Chapter 17

Lee slams the door shut and barrels through her house. She ignores her mother in the kitchen and her brother at the computer. There is no time for small talk, especially not about the police. Anger courses through her, but she does nothing.

If the computer were free, she knows what she would do. Lee would look up the number for the anonymous tip line and call them and tip off the police to somebody. Anybody. She doesn't know which of them she would pick, or what she would say, but her body feels hot and her hands are shaking.

She kicks her bedroom door shut, and the echo rings through the house. Downstairs, her Mom yells something but the sound is muffled by the closed door. Which is for the best, because Lee can't handle an explosion in their house, with its already shaky foundation.

Her hands crave. She doesn't know what that means, but she knows they itch for something. If her guitar wasn't as precious, she would take it and play until her fingertips bled and the guitar strings broke, and until her brother came up with a black tea to calm her. Lee knows that she can't depend on her brother for everything, let alone to fix this need for retribution within her.

A text comes into her phone. With shaking hands, she looks at it.

You need to learn to keep your cool. We should discuss this tomorrow.

Percy puts her phone back in her pocket. She doesn't expect a reply, but it is the least she can do. Erik is wild animal and Lee likes to poke and prod, so really, they both need to behave better. It doesn't cross Percy's mind that she should've said something. Maybe that's because she is with Hope.

"Why are you walking me home?" Hope looks down at Percy. It hadn't occurred to her until now, when the two were standing this close, that Percy was a foot shorter than her. Hope wonders if they both have the same power and intensity, but Percy's is just compacted. At least, Hope hopes that she is as strong-willed as the fiery girl beside her.

"I wanted out of there and so did you," Percy tells her, not meeting Hope's eyes. It's easier if she stares forward. Feelings are complicated, and they are more complicated with women then men, and with the angry than the soft. See, Percy could just screw Erik (or Lee, if she were into that) without batting a second eye.

Hope is different. She is quiet and her skin is too soft to screw. You can only make love to someone like that, and the thought makes Percy's stomach churn.

The taller of the two shakes her head back and forth. "You couldn't have known that. I wasn't even thinking that."

Percy doesn't say that Hope should've wanted to leave, mostly because she'll sound like some crazy pig. "A princess who doesn't mind the common folk? Unheard of."

The nickname should insult Hope, but she blushes. It was never a fantasy of hers to be a princess, but the idea that someone considers her regal and beautiful is amazing, especially when that person is a woman, and especially when that person is Percy.

"You haven't answered my question," Hope begins. She waits for Percy to fill the silence, and when Percy doesn't, Hope grins. It's almost as if every beat between them was prewritten. It's like a novel and it would only be more perfect if Percy liked girls. For now, Hope is happy just to crush and enjoyed these moments. "You live in the same apartment as Eden, by Barnaby. I'm a six-mile detour total."

Percy is thankful that Hope stops walking, since she feels like her breath has been taken away. This strange girl in front of her is full of a thousand surprises. The halo above Hope, cast down from the black streetlamp above them, still doesn't illuminate the girl's face.

"This is me," Hope begins.

"I..."

"Hope, darling," there is a voice at the door as a man runs out. He nearly trips on his slippers as he runs down the cobblestone steps leading into her house.

Percy rolls her eyes. He looks like he is a Dad straight out of a terrible sitcom. The man runs up to his daughter, ignoring Percy, and cups her face in his hands. Quickly, he pulls her into a hug. Percy can't believe that he is acting as if his daughter hasn't been out for more than a few hours.

"It's an hour past your curfew," the man says, and Hope feels her stomach drop. She hates the feeling of disappointing her Dad. "And where are your gloves and your scarf? It's far too cold to be outside."

Percy can't believe that this woman, though what she exactly does everyday besides study in libraries and capture the hearts of strangers escapes Percy, has a curfew of 8:00 PM. It's only 9:00 PM now. "Her scarf is in the wash at my place."

Hope cringes. Her father tucks her behind him, turning to face Percy. "Who are you?"

The taller of the two girls wishes her father would ask her that rather than Percy. This should be a conversation between daughter and Dad, but as always, he is talking over her rather than to her.

