Awakening: chapter 1 - Second part in Anguish Series

[charming_syrai]

Author: Syrai
Fandom: Original
Rating: PG-13 for now
Genre: Fantasy // Supernatural // Action?
Warning: Bad language and probably some violence ahead.

Status: COMPLETED.
First published: April 19th, 2005

Second part in Anguish Series

Summary: Set about three years after the incidents of SoT. (You might want to read it to truly understand what’s going on in here) Romy’s life changes dramatically when the hidden witch gene seems to be awakening and all the sudden, she becomes the prey being hunted by her own friends. Now the question is, can she still be saved or will her mother’s fate be also hers?

A/N: Reviews are love. All my love goes to F who “forced” me to make some, umm, changes with the plotline. Let’s all thank her for that. Oh well. She’s my muse, what can I say? Answer to that? I need a life and a boyfriend and that’s pretty much all I can say.

DISCLAIMER: Mine. Use my characters and perish. Ask and maybe you'll get permission.




Part 1

Did you know that Jack Nicholson spent half of his life believing his grandmother is his mother and that his mother is his sister? Ask yourself; how fucking twisted is this world, honestly? How would you feel after finding out that your whole life has been a big fat lie told to keep you from asking questions they don’t want you to ask? People that you thought you knew lied straight to your face… for years with such perfect credibility that you start to wonder what else has been a lie. I don’t know about Nicholson, he seemed to take it pretty well but me? Not so much. You could say that when I found out the truth about my mother, she being a witch and all, I was mad at my father for not telling me. Mad at the Centre for not sharing the secret that big with me. She was my mother for crying out loud, I think I had the right to know. And when I found out she was still alive… when I realised I had to be the one to pull the trigger and kill her, spill her blood all over me, I was mad at the whole goddamn world for making me go through it.

Mad at God.

It was three years ago, three extremely long and exhausting years ago but yet it feels like nothing around me has really changed. Maybe deep down, I’m still the same person too. Okay, sure, Raven says I’m a bit more cynical now days but Christ, in this world who isn’t? It’s the only way to remain sane in a place like this, I think. You see, if I look around me I’ll smell the same old smells, hear the same old voices, feel the same old rush and, yes, see the same old office. Now, one might wonder why I’m still working for the Centre, after everything that’s happened to me ‘cause of it, but you have to understand that this place is not one from where you can resign whenever you want to. Oh no. It owns you, every piece of you and whatever you do or say… you do because they let you. When it comes the Centre there’s only their vision to be fulfilled and you mean nothing.

And hell, if I could choose, I really wouldn’t choose to leave either. What else would I do? After hunting witches for years I don’t think I’d fit behind bank’s counter anyway. I’m not a people person. I’d just end up pulling out my gun, point it to their heads and ask them not-so-nicely to go back to the fucking line.

Here’s the deal, the long story between thin covers. Witches, they’re evil. Forget everything you thought you knew about them. Forget all the movies and books where the lame bedtime stories give you the impression they’re sweet creatures, just a bit misunderstood. Forget it. They’re evil. I know it, because my father when he was still alive told me so. Three years ago I was forced to kill one… my mother. I sleepwalked through that moment, really. I had killed hundreds of witches before her, I had captured even more of them but as much as I hate to admit it, that son of a bitch was the hardest one ever. I had to travel all the way to Finland too just to find her! I needed her to die, watch her die, hear her breathing stop. The orders didn’t engage it but it was something I had to do, for my father. Only it didn’t give me the satisfaction it should’ve given but I knew that even before I pulled the trigger.

So, the Centre is an agency with one and one purpose only… to hunt down all the witches and eliminate them. That’s what I do. Hunt, find, capture, kill, whatever. Just make sure they don’t go walking around the earth, you know, killing people. Learning your father, who had also worked for the Centre had married a witch without knowing it, is enlightening. You don’t have to believe it, but it is. It changes the way you see things.

A witch and a hunter, together? Match made in hell - and hey, look what you get. Me. Of course, when I finally met my mother again, she tried to convince me that everything I’ve been told is a lie… that witches are not evil, humans are. Yes, well, she’s not entirely wrong. Every coin has two sides, does it not?

Before I was born over two million people died. That’s what presumably started the battle between us and them. Now, normal people were told it was a disease of some sort but the Centre, the Centre knew better, yeah indeed. In fact, the Centre was what caused it. the Centre said they were innocent people killed by witches. Truth? They were “innocent” witches killed by humans. So?

