head to my room.

It's only after sitting on my bed for a few minutes that I finally let silent tears fall. Everything I do is wrong, and the one thing I do that makes him happy ended up being the worst decision of my life.

Maybe I should just stop trying.

———————

It's around 4 in the morning, I've been trying to go to sleep, but every time I close my eyes, I think of when he... when he... oh never mind. The memories are fresh and refusing to yield, so I've taken to pacing around my room, just walking back and forth and back and forth, sometimes accidentally running into my bookshelves.

Normally on a night like this I would be tucked away reading my favorite book, but everything I do right now just feels so out of place.

I'm so lost in my thoughts that I didn't even realize that Alfred had knocked on my door and opened it when I didn't respond. I only noticed when his hand lightly touched my shoulder, which caused a massive reaction.

I almost screamed, but it came out more as a fearful whimper; my entire body jumping away, my feet taking a few steps back to gain distance. My eyes are wide and distraught, scared of who would be in my room, but I calm slightly when I realize it's only Alfred.

He looks surprised, well, that's putting it lightly. He looked more shocked at my reaction, almost looking suspiciously at me.

"Please forgive my intrusion Y/N, I simply wanted to check on you. You've been pacing for a while." His voice furthers my ease, but I also feel guilt tightening my chest. I forgot Alfred's room is below mine, I must've been walking loudly, and I guarantee that me running into a bookcase isn't quiet.

"I-I'm sorry, I didn't mean to awaken you." Alfred's always been like an uncle to me, he's helped raise me, and he's always supported me in being myself.

"Do you mind telling me about that bruise?" His question startles me, I wasn't expecting that question, mainly because I wasn't aware I had a bruise. My eyes widen, and I quickly rush away into my bathroom, turning on the lights and gazing in horror at the purple splotch that was darkly forming over my left cheekbone.

I can't handle it anymore, I lean back against the wall, covering my eyes with my hands as I cry. I slowly slide down to the floor, bending my legs up and hiding my face against them as I sob.

Alfred walks over to my clearly distraught form, kneeling down and observing me for a few seconds. It didn't take him long to put it together, the bruised face, the red marks on my wrists, my tangled hair, the fact that I had thrown away my clothes from this night and replaced them with clothes that drowned my figure.

He sighs in silent anger, not at me, but at the disgusting person that did this to me.

He slowly pulls me into his side, and I welcome his fatherly response, crying against him as he whispers to me everything will be alright.

———

I don't know how long we stayed like that until I fell asleep, awakening the next morning in bed to see a note from Alfred saying to come to the kitchen for some pain killers and an ice pack, and that we would be having a chat over breakfast.

I'm scared, scared that I'll have to relive the memories of last night, but I'm also thankful. Thankful that someone like Alfred cares about me like how my real father should.

Senseless Reality:

Senseless Reality

Sinnelose Realiteit(Afrikaans)

Realitet Pakuptim(Albanian)

毫无意义的现实(Chinese)

Nesmyslná Realita(Czech)

Meningsløs Virkelighed(Danish)

Zinloze Realiteit(Dutch)

Réalité Insensée(French)

Sinnlose Realität(German)

Beprasmiška Realybė(Lithuanian)

Бессмысленная Реальность(Russian)

Senseless Reality(Shakespearean)

Guys, I used a translation app, no need to get critical.

Unraveled Ch.5: Tough Times

Ch.4 Ch.6

"Jenkinson?" Alec questions back, looking forward and shoving his hands in his pockets as he continues forward, as if our conversation never occurred.

"The Chief Super. I saw you walking with her." Ellie quickly states back, looking over at him.

"No." Alec quickly denies, his blunt and stubborn attitude making it hard for me to stifle the smirk begging to appear.

"I did, you were having 99s." Ellie pursues, looking over to me for help. I simply smile and continue walking.

"Miller, your son went to school with Danny. Does he know yet." Alec voices as he continues to avoid her questions by changing the subject, instead getting straight to talking about the case.

"...No." Ellie reluctantly replies back, looking at the ground in thought as Alec glances over to her.

At this point I begin to space out, something I've been doing way too much of, but I have too much to think about. How will Tom take the news of his friend's death? Does Tom know anything? I also should probably go and check on Beth and her family after this.