"She's a friend," Hope pipes in. "Her name is Percy."

Her father whips his head around, his eyes wide. Percy mistakes the glance for violence, so she steps forward. When Hope shakes her head back and forward, Percy feels herself trusting the girl. At least the horror of being hurt by her father won't be accompanied by the brutality of healing.

Then again, if there aren't bruises, it's like it never happened.

Unlike the other girl, Hope catches something in her father's face. A look of recognition, one which means she will have to sneak downstairs and pour through his notes later. Better to let him trust her now so she can best him later.

"Well, I think it's time she should get home, shouldn't she?" Her father asks. "And we should get you inside and, in the bath, before you catch hypothermia."

Hope nods. She looks over at Percy while her father marches her in the house.

When the door shuts, Percy can't help but feel like the knight at the base of a tower, staring up at the dragon and his princess.

~~~

Erik is extremely tired. He is nearly falling over in his chair. It isn't late, but the day feels agonizingly long. He wonders if his Dad will look for him if he doesn't come home. Though Erik has some value as a punching bag, his Dad didn't exactly go looking for his sister.

He gets up, moving over to June. Gently, he shakes her arms. Though the ginger swipes at him, her eyes squint open. "What do you want?"

"Were you trying to kill yourself?" Erik asks, hovering over her.

June smirks, realizing that he was worried about her. "I'll tell you if you come lie down with me."

The boy hesitates. He stares at the girl, trying to figure out her motives. She is too small to take him if she tried something, and too tired to try something anyway. Eventually, he makes his way around the bed to the other side.

When he lies down, June scoots closer to him. She feels his body go ridged, so rather than touch him, she rests her head on his pillow. The two lie on their sides facing each other.

"If I were trying to kill myself, why do you think I brought Wesley along?"

To spite us both, he thinks. Or to ruin someone else's life, or a dozen of other reasons.

"I think we both know a fall couldn't kill me," she tells him. "Now bleach is another story. Do you think our bodies would heal from that?"

Doubtfully.

Erik ignores Thea, as per usual. There are already enough ghosts haunting him that disregarding her is easy. "Why don't you try and tell me?"

June chuckles, but the feeling hurts her chest. She winces, curling up tighter. Erik hovers next to her, unsure if he should move in. If he does, he would be dangerously close to a girl, in her underwear, and her chest. Instead, he stays back.

"My brother died a few years ago," June says. She peeks an eye open at Erik, watching his face tighten. He is hiding his grimace, as if June wouldn't know about the Amber Alert they released during the search for Amelia. She lets him have his privacy. "While I think it is a waste that I got this thing that keeps me alive and he died, I don't want to join him wherever he is just yet. I just want to know my limits."

Erik too wants to know his limits. Sure, he can take several soccer balls to the face and basically daily beatings from his father, but that doesn't mean he can drink bleach. Their bones can pop out of their skin and back in place, but is that it?

When June slowly drifts off to sleep, Erik doesn't move.

~~~

Outside, the apartment building, Wesley is smoking a cigarette. The bitter taste passes through his lips, and he exhales it quickly. He's never been the biggest fan of smoking, but every few months he takes one out of his pocket and let's his anger and despair puff away with the smoke.

"You know, that'll kill you," Jamie walks up behind him, leaning against the wall.

Wesley smirks, taking the package out of his pocket and playfully chucking it to Jamie. He takes out his lighter and flicks it open. The spark dances between them. "I take it you don't want to light up?"

"No," Jamie leans forward and puts the cigarettes in Wesley's pocket.

Wesley's shivers at the boy's touch. Man, he's got to learn to play it cool. He hasn't had feelings this strong for everyone in weeks, at least. "Alright."

The cigarette is down to its very end. Wesley rolls up his sleeve, putting the cigarette out on his arm. The pain is excruciating, but he resists the urge to flinch. It sucks, but he hopes he looks cool.

Jamie watches on with wide eyes. Damn, Wesley looks cool. He's got other scars from cigarette butts up his arm, and Jamie can't tell if he has done them or if they are from some bitter foster parent. When Wesley removes the cigarette, the red mark fades.