The thing is, witches are still evil and they’ve always been. They’re not innocent and few of them dying doesn’t erase that. When I first found out what really had happened, I was disgusted, sad and angry. Shocked. I thought I was hunting down innocent creatures. But then, I realised that just because a one lousy witch hasn’t killed yet, doesn’t mean it won’t. It will. They always do. Humans, we simply did what we had to do and I wish they had all died. The part where we are evil is the part where we’ve always captured witches, tested them… a group of scientists, they planted trackers into their bodies to be able to follow their every single movement but something went wrong. I have to point out though, that they did it to protect humans, not to hurt witches. Anyway, in the end, the implants didn’t quite work and the witches, they ended up dead which is fine with me. The problem is that I saw my mother die like that, well; at least I thought I did. Till 3 years ago I thought my mom had died because of witches and it was the only thing that truly kept my hatred alive. Fed it. Now it’s all kinda empty. I still hunt them plainly hating them for what they’ve done, but it’s not the same anymore. The fire’s gone.

But this is my life nevertheless. And I keep living it just for the sake of being alive. This is the place, the building where I can be me without having to care what my name today is. To the world outside these walls I’m Julia Parker, the nice young lady who works in a big law firm and draws comic books. If they only knew… I’m not nice. I don’t work in a law firm. I can be Julia though, if you want me to be. I can be anyone they ask me to be. It’s not like I’d know who the hell I really am anyway. While undercover I have so many different names that it’s hard to keep track of them all. To these people here I’m Agent Hensley. Romy Hensley. Though, only Raven dares to call me Romy which is supposedly my real name but I don’t know. It was probably the Centre that gave it to me when I was born anyway, through my father of course. Since I believe his alias, Will Hensley was made up one, it pretty much makes me made up too. But it’s fine. I don’t care.

Something catches my attention and so I slide a little bit to my right to see what’s happening behind my computer screen. Raven’s desk which is facing me is empty but I can hear his voice, there’s no doubt about that. The weird thing about Raven and me is that I seem to have a sixth sense when it comes to him. On the contrary, he does seem to have one when it comes to me then. My gaze scrambles around the room till I finally spot him on the other side stepping out of the elevator. The smile appears on the corner of my mouth instantly. He’s talking with someone on the phone, rushing towards me with such a look on his face that you’d think he’s been shot in the ass. While I can hear his voice, I can’t understand a word he’s saying but whatever it is, he’s mad as hell. Seeing him like that amuses me even more.

“I can’t believe this”, he spits hanging up and throws the cell-phone onto his desk with force. His whole desk shakes as he sits down, punches his arms down on the table and lets his head fall down to his wrists. Alright, that just might leave a bruise on his forehead. “What was that about?” I ask nodding towards the cell-phone, not that he could see it since his forehead is still pressed against his hands. “Trouble”, he answers lifting his head up and sighs. Yeah, I figured that part all by myself. Go Romy.

“You know we have briefing in half an hour, right?” He asks giving me a look I’m very familiar with. It’s the famous I-bet-you-already-forgot-you-dumbass-look he uses on me every time I, eh, forget something. It happens a lot but only because paying attention has never been my strongest characteristic. I have Raven for that so I’m thinking, why bother?

“Sure do.” I’m not sure how that has anything to do with the issue here, though, but yeah I know. For a change.

“Michelle’s in Greece for two days”, he starts, “and Jenny’s babysitter is sick.”

Ryan, usually known as Raven Shaw; he sure as hell isn’t the same person he was three years ago. Granted, dark messy hair hasn’t changed at all and neither have the bright blue eyes. He still wears the same brown leather jacket, too, but he’s more mature now days. Why? It wasn’t me that changed him, I didn’t even try, but Michelle DeWitt she tried and succeeded. Michelle is one of those persons you can’t help but like, but who at the same time manages to drive you absolutely insane. Three years ago, three month after the whole incident with my mother, the whole Centre went through a couple of relatively big changes. Not just us, but every single division out there in the world. Few of the divisions were eliminated, few were born. I still don’t know why, it’s not my job to ask questions so I didn’t.

Anyway, she was transferred from D7 to D5 which is the division where we work with Raven. We needed more people in the lab or something, don’t ask me, and we got her. She’s a scientist you see, very brilliant minded too. I think they fell for each other instantly though I’m absolutely clueless how it happened. I mean, I just don’t see it happening. Apart from the fact they both like to go by the book and obey orders, they’re so very different. Raven has a wild soul whereas Michelle is more like… an old soul. It took three months for them to sleep together, another three to get engaged and there you go; Jenny was born. And now Jenny, she’s the cutest baby ever. After she was born it only took a month for them to realise they just weren’t meant to be. It was sad in a way, but boy was I glad. As said, Michelle’s a nice person, very friendly and very smart but she has this uncontrolled desire to change people, carve them into fitting a shape they do not want to fit in. Raven, he doesn’t like to be carved and I didn’t really like it either. There’s your complication.