I continue walking until I hear Ellie asking Alec to stop calling her Miller, causing my head to turn up to watch the conversation play through, already knowing he's not going to call her Ellie.

"Why?" He questions, genuinely wondering why.

"I don't really like the surname thing. I prefer Ellie." She quickly replies, looking over as she talks. I look over to Alec as he thinks about it.

"Ellie..Ellie... No." he states after speaking her name, striding away after deciding 'No'. This time I'm unable to hold in my slight giggle at her facial expression, sliding an arm around her shoulders and pulling her into a side hug.

"Oh Ellie, you'll get used to him." I voice as I continue to grin widely. I quickly release her before I run to catch up with Alec. Looking back to see her look of shock dwindle into one of annoyance. Elbowing him slightly, he looks at me before breaking a smile at seeing my obnoxiously happy grin. Myself laughing even more as I hear Ellie shout at how he calls me by my first name.

——————————

We have just arrived at Jack's, we're here to question him because he interacted with Danny regularly. In my time at Broadchurch, he's probably the third closest person to me, Ellie and Beth being tied for number one, with Reverend Paul being second.

As soon as we walk in Jack slightly smiles at me in welcoming.

"Hello Elspeth. What can I do for you?" I smile back as Ellie replies.

"Jack, we need to ask you a few questions. Danny didn't turn up for his round this morning?" A look of sadness engulfs Jack's face at Ellie's question, Alec over to the side looking through some papers as he listens.

"I assumed he was sick." Jack replies.

"Did he often miss his round?" I question, Jack's vision shifting to me.

"They all do, one time or another." He responds, Alec looking up finally to make eye contact with Ellie and me. I could see immediately that Jack was going to be in for it if Alec thought he heard something incriminating. I know about Jack's past, I did some digging up on everyone I met here, after finding the news I made him explain what really happened. I believe that there is only one other person who knows about his past wife and son, and I can only pray that it doesn't get dragged into this investigation.

"How was Danny yesterday?" Ellie replies as Alec looks away. Jack's expression looked as though his eyes were watering in grief.

"No different than usual." He replies, slight exasperation in his voice.

"Did you notice anything on his mind in the last couple of weeks?" Ellie continues questioning.

"He was only in here 15 minutes first thing. I-I'm not a psychiatrist." Jack answers, I notice Alec lifts his head up and looks at Jack. I know Alec is a great detective, but his blunt questions always have startled me, even when we were just children.

"You married?" Alec suddenly asks, I glance over at him then back to Jack, knowing Jack's response.

"No. Are you?" Jack fires back, his eyebrows scrunched down at the question. They stare at each other for a second, Jack turning to me as Ellie glanced over at Alec, I just slightly cringe seeing as I only recently learned of my best friend's divorce.

"They brought him in here, Mark and Beth. Three days old, he was. It's not right." Jack states as he looks between me and Ellie before glancing at Alec at the end.

Ending our questions, Alec and Ellie walk out of the shop, not noticing how I didn't follow. I waited a few seconds before going over to Jack and grasping his hand, a few held back tears escaping his eyes.

"Jack, I know this is an awful thing, especially with what happened to you. You're like a father figure to me, as well a guide for the young children in the Sea Brigade, but you need to tell them what happened in your past." I explain in sympathy as he grips my hand.

"I know Els, but my past is mine, and mine alone." Jack states as he releases my hand and wipes away his tears. I sigh, knowing that would be his response.

"I promised to never tell anyone about it, and that promise still stands; just know that with this case, reporters are going to try to get a story out of anything, guard yourself." I state as I nod my head bye and run to catch up to Alec.

————————

"What'd ya have?" Alec asks solemnly. I look away from the man to the screen as he gives us the rundown of his injuries.

"Superficial cuts and bruises to the face. Traces of domestic cleaning fluid on the skin. Cause of death was asphyxiation. He was strangled. Bruising to the neck and the windpipe, and at the top of the spine. Patterns of bruises suggest large hands, I'd suggest a male. It, um, it would've been brutal. The angle suggests he would've been facing his attacker. He would've known." The man finishes. Throughout his explanation I stayed leaning against the wall by the door, looking down. Child murders have always been the worst experiences for me, and it seems this one plans to leave a lasting effect.