"I'm done," Wesley offers. "Let's go."

Together, they walk back inside. Once they are in the elevator, Jamie reaches in front of Wesley to push the button. God, he feels so starved for affection. It's insane, and it's crazy, and it's all consuming.

The boys stand side by side, their arms brushing against each other. Wesley's dark eyes flick across Jamie's face, and his stomach is bubbles. It could be magic, or it could be Jamie, and it's not like it matters because whatever Wesley feels for Jamie is a sort of magic.

Wesley leans in and kisses Jamie.

Jamie's hands go up in shock, but he closes his eyes. He puts his hands on Wesley's back, his hands running against his worn hoodie. Wesley buries one hand in Jamie's hair, and cups his face with the other, pushing the smaller of the boys against a wall.

The two break for a second, before Wesley pulls them back in. The two only stop when the elevator dings.

Wesley is the one who pulls away. He smirks at Jamie, and the two walk back into the apartment.

They find Eden sitting on the floor outside the bathroom. His eyes are closed, and his head is leaning against the door. Eden stirs when the others walk in the room. He leans up, nodding at the pair.

"She's not coming out," Eden tells them, as if they hadn't already figured it out. Jamie just nods, while Wesley rolls his eyes.

Wesley leaves Jamie's side, walking up to the door. Suddenly, Jamie feels as if he is floating in the air. It's as if gravity just disappeared, and there is nothing for him to hold on to.

The taller boy puts his hand up against the door, listening in. On the other side, he hears nothing, which is more frightening than the idea of hearing Cara weep. "Open the door or I will pick the lock."

Wesley has no idea how to pick a lock, but he also knows that Cara doesn't know that. Once in a blue moon, his rough image is his greatest advantage. Just as he expected, the door slowly creeps open.

Cara faces the three men. They are crowded around her, and she almost hates the attention as much as the humiliation. Instead of focusing on Eden next to her, she focuses on Wesley. There are bags beneath his red eyes, and she imagines that he wants nothing more than the sweet release of sleep.

"We need a plan to deal with Hope," Cara begins. She turns to Jamie, behind them. "She needs supervision. Regardless of if she was trying to kill herself or not, she could get us all caught. Who knows what the government will do with us if they figure out what we can do?"

"I can keep her here," Jamie offers, a polite smile on his face. "Tomorrow is the first day in like, three years that I've had off from both my jobs. It's crazy, but it means I'm free. I can watch her."

"We should take turns," Cara corrects him. Jamie is sweet, but sooner or later he is going to burn out. As an overachieving student, Cara can see anguish and exhaustion lining Jamie's face. "You can take her for the morning, but someone else should have her in the afternoon. I'm busy but-"

"I've got her," Eden speaks quickly. Not just because he wants to impress Cara (although that is most of the reason) but because he thinks she deserves some time to rest after this debacle. Only after he volunteers does he think about what spending time with June actually entails. His stomach churns.

Cara nods. She needs at least six hours tomorrow to clear her mind and study without thinking about the FBI and June. Maybe she'll even spend some time at a café, where she can find the space to breathe.

"We'll figure the rest out later, with Erik and maybe Percy," Wesley adds, looking over at the bedroom the pair share. He feels bad for excluding Lee and Hope, but how can he trust June with them when they both are somehow less able to function then Erik?

Cara nods, though her mind is distracted. Though she feels anxious for the days to come, she nods. "It's all settled then."

Though the night is not settled for him, Eden nods. A day reserved for time between him and June is a day where the earth might come crashing down. After all, she says he knows his secret, which means that girl has more power over him than anything else.

Though the night is not settled for him, Jamie nods. He keeps looking at Wesley, waiting for him to mention the kiss. Was that all it was or is there more to come between the two of them. Right now is not the time for romance, when will be?

After all the chaos and the blood and the kisses of the night, Wesley is happy that everything is settled.

~~~~~~~~~~

So, I've been aggressively sick all week, so much so that I couldn't see. Now I have glasses!

Was that crazy or what? Who do you think will kill next?

I'll see you soon.