”So, can’t your mother take care of her?” I question, but he shakes his head, disappointed. “I haven’t reached her yet.”

Okay, what else do we have? “The Centre?” I know his answer even before he snorts it. “I’m not sure if I trust the Centre’s babysitters.” Hell, I wouldn’t either but I had to ask. I’m not particularly keen on going on a mission without him and the idea of having another partner doesn’t really suit me either. It’s not the same without your real partner.

“Okay, so how we gonna solve this issue then?”

He sighs, again. “We ain’t, not now.” Wait, no, what? “I gotta go. You’ll have to take this mission with Crichton. ”

The last word stops my breathing for a split second. Crichton? I’ve noticed that when you think things are as bad as they can get, it’s when something even worse happens. Murphy’s Law follows you no matter where you go. The bottom is always down there, waiting and even when you think you’ve reached it, it slips even lower. What’s up with that?

“Trey?”

By the tone of my voice one might think I have something against Trey Crichton but no people, that’s not the case. In fact, it’s quite the opposite. So, me working with Crichton doesn’t necessarily mean it’d be a bad thing, all I’m saying is that it might - and probably will distract my ability to do my job well and that’s the last thing I want to happen. I had enough of it with my dear old mommy. The Centre should know better - why would they willingly let me work with him on the field anyway? I’d say they have one twisted way of seeing things but what can I do about it? Whine, yeah, but not sure how much that’ll change things.

“Yeah, Donna is unavailable.” There’s my answer. There’s no one else to back Raven up but Crichton which is why they’re ready to put us working on the same case. “You’ve worked with Trey before so it should be ok. And if this turns out well I’ll be back before you even know it.”

“Right…” We used to have 10 field agents in D5, 4 pairs working, 1 backup pair… but they cut the number to 4 for some ridiculous reason. I guess it was budget problems with the higher powers or something alike but man, it sucks. Lately I’ve been working with Donna Harris a lot. She’s Crichton’s partner - a nice young girl, barely even 20. It was only last year that her training finally ended and she was able to join the team but it’s fine, I’d trust her with my life. If she’s good enough for the Centre, she’s good enough for me.

”Anyway, so”, Raven continues glancing his watch, “I gotta go right ‘bout now. I’ll try to come back after I’ve handled the big issue here, okay?”

My shoulders collapse and I roll my eyes before blowing the air out of my lungs. ”Okay. This is just great. If I gotta go on a mission I’d rather take you with me you know that.”

“I know”, he says smiling and gets up, “but it’s not like I can change the situation from here.”

He’s right, of course. I damn all the babysitters in the world to the hottest hell ever. Being sick is just unacceptable. And well, not having a back-up babysitter is a goddamn mistake too from Raven’s side. I damn him as well.

“Yeah, well, give her a kiss from me, won’t you?”

”Will do”, he answers starting to walk towards the elevator again. Then he suddenly stops looking over his shoulder and adds, “Oh by the way, Crichton is in the nook.”

My eyebrow rises. The nook - It’s the nickname we’ve given to our storeroom where our weapons are being held. Well, the big weapons that is. The big guns we can’t carry while walking around the streets. The big and important weapons that the scientists of our own tool department have thought and made up to make our lives a little bit easier… and more exciting. You know, the expensive ones. The nook is on the floor below us, right next to the big doors of the laboratory where Michelle’s normally running around wearing that white lab coat of hers looking like a weird hamster.

“Why?” I ask frowning, “What he there for?”

He laughs, amused. “Cleaning his guns, what else? You know him.”

Yeah, I know him. “Men and their guns.”

Raven starts to walk again, but he can’t leave the floor without throwing over his shoulder; “Yeah, says the lady who adores her own.”

//

“You left these at my place.”

He’s standing right behind my back, breath brushing over my ear, tickling the side of my neck. He’s holding something in front my eyes and it takes at least few seconds for me to recognize them but when I do, I gasp. Oh you son of a bitch!

“Crichton! Do you mind?!”