"Any sexual violence?" Alec questions after the explanation, throwing a glance over to me, but I don't return his look as I continue to stare at the floor. Silently holding my breath, praying the answer is no, ever since that terrible event happened to me I have become excessively sensitive when this question comes up.

"Mercifully, no." I let out a quiet sigh of relief, finally looking up. Glancing at Ellie to see she's nearly crying. I slowly step over and grasp her hand.

"Time of death?" Alec continues.

"I'd put between 10:00pm Thursday night, and 4:00 am Friday morning." Alec sucks in air noisily as he closes the folder before saying thank you to the man and shaking his hand, I release Ellie's hand and shake the man's. We turn to leave, Alec grabbing my upper arm and leading me with him before we hear the coroner start talking again.

"We don't get these around here. Make sure you find them." The man voices. Alec looked from me to Ellie. Before continuing on his way, myself being pulled with him.

Alec drags me out of the station as we're already on our way to inform the family. Ellie looks questioningly at his actions, especially at how he is holding my arm and is about to say something when Alec interrupts.

"Go grab the car Miller." he harshly vocalizes, not even sparing her a glance. Ellie looks like she wants to say something, but leaves to grab the car with a huff of annoyance, leaving us alone.

"Are you alright?" Alec quietly questions as he releases his harsh grip on my arm. I rub it slightly staring down at the ground.

"I'm fine, why?" I respond, though my voice quivers slightly, the memories of Pippa's decomposing body flashing through my mind, causing me to scrunch my eyes close in an attempt to rid my mind of the image.

"Els...Els... Elswyth! Look at me dammit!" Alec nearly shouts after a few seconds of me not reacting. I look up at him shouting, the tears blurring my vision, his frustrated gaze immediately softening at my state. He reaches over, but I flinch and back up slightly. He hesitates before he reaches over again, but confidently continues as I don't move away. He tenderly grasps my left shoulder and drags me into a soft hug, my face pressed into his neck as I hug him back, his head resting against the top of mine. One of his hands rubbing soft circles against my back, his other softly resting against my neck as he calmly hushes me, some tears managing to escape my tired eyes.

After a few seconds of his comfort I am significantly calmer and try to pull myself together, Alec softly kisses the side of my head before we pull back from the hug, myself blushing slightly, Alec having a light tint of pink on his cheeks. I look at him before smiling despite my burning eyes.

"Thank you, this case has been harder to deal with than I expected." I say as I sheepishly lower my gaze.

"It's alright Els, I knew this would bring back bad memories... for the both of us." Alec softly replies. He's about to say more when Ellie pulls up in front of the station.

"Are you riding with us?" Alec questions, looking back at me.

"No, I'll grab my car and meet you at the Latimer's." I reply after thinking for a second. I was going to hug him before remembering Ellie was there, deciding a smile was better before heading off to my car.

————————

"We have some preliminary findings.... We are treating Danny's death as suspicious." Alec states to the family. Ellie is trying to hold it together as I watch their responses. Beth looks like she's falling apart, Mark looks like he's bottling it all up, and Liz looks heartbroken.

"We think he may have been killed." Alec finishes.

"I should've checked on him before I went to bed. If I'd checked..."Beth voices, immediately blaming herself. I want to tell her this isn't her fault, but I know it's best to let them run their mouths. I look over at Chloe to see her leaving as Ellie talks.

"Beth, this is not your fault. Whatever happened, this is not down to you." Ellie immediately emphasizes. I can see Alec glancing over at her as a silent 'shut up'.

"I promise, we will find the person responsible....You have my word." Alec promises after a pause. I look at him, knowing that he's probably going to overwork himself to find this killer, and I'm going to have to work even harder to make sure he doesn't kill himself in the process. I know how this case is bringing up memories of our failure, and Alec is making a personal promise to this family.

————————

After informing the family we all head out, Alec and Ellie in one car and myself in my own. We pull over at a shell station, I pay and start filling my car before heading in to buy some food, bumping into Ellie.

"Els, do you and Hardy know each other or something?" Ellie questions, I glance outside to see Alec anxiously waiting. I'm about to respond when Ellie gets a call, I quickly grab two granola bars, and pay for them, heading out while Ellie is on the phone. I walk out to see Alec hold up his watch as a 'hurry up' to Ellie. I sit next to him and hold out one of the bars, he looks down at it skeptically, then back to me as if to say 'I'm not eating that'.

"Don't give me that shit Alec, I'm not stupid enough to miss how much weight you've lost since the last time we saw each other. Not to mention you look like a dead man walking." I state sternly as I stare straight ahead, still holding out the bar for him. He grumpily mumbles something as he lazily yanks it out of my hand.

"So, do you think Miller's noticed that we know each other?" He questions, the sound of the crinkly wrapper being pulled down off the bar filling the already noisy atmosphere.

"Funny thing, she was just asking me if we knew each other when she got a phone call." I state. The air between us quiets down as he takes a bite of the bar, giving me an incredulous look after swallowing it. I look over at him, eyebrows raised in amusement at his look of disgust.

"Why would you buy this, it's appalling." He questions rhetorically, his accent thickening in his last word. I hum humorously at his expression, earning a small smile from him. He tentatively wraps his arm behind my back, pulling me into his side slightly. I lean against him as I gently sigh in exhaustion.

"Y'know, I've really missed you Els." He voices as he looks down at me, his smile turning into a pleased grin when I look up at him and return the smile. I'm about to respond when a disgruntled Ellie exits the shop, both of us instantly separating from each other.

I slide off the hood and head back to my own car as Alec and Ellie get into hers, the expression of worry was very obvious on Ellie's face, which is only prompting me to worry about what that phone call was about.

Ellie and Alec head off, and just as I start my car I get a notification on twitter, one that immediately infuriates me. My only thoughts are on how I'll postpone going to the station and make a detour to slap Oliver upside the head.

Ch.4 Ch.6

Senseless Reality

It was early on a Thursday morning when she received the dreadful news that her husband was dead.

She had been wondering why he didn't return home last night, even waiting by the phone, eventually calling him but never receiving an answer.

She had just walked her children, Lisette and Alonso, down their lengthy driveway to the school bus awaiting, softly waving goodbye as it noisily drove away, finally letting her smile and hand fall as the bus went out of view.

Turning back to walk home she realized the birds were being particularly quiet, abnormally so, it made the silence uncomfortable as she was trapped with her ceaseless thoughts; not even the breeze rattling the fallen leaves was as loud as usual. She smoothed her black braided hair to the side before tugging uneasily on the sleeves of her blue-grey sweater, tightly wrapping her arms around her body as she began the walk back home, listening closely to the crunch under her shoes, her mind still wandering in confusion as to where her husband, Ryker, was.

A few steps away from her porch she slowed her walking as she heard the sound of a car, her steps faltering slightly as she turned around, revealing the stand-out black and white pattern of a Belmont, Ohio police car driving towards her. The glare against the windshield from the grey sky made it impossible to see who was driving, leaving her unsure whether to feel overjoyed or distraught at it's surprise appearance.

The closer it drove the quicker her heart beat, taking in shallower breaths as she watched the car pull to a stop a few feet away. Her hands subconsciously wringing each other as she waited for the car door to swing open, suddenly feeling uncomfortably hot even though it was fairly chilly. She knew the dangers her husband was in due to his line of work, and knew that he could be injured or killed on any call-out; but nothing would prepare her for the despondent look on the officers face as he stepped out of the car.

Ryker was on call with his partner for a breaking and entering in a residential zone, the criminal had gone out the back and rounded the house to come up behind them as they went to enter through the busted doorway, shooting both several times in the back before running. The police were currently searching for him, but only have two witnesses, one who glimpsed him as he began to bust open their door, and a neighbor who saw what was happening and called the cops.

As the officer explained what happened her mind went blank, the already dampened noise of the forest completely disappearing and that uncomfortable heat suddenly vanishing, leaving her body instead feeling empty. She quickly found herself forced back into reality when the officer had reached out to touch her shoulder, it wasn't rude or unwelcome since this officer was real good friends with herself and Ryker, but the sudden and unexpected contact shocked her enough to jerk her shoulder away and take a step back. He immediately withdrew his arm, his gaze cast down towards the floor, whilst she dawned a regretful look as she realized her actions.