I grab the piece of clothing from his hand and all he does, is chuckle. Damnit, there’s no words to describe just how embarrassed I am at this very moment, hoping no one saw us through the big windows separating the office from the briefing room where we’re in. He has such an immature sense of humour every now and then…. at least when it has something to do with me. Sometimes I think he just enjoys teasing me, especially at work. Whereas I’d like to keep work as work and my personal life personal, he obviously doesn’t. I’m not sure which one bothers me more though, that or the fact he doesn’t seem to respect what I want at all.

“No, not at all”, he answers whispering. I can just imagine the malicious grin plastered on his lips; the signature of Trey Crichton’s, that’s for sure. “Aren’t you being polite; showing my panties to the whole goddamn office”, I whine turning around to face my harasser, stuffing my white panties into my pocket.

“Always.”

Trey Crichton. You know how every class has that one boy who can make all the girls go crazy by just flashing that famous grin? The boy that makes all the other boys jealous and girls all soft from the head and they have lots and lots of catfights because they all want to date him? That’s Trey. He thinks he’s something special, a God’s gift to the female gender and in many ways, he’s damn right. Of course it’s pure stupidity to admit it to his face since it only makes the vicious, self-righteous grin grow deeper and deeper and the sparkle in his eyes starts to blind everyone standing near enough. Still, there’s something tender inside him, at least that’s what I keep telling myself.

Crichton, he got transferred here from Spain at the same time that Michelle did; over two years ago. Now, he’s an interesting guy, but honestly, if it wasn’t for his mother I think he’d be locked up inside some kind of institution by now. He’s a brilliant hunter, there’s no denying that, strong and capable and everything else a hunter needs to be but he’s broken so many rules that it’s almost unbelievable he’s still alive. If it had been me, they would’ve had me taken down already. Penny Crichton, his mother, is one party of the 7 persons sitting on the board council, also known as the Aquarium among field agents and alike. They, fish of the Aquarium are the offspring of the founders of the Centre in one way or another; if not a child directly, then a grandchild or a grand grandchild or a cousin or a cousin’s cousin and so on. Being related to someone on the board council gives you certain privileges; when your mother or father is a part of the Aquarium you can do whatever you want to whomever you want simply because one day, you’ll be sitting there too. It’s where you are destined to be, unless you’re stupid and get yourself killed before that. It has happened. Anyway, the rest of us, we just have to lay low and stay out of the way.

“Crichton, seriously, you can’t pull that kind of stunts here”, I protest pushing him away. The defiant look I give him makes his smile grow bigger and that’s pretty much the only effect it has on him. Someone’s being extremely difficult today, I see.

”Relax Parker”, he laughs, using my alias as always. Malicious - honestly, it’s the only word to describee the smile on his lips, the sparkle in his eyes, the tone of his voice… okay, confident would also fit. Oh and wicked, definitely. Evil.

“I’m pretty sure the Centre knows about us already.”

…Technically there is no us.

”We” are just some random fling that keeps us both entertained during cold nights and makes the loneliness go away for a moment. That’s how I’d like to keep it too, but for some ridiculous reason he has decided that it’s not good enough. It’s not like he’d actually love me, he has never ever said that, he just gets satisfaction knowing I’m available only to him. At first it was just a night... or two. It happened a week after he got transferred and I honestly thought I’d never see him again after he'd leave, which I know isn’t the most perfect excuse on earth but what’s done is done.

Originally, he wasn’t supposed to stay with us for more than 4 months top and I thought that’s a great opportunity to have fun without attachments. England was his destination you see, but things change.

He steps forward trying to draw me closer but I shove his hands away violently. “Yeah, but Raven doesn’t. I’d like to be the one to tell him, not some gossip queen.”

The smile on his face steps aside for a second and something very similar to frustration seems to take over. ”Well, then tell him.”

”I will”, I hear my mouth saying. ”When it’s the right time, ok?” I’m making up excuses again, aren’t I? Why can’t I just tell him that the right time is never going to come, ever. It’s just not. Sure I like him, he’s a good-looking fellow, funny and great in bed but I don’t have time for all that regular stuff couples do. I have my work and I need to keep my concentration 100 per cent clear, because I don’t have mother on the board council to save me every time I fuck up. All the mistakes I make, I have to solve on my own. So, if he wants to bed me few times a week yeah, okay I’m in, but cooking dinners, holding hands and going to movies and being all cuddly? No.

”I think the right time’s been for weeks.” There’s a hint of disappointment in his voice, but mostly he just sounds amused. The frustration got hidden pretty damn quickly, it seems. “You’re afraid of his reaction, aren’t you? I don’t get why, he likes me.” He laughs shrugging.

I hate it when he’s right. Raven does like him which in a situation like this is unfortunate, at least from my point of view. If he didn’t like Trey I could say we can’t see each others because I can’t let my personal life become before my work and by annoying Raven that would mostly likely happen. But when Raven actually does likes him it makes it… complicated somehow. There’s no way out. Isn’t there a rule saying a girl’s best friend isn’t allowed to like her boyfriend when she doesn’t want him to?

“Come on, admit it”, he chuckles, but luckily I don’t have to answer his remark. “Hush”, I hiss as the director, Mister Winch opens the door and steps in looking as chubby as always. “Good day”, he begins smiling, walks to the big table in the middle of the room and sits down. “Hey”, I reply following his lead and sit down. Trey of course picks the seat next to me just to let his leg accidentally touch mine but hey, I expected nothing less. A player with good cards always tries to go a little bit further than he should. Maybe I should tell him that that way the player usually ends up losing his money, his mind, bank comes to knock on his door, he starts to drink, becomes alcoholic and before you know it, his wife and children are gone.

I can’t concentrate, I mean, I can see Winch is talking, I hear the words but not a single one of them actually registers into my mind. This is exactly what I meant by Trey being a damn distraction! And this is why I need Raven to collect all the information which he can share with me… later. Later, as in when I’m not bored out of my mind like I am during every briefing. I can’t help it, honestly, these things are just not meant for me.

“The target of your mission is known as Marie Fuller.”

When I hear the familiar name my eyes shoot up. “Related to Pete Fuller?” He nods. “Sister, we believe.”

Oh wow, I had almost forgotten all about him. Pete Fuller. So, you know how the witch gene usually goes from mother to daughter? Well, Pete belongs to the rare occasions that prove it’s not always like that. We ran into him 9 months ago by accident really. When the witch gene awakes it usually causes paranoia which is why witches become evil and sick, dangerous. The paranoia erases their humanity and their sense of reality and soon every one and everything becomes their enemies. They have their good days and their bad days.

Me and Raven, we were attending a Comic Book Convention in Atlanta 9 months ago and boom, there he was. I was there because I was promoting my second comic book I’ve drawn, as Julia Parker of course and Raven was there just to back me up and for the kicks and comic books. He’s totally addicted now days and when I met him, he didn’t even know what the difference between comics and manga is. Hopeless I’d say. It seems pretty unlikely for a secret agent to go out to promote her comic book, doesn’t it? The director Winch says that the best way to remain believable is to have lives of our own just in case. So, people don’t really have any reasons to suspect me, I’m a normal girl working and showing my face. It can also be dangerous though. When they, witches know who I am, or know my alias, I’m forced to be extra careful all the time.

Anyway, so there we were, I was talking with some nice young boy answering his silly questions about my characters and all the sudden Pete shows up. Of course at the time we didn’t know what the issue with him was, but it came pretty clear when he started to float above the floor. We tried to capture him, but we never got him. Slipped through our fingers just like that. We don’t know how. Our machines couldn’t find a trace of the guy and no one else seemed to know where he had gone either. The weirdest part was that all the information we could find out about him seemed to be a bit inaccurate. Almost as if Pete Fuller didn’t exist and someone had just made him up in a hurry.

“Only that their last name isn’t Fuller at all… seems like we underestimated that young boy”, Winch continues before I can make further questions.

“What do you mean?” Trey slightly switches his position which clearly tells me his attention is pointed at Mister Winch at the moment. Good. It’s how it should be.

“Investigation Team has found out his real name is Patrick Foley and Maria Fuller is also known as Morgan Foley. The reason why we didn’t know this is very simple… we still aren’t sure how many family members does that pain-in-the-ass family have since they’re very good at protecting themselves.” He looks and sounds disappointed, almost angry. Well no wonder really, I am too. As long as I’ve been here we’ve been repeatedly trying to get our hands to that family but wherever we go, it’s always a dead end. We don’t know how many members does it have or where its headquarters is located. We practically have nothing. Now, we could just go and assassinate the ones we know but there’s a catch; it’s against our current regulations. Fuck them, I’d say but it’s not how the system works. First we would have to make sure they are all witches before we attack and we haven’t been able to get a confirmation which is why we’ve been doing nothing. It’s like a mafia family, I’m telling you. Foley family is a rich and powerful family that owns the city and every gang underground even though people deny it. Magazines and others leave them alone because they pay them to and that’s why we never get to read the latest rumours. Father character Tony Foley has really done his job well and kept their lives as a secret. Pisses me off.