She finally said, "I'm sorry Carter, I-I just feel slightly overwhelmed at the moment." Her voice timidly quiet, a slight stutter as she tries to understand and control all the emotions suddenly running through her. A look of understanding washes over his face before nodding his head solemnly and turning back to his car, "Goodbye Saden." Carter spoke, offering a brief, sad smile before stepping into his car and driving off.

There were many thoughts rushing through Saden's head, all of the news not hitting her fully yet. With her mind racing she slowly made her way into her cabin home, locking the door before resting her forehead harshly against the stained wood, giving herself one moment of peace before pushing off and heading to the phone to make a couple of calls.

-------

The house is dark, giving off an unsettling and discomfited aura; the sun not having risen yet and no lights nearby, yet here is a boy with his school uniform and backpack on quietly closing the front door. He starts walking away from his house quickly, the anxious atmosphere surrounding him slowly dissipating the further he got, his tensed shoulders and on-edge look lessening to simply slight paranoia.

He has a scar above his eye, its somewhat red color making it obvious against his pale skin. He got this scar the same time he lost his mother and half-sister, the car crash was brutal, only him and one of the other cars passengers having survived.

He shades his eyes away from the blinding headlights that pass by every so often as he walks down the pavement, his paranoia disappearing the closer he nears Bingham's Pond. He finds a spot away from the road, setting his bag down as he observes the slumbering swans and ducks. A small smile graces his features as he remembers when he and his mother, Liz, would come here early in the morning to talk and watch the sunrise before school; his smile disappearing as quickly as it had arrived as he realizes he can only come here alone now. He could always ask his step-father Alec to come with him, but he dreaded any response Alec gave, especially now that he was the only one to survive the car crash.

In an attempt to shake his thoughts away from the past he glances back to the swans, admiring their beauty against the dark water. The first few sun rays start to glow against the dim sky, a slight breeze causing him to shiver as he has no uniform jacket since that costs extra money. As he sits down and leans against a tree he winces at the pain flaring up in his back before shaking it off and pulling his bag towards him, unbuckling the freezing metal and reaching in, pulling out a folder containing unfinished homework; a lot of them had crumples and tears even though he kept them neatly in a folder.

Releasing a weary and exasperated sigh he began working, starting with his name, 'Archer Carlisle', his cold hands making it harder to write and a look of aggravation flashes through his eyes as he knows that he will not get all this homework done before school; dread filling him at the thought of having to tell Alec about the bad grade even though his unfinished and torn homework was Alec's fault. With another sigh he got back to work, attempting to finish as much of it as quickly and as accurately as possible.

-------

It's been a week since I was told about his death, I already knew that I couldn't stay in our comfy Ohio home, especially since Ryker built it; just walking through the door caused a nauseating feeling to wash over me knowing that I'll never see him again.

The funeral was yesterday afternoon... The black dress I wore is now a pile of grey ashes in the firepit. My daughter Lisette went with me, it was a windy day with a sprinkle of rain dusting the ground outside; it seems that the world was even mourning the loss, but that's probably just me putting meaning into simple things.

My son Alonso took the death of his father very hard, I know how close they were, and seeing my son crying made a tear break through my facade of strength, but I had to quickly wipe it away as I embraced my weeping son. His cries lasted for an hour, Lisette began to cry as well when she saw Al's shaking form being comforted by mine. That night I stayed with them in their room, sitting on the carpeted floor between their two beds, one hand grasped in each of mine as I told them stories to lull them to sleep. When I knew they were asleep, I continued to hold their hands, leaning my head back against the wooden wall as I stared up at the ceiling, the light from the moon creating shadows of tree branches against the opposite wall. I simply sat there, thinking about the calls I made the day I received the news; by next week, what's left of my family will be in our Scotland cottage, away from here, away from him.

I still need to tell the kids, I'm not sure how to tell them we're moving away, away from everything that reminds us of their father. I can only hope they will not despise me for this decision, but just staying in this home causes my mind to wander in a direction I will not allow myself to go in.

------

The bell rings loudly as I rush into the closing door of my classroom, glancing around the room I see everyone already seated and the teacher watching me pointedly. Lowering my gaze, I straighten out my homework and turn-in the messily finished pages to the basket before traipsing past my teacher's desk to reach my seat, avoiding his and everyone else's gaze at all times.

I know I shouldn't be frightened by my teachers, but Mr.Curraigh has the same stern voice as Alec, and I can't help but be anxious whenever I step foot into his class; his strict rules and intimidating stature don't exactly help me when trying to differentiate the two.

Mr.Curraigh glances up from his computer to me, I swallow nervously and shuffle slightly in my seat as I look down to the paper I delicately placed onto my desk. The class's quiet chatter had resumed a few moments ago, but was quickly halted again when Mr.Curraigh pushed his leaning figure off of his desk and leisurely strided to the front of the class.

"Mr.Carlisle, wish to explain to the class why you were late? Again." His nonchalant first sentence greatly contrasted his harsh enunciation of 'again'. Subconsciously I lower my head as the class is silent, other classes might giggle, but they know not to screw around in this class.

I shake my head 'no' not fully trusting my voice to answer without stuttering.

"I can't hear you Archer. Will you explain to the class why you were late." His sharp, accented voice rang out against the stillness and left no room to avoid his question. I know he is looking at me as he awaits his answer. I finally look up at him, answering quietly as my gaze constantly flickers between him and the ceiling.

"I overslept sir, I won't let it happen again." I tried to present a calm face to hopefully stop him from calling me out again, my mind inside is blaring with thoughts of whether he will accept the excuse or not. A second passes before he walks back to the whiteboard and begins writing, everyone quickly copying it down in their notebooks, the conversation seemingly forgotten. An inkling of worry continued to nag in the back of my head that he knew my excuse was a fake, but I had no time to give it any contemplation as I was already falling behind on the notes, and my recent wrist injury isn't exactly going to benefit me either.

Class has finally ended, most people were packed up and waiting by the door for the bell, only a few people were sitting at their desks. I tuck the assigned homework into their folder, placing my notebook in my bag as well. I reach for the folder when another hand grasps it first, a hand belonging to no student. I keek my eyes up before quickly looking down at the desk, it was Mr.Curraigh who was holding my homework folder, he was leaning against the desk as he skimmed through the now open folder.

"Y'know, your organization and care doesn't add up when you turn in ripped papers." He states as he slowly closes the folder, holding it out for me to take, which I quickly follow through with, silently placing it in my bag.

"You want to tell me the real reason you always seem to be running late?" Mr.Curraigh questions, his normally loud and stern voice now quieter and containing a hint of concern. It's been a few moments and I have yet to respond when he voices,

"Archer, if you have a real reason as to why you are late, I understand, but I can't accept these fake excuses anymore. This is the 10th time you've been late. If you can't give me a real reason then I have to give you detention." His voice was never very strict or harsh throughout the sentence, having more of a warning tone to it, but all I can muster as a response is to uneasily shake my head 'no' as I look up to meet his gaze. Mr.Curraigh simply looks forward for a second before releasing an exasperated sigh and pushing off of the desk.

"Don't be late for detention Mr.Carlisle." Is all he says before walking back to his desk, the bell ringing and the students rushing out of the door, myself following immediately as to not be late to my next lesson. My thoughts for the rest of the day are clouded with how Alec will react when I come home late, how he will react when I tell him I got detention again. The dread pools in my chest, making it feel tight, the air suffocating me as I trudge through the day.

------

First day in our new home, it was a cottage that my parents owned and I inherited. Far away from Ohio, far away from Ryker, all the way in Glasgow, Scotland, located in a nice area with lolling green fields and a stone wall neatly surrounding it.

Lisette and Alonso had taken the move better than I expected, it would seem they wanted to get away as much as I did. I had called ahead to make sure the cottage was ready for when we arrived, and a friend of my parents is coming over to watch my children since I have to go to my job as soon as possible.

Rushing out of the house, I briskly give the friend a hug, quickly stating the time I'll be home before racing over to my rented Volkswagen vehicle. My bags strap twisting as I attempt to situate everything in the car, I quickly shove it into the passenger seat before adjusting the mirrors and heading off to my new job.

The grey clouds littering the sky remind me a lot of home, but this busy city is exactly what I need to get away from my small town life. Driving on the left side is quite odd though, something that'll take some getting used to.