”I suppose we’re gonna go hunting him then?” I ask while playing with a lock of brown hair that escaped from behind my ear. Trey glances at me, grinning. To him, there’s nothing better than a hunt and I don’t mind one myself either. Life without some bad guy to chase is boring when you’ve gotten used to it. And hey, we went through a lot of trouble because of that guy, me and Raven. We made total fools out of ourselves trying to chase him only to end up realise we lost him. Though, knowing he was Foley all along does balance it out a bit; at least we had an opponent worthy of us and the defeat doesn’t feel that disappointing anymore.

“Yes. You two will go and find him and his sister.”

Trey’s finger cut the air before his sarcastic voice does the same. “Oh excuse-me, but why would we be able to find them now? That family has protected itself for years and we haven’t been able to hurt them at all.”

Winch chuckles to himself, pleased. Obviously he has something more to tell us, you can just see it flashing in his eyes but he takes pleasure out of being the only one who knows what’s going on. “Because Patrick and his sister are in New York and we believe they’re leading an underground witchcraft group.”

Well so? Isn’t that what they all do? The loners come here, to the spotlight of sin and try to make something out of their lives. Try to change something, make them feel more important to the world. They don’t want to be alone so they always start to call themselves a leader, establish a group and try to locate others like them to feel less lonely. I guess I can relate to that in one level but I don’t go around killing people just to find others like me to take over the world or whatever their plan is. Some of the groups are more dangerous than others. Few have even attempted to kill me and Raven more than once so you have to be pretty damn careful. That’s why I don’t like to let witches get away. They always pass the message forward.

Which is why I’m not sure why should I be handling the case… “Okay, but why put me there?” I question, “The guy has seen my face.”

The director rolls his eyes making me feel like I would’ve asked the stupidest question ever. “You two are the only available field agents with complete training, and it doesn’t matter anyway. You two are not supposed to go undercover and build up a conversation with him, it’s too dangerous. You’re just supposed to eliminate him.”

Alright, I get that. Maybe he’ll send Donna to do that part? “And Morgan?”

“We need her alive”, he replies but the aggravation in his voice is easily to be heard. Damnit, is that a drop of disappointment I’m feeling? Yeah, surely is. “We haven’t confirmed her yet, have we?” He shakes his head. Figures. Well, all in all, the whole mission doesn’t sound too bad, maybe just a bit difficult as Patrick really has seen my face already. The only thing that seriously bothers me is Crichton though, whom I rather not take with me but I guess I don’t really have a word on this one.

“When will we be leaving?” Trey asks. “Right after you have read all the needed files which should be done by tomorrow noon. They’ve been carried into the conference room as usual. You’re dismissed so please, go take a look of them.”

Oh yay, more irrelevant information with what I do absolutely nothing. Lots of coffee. If only I get lots and lots of dark coffee, black but with sugar I’ll survive. Coffee will save me. I get up from my seat wondering if I could go drown myself into our gym’s swimming pool.

//

Sometimes it’s better for you to admit the defeat and just let things roll on their own weight. Walk away without saying anything. Sometimes it’s just better to admit that you’re not strong enough to fight, admit that you don’t even really want to. Don’t try to swim against the tide sweetie; it’ll only suffocate you with its power. Admit it and let it fill you. Give in.

Get lost with it.

I listen to his steady breathing not daring to wake him up. His left arm is lying on my back, heavy as hell but I’m afraid moving it or changing my position would snap him awake. He doesn’t sleep a lot and when he does, all I want to do is watch him and let him sleep. Kill every little sound I can hear. The doctors he’s met say insomnia is a disease that can be cured but Trey doesn’t agree with that. Sleeping pills, he says, make him feel like he’s not sleeping at all. Like he’s just closing his eyes, falling into darkness and waking up feeling as tired as he was when he went to sleep. More tired actually. It doesn’t solve anything, doesn’t lead anywhere; only makes it worse.

It’s weird, because I have to eat those pills the Centre gives me to keep myself awake. He eats pills to be able to sleep. Eating pills is not a good thing and it doesn’t matter what they are for. Sometimes, when I haven’t eaten them for few days I feel the need… to get them. It’s my body trying to stay awake, trying to keep up with the beat of the work and my mind needs them to stay clear. I learnt not to fight against it because when I do, it only makes it worse. So I guess I’m in the same kind of situation Trey is. With me it’s just slightly different. He doesn’t understand my side of it though.