As I pull into the parking lot I notice that school is nearing the end of the day, I hope I won't get fired before I even start. Quickly stumbling through the office door, I straighten my posture and shirt before walking to the front desk and stating I am the new science teacher. The woman smiles before phoning someone, I assume the principal or maybe another teacher.

After waiting for around 2 minutes, the office door loudly clamors open, a tall man with thick light brown hair and an intimidating stature strides in, giving a small nod to the woman before approaching me. I stand up and shake his offered hand.

"Hello there, I am Mr.Curriagh or Aric, I am here to escort you to your class." His voice has a thick accent to it, something I will have to get used too now since I'm living in Scotland. His intimidating posture seems to contrast with the friendly smile he offers.

"Pleasure to meet you Aric, I'm Saden." I politely respond before allowing him to lead me out of the office and down the hallway.

"So, you're the new science teacher?" He voices in slight curiosity, continuing to navigate the empty halls.

"Yes, what do you teach?" I question, walking faster to keep up with his brisk pace.

"Oh me? I've always been a literature person." His charismatic response causes a small smile to appear, the fact that people here are so nice and welcoming is something I adore. We come to a halt after another moment of walking.

"Well, this is your class, though you arrived a bit late." He explains as we watch through the window as students packed their bags. I release a quiet sigh, of course I would miss the whole first day of my job.

"Don't worry about missing your class, you can pop in to help with detention or explore the grounds." Aric states as he flickers his eyes from the window to me, I'm about to respond when the bell rings loudly, echoing through the empty halls before the classroom doors swing open and students file out. We both stand near the window of my classroom until the halls quiet down again, only a few students standing around, whilst some are just now finishing packing up.

Aric turns to speak to me again when his gaze turns to something behind me, his sudden shout startling me, and I quickly turn around to see the culprit.

A young boy with dark brown hair immediately halts, his eyes going wide at being shouted at, his arm tightening its hold around his book clutched against his chest.

"Archer. Detention is in the other direction." Aric states as he walks up to the student. I would expect any student to be nervous at being called out by a teacher, but this student, Archer, appeared downright terrified.

Before Archer is able to respond, Aric begins to speak again. "This is the second time you've attempted to skip detention, Archer." Giving a slight break as he waits for a response, after receiving none he let out a groan of irritation before stating, "Come with me Archer." Beginning to walk back over to me, Archer trailing a few steps behind with his eyes trained on the floor.

"I'm sorry to cut your tour short, but I have to escort this student to detention." Aric states as he glances back to Archer.

"Quite alright Aric, mind if I come with? I did miss my first day after all." I question, glancing at Archer, his eyes not having moved from the floor the whole time. Aric briefly nods his head before leading the way to detention. I quickly follow, attempting to keep up, listening as Aric describes the parts of the school we pass through.

------

Who is this person? Is she the new teacher? She did say she missed her first day here, and our new teacher for science was unable to show up.

I lift my head up, my eyes looking at her for a moment as I contemplate whether I should ask my question or not. Finally giving in to curiosity, I ask, "Are you the new science teacher?" My question seems to startle them both out of their small talk, Mr.Curraigh now silent as we await her response.

She turns to me and offers a friendly smile before responding, "Yes that's me, you can call me Mrs.Monroe." Her response is nice but short, and her voice seemed to waver slightly when she said her last name, causing my head to tilt ever so slightly in confusion at her reluctance to speak her last name.

"It's nice to meet you Mrs.Monroe, my name is Archer." I respond, my voice seeming more confident and louder than my normal tone, though I barely give it any thought. For what time was left of the walk to detention, I spent it talking to Mrs.Monroe, I don't know why, but she seemed easier to talk with, it could've been from her non-intimidating stance and height, or possibly that she reminded me of my mother, both of which are plausible.

We were talking about the book I was holding, "Great Expectations", when Mr.Curraigh comes to a halt, the room that detention is held in being right in front of us. I reach out to grab the handle, momentarily forgetting about my wrist injury until I release a grunt of pain, immediately pulling my wrist back and holding it against my chest as the harsh gripping agony floods my system, reminding me of yesterday.