I’m not a junkie, you know, I’m just… I’m nothing. Never mind. Forget it.

He’s facing me but I can’t see his eyes for his dirty blonde hair hides them from me. But I know they’re blue, sometimes green. It depends. The white sheets reveal his other leg which is hanging over the edge of the bed and his right arm is clutching the pillow under his head. You know, his right arm is completely covered with tattoos and I don’t mean like pretty flowers or dragons, I mean quotes. Trey is obsessed with Chuck Palahniuk’s books and his whole arm is filled with quotes from his books. There’s few on his lower-back too, one on his angle. They’re everywhere. All written with black ink but different fonts and different sizes. They’re his mantra, his bible. Trey doesn’t believe in God like I do. He says it’s a myth made by humankind so that they could try and find a meaning to their lives to feel better about themselves when the simple truth is, there’s none. Life isn’t about having a meaning and fulfilling it, he says, it’s about being born, living and dying. Circle of life and that’s all. No fate written in stars, just choices that push you forward.

I know it’s late, we should be at work by now but… he’s sleeping for heaven’s sake. It’s morning, 10am and in two hours we should already be ready to hunt.

Fine, I’ll wake him up. Work comes first, remember?

“Trey”, I whisper and crawl closer to him. He makes a groaning sound but doesn’t really seem to be awake. “Crichton”, I say but this time with a bit louder voice to fade away his dream. I wipe the hair of his face to see the closed eyelids. He’s smiling. Wonder if he finally saw a dream worth remembering. “Mmm…” he mumbles slowly opening his eyes.

“We should get going.”

“What?” The arm on my back grabs my side, pulling me even closer. “Work Crichton, we should go to work.” To anyone else this might look like a sweet moment between two people in love with each other. But it’s not. Occasionally it fools me too. He fools me. But I know it’s not. It’s just an illusion, it’s not real. I wish I’d be able to tell it to him and bring an end to his delusions.

“Come on, we spent 8 hours reading those files”, he mumbles breathing to my face, “I think we deserve few hours in bed.” The smirk is back there on his lips and I can’t help but grin back.

“Yeah, and now those few hours are spent.”

To his big disappointment I shake his hand off and sit up. “Parker…” he snarls, definitely annoyed. Patience is something he doesn’t have.

I don’t know why he keeps calling me by my alias and I’ve never asked. I don’t care. Maybe by pretending I’m not Romy Hensley, his co-worker he can play his game and pretend this really is real. Make believe. There are no rules saying he couldn’t date and if I’m just one girl he met at the train station few months ago, things are better. Nothing stopping us. Well, guess what, I’m not some girl you met at the train station. Wake up from your dream and smell the reality. It stinks.

“You know I think this mission is one of those we can’t handle.” I get off the bed and walk to the bathroom without closing the door. It’s not like he hasn’t seen me naked before.

“Just love how fucking optimistic you always are”, he groans from the bed, “Gods, let me wake up first and we’ll argue after that.”

“Wake up then and think about it.” I’m brushing my teeth while talking, “From where are we gonna look? And you know, being Foley, he’ll probably have some secret bodyguards following him 24/7 and it’s just impossible to get near him. Snipers, I bet he has snipers and we’re both death in a matter of seconds.”

”Yeah and that’s something you’ve never experienced right?” He spits out. I swear to God, if I had sarcasm radar, it would be beeping already. “Being killed? No, I haven’t”, I throw back. ”Holy shit Romy, you’ve taken down a gang of four witches with Raven just because you didn’t give up.”

“They didn’t have snipers as far as I recall.”

“Romy…”

And because we had guns, yeah, so? “I suppose”, I reply shrugging, put the toothbrush on the table and wash my face. “Get ready ok? I’ll make some coffee. Some strong coffee.”

“Fine”, he sighs.

On my way to my wardrobe I pick up my clothes that got thrown on the floor when we arrived. I can hear him swear as he gets up and walks to the bathroom slamming the door shut. Well, aren’t we being childish today? He’s definitely not a morning-person but I knew that already. The shower gets turned on, I can hear the water. Oh now he’s using his usual delay tactic. We’re in a hurry, sure, take a shower. Asshole.

I sigh. I don’t know what the issue is; I don’t know what’s wrong with me. Why I react this strongly to everything he does and says? Why I always go out of my mind and want to hate him… I often get mad at him for no reason at all, but I can’t help it. I just want to scream and yell at him… make him go away. Leave me alone. He’s making everything in my life so much more complicated and there are days I just can’t handle it or him. I don’t want to have a relationship; I’m not ready to have one, not now. But he doesn’t get it. Shit, I’m shaking and my nerves are wrecking.

And still, I don’t want him to go away. I need him to be there.

I’ve already dressed when the shower finally goes silent. Quickly I walk to my nightstand and open the drawer picking up a plastic medicine jar. It doesn’t have any kind of text on it, just a red jar with red pills in it. I try to open it with shaking fingers when suddenly I hear the bathroom door opening and I freeze. Not that I’d be doing anything wrong, I just happen to know Trey doesn’t like what I’m doing… not that I’d care.

“I don’t want you taking those”, he says casually, walks to the bed and pulls his pants on. I glance over my shoulder to see him pulling a t-shirt over his head. Man he was quick! “I don’t care. It’s my own business, Trey, not yours.”

My answer doesn’t make him happy which doesn’t really shock me. He walks to me but I refuse to turn around. “Well if they fuck up your head darling, you’re endangering the whole mission and guess what, then it’s also my business. I won’t get killed because of your stupidity.”

“Fuck you!”

He doesn’t know anything! Those pills aren’t going to fuck up my head, they’re just going to make me see things more clearly and keep me from getting tired. Being tired fucks up my head. He should be glad I’m taking them! If the Centre gives them to me, there’s nothing wrong with them and he should just accept that.

“You are not taking those pills.”

“Says who?” I question turning around to face him. His eyes are narrowed and the line of his mouth is thin… angry. Without saying anything, he grabs the jar and turns around. What is he doing?! The minute he walks back to bathroom I realise it and in horror, I run after him. “No, don’t!” My pleading is ignored and all I can do is watch how the content of the jar gets emptied into the toilet. He looks at me and drops the jar on the floor, forgotten. It rolls to my feet but I don’t bother picking it up, just stare at it holding back tears. What kind of rights did he have to go and do something like that, huh? I hit his arm as hard as I can with both of my hands but he just pushes me away, gently though.

“I hate you!”

“No you don’t”, he says, still angry. One step and he’s already in front of me, pointing me with his index finger. “you love me but you’re just too fucking afraid to admit it.”

To that I don’t say anything.

//

Seven hours later, we’re sitting in a car on the other side of the street of a bar called Night Star and I’m feeling worse than ever; shaking, sweating, thirsty. Trying to hide it makes it just two times more unbearable. The reason why we are here is of course Patrick Foley. It seems he comes here every morning and spends the whole day inside the bar. Sometimes, he doesn’t even come out but then, the next day - there he is again. How does he leave the bar? Is there a backdoor we don’t know about?

Everything’s too complicated again. This would be so much easier if I had Raven here, he’d understand me.

“You ok?” The careful question startles me. He looks at me but I keep staring out of the window just to avoid seeing his worried eyes. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

“You don’t look like fine”, he states matter-of-factly. In other words I look like shit huh? Oh thanks a lot, it’s what every girl wants to hear. “It’s those pills, isn’t it?”

Oh gods, just drop it ok? And no, it’s not those pills… at least I don’t think so. Wouldn’t know though ‘cause I’ve usually taken few every morning but for some reason it didn’t quite work out that way this morning. ”Can we please not discuss about that right now? We have work to do.”

“Fine”, he replies shrugging. I’m beginning to hate that word.

I honestly don’t get why he’s still with me. Why hasn’t he told me it’s all over, that I’m a fucking bitch with whom it’s impossible to build a relationship and left? He’ll only end up hurt anyway, it’s what always happens. If it’s not him, it’s me and I rather not be the one to suffer. Concentrate on work. Patrick Foley. Bar. Stalking. Concentrating, good. So, why are we again sitting here instead of in the bar? “We could try going into that bar. How can we be sure he isn’t there already?” I ask. If we don’t always see him leave the place, how can we be sure we can always see him go there?

“We can’t.”

Man, be a little bit more specific with me. I’m not a mind-reader. “Can’t be sure or can’t go?”

”Can’t be sure. But I’m thinking we could definitely try it out.”

Wow, wait. ”What about the orders?”

”Parker, don’t chicken out on me now. It was your idea.” Hey, no blaming me here! “How many times have you disobeyed rules and gotten away with it?”

Ah, but there’s a catch Crichton. ”That’s cause I’ve had Raven there to back me up and keep me in line.”

“Well now you have me”, he says smirking, “The line’s just a little bit different now. Let’s go.”

Yeah, well and that’s kinda what worries me the most.

Prequel // Next Chapter // Sequel: Shadows Call