Both Mr.Curraigh and Mrs.Monroe seem shocked at my sudden outburst of pain, Mrs.Monroe is about to say something but I have no time to think, stumbling backwards I turn slightly and run off. I go to the only place I feel safe, Bingham's Pond, or Swan Pond as my mother used to say; just remembering that causes a wave of anguish to sweep through my body, all these things that keep happening are too overwhelming. First I lose my mother and sister in a car crash, then my step-father(who already disliked me) blames me for it, and now I have a teacher who reminds me exactly of my mother, I simply don't know how I should feel or respond to these situations anymore. I'm so caught up in these prolific thoughts and aching pain that I fail to hear the footsteps approaching me.

It was the sudden hand on my shoulder that caused me to gasp in surprise at the presence of another person. Quickly turning my head I expect to see an angry Mr.Curraigh or possibly Alec, but I am instead met by Mrs.Monroe's sad smile as she crouches next to me. Reaching out her hand for my wrist I flinch away, but after another second I allow her to see my wrist, ignoring the possible consequence that she might question how I sustained this injury.

It was the slight widening of her eyes that caused me to follow her gaze, I chose to never look at my injuries, so seeing my wrist all swollen and bruised causes my eyes to widen as well. She lightly touches my wrist and I immediately pull away, the pain scorching through my arm. She seems to sit there in a moment of thought, as though contemplating what she should say.

"Archer. How did this happen?" There it was, the one thing I didn't want to hear. I shake my head and look away, only now realizing that a few tears had streamed down my face, quickly wiping them with my free hand. I don't hear a response to my refusal so I glance back, seeing Mrs.Monroe holding back tears as well, though why, I do not know. Shaking her head, she pushes herself off of the floor, and reaches out a hand for me, which I slowly take. Now standing I dust myself off with my good hand, loosely holding my backpack as I await her questions.

All she does is, seemingly shake her head to herself, before motioning for me to follow her. She leads me back to school, never speaking or glancing to me, just staring forward, almost emptily. She takes me to the medical room and tells me to wait by the door as she walks away to converse with a nurse. I wonder what she is saying, does she suspect that my step-father caused these injuries? Or does she think another student did this to me? Should I just run while I still have the chance? My thoughts are abruptly halted as both Mrs.Monroe and the nurse walk over to me, my nervousness kicking in at another person now being present.

I attempted to not pay attention to the flare ups of pain as the nurse wrapped my wrist in an ice bag, the freezing cold making me shiver as the weather outside was already chilly. After a few minutes of icing my wrist she brings out a compression bandage, snuggly wrapping my wrist and hand, the pain has lessened, but maintains a steady ache that surrounds my whole arm. When she finishes she gives me instructions to do daily, and a note for class seeing as that was my writing hand.

Walking over to the door, I spot Mrs.Monroe waiting there, her friendly smile replaced by a serious and stern look, one that makes my steps a little more hesitant. We leave the med room and walk out into the quiet, desolate hallway, her face still serious as we both stop.

"How did you get that injury Archer." It wasn't a question, but something that demanded an answer, one I was extremely reluctant to give. Angling my face away from her I shake my head 'no' again, not wanting to tell her the truth, my mind blaring that it would cause more pain than good, that even if she did believe me no one else would.

"Archer, if you don't tell me, then I will have to tell the office to call your dad." She states, her voice losing some of it's sternness as she attempts to get me to answer.

Hearing her call Alec my dad causes all these feelings to just explode, my anger is flowing freely, and I can't help but react chaotically, "HE'S NOT MY DAD!" My shout echos down the hallway, the silence left in its wake is uncomfortable, all that anger-driven confidence quickly leaves my body as I exhale. She's not stupid, she's going to figure out what's going on, I'll be taken away from my home, the last place that reminds me of my mom and sister.

Her posture seems to stiffen after hearing my response, I can only hope she won't be angry with my outburst.

"I'm only going to ask you one more time. Who did this." Her voice was deathly quiet, the second sentence being harshly enunciated and leaving no room for excuses. I finally face her, though my head is still lowered, my eyes flickering up to her every so often as I contemplate what I am about to say.

"....Alec." My voice practically a whisper, though I know she heard it, and knowing that someone else is aware of this secret just causes me to feel... vulnerable.