Kuza set his head on my shoulder, murmuring, "I'm sick of being in this bed."

"I know, Baby." I replied, "I wish I could get you out of here. The doctors said it's not safe for you to be up for too long though. They told me when I get back from my trip, they might let me move you back to your own room. It just, um... It depends how you're feeling."

The truth was it depends if he still loves me when he gets all his memories back. I was sitting on the edge of his bed, trying to get in as much time with him as I could before I left. The plane I'm supposed to be taking to Central America is currently running system checks. As soon as it's done, I'm expected to have my ass on board. I don't want to leave right now, but work is work.

"I'm feeling okay now!" He protested, sounding like a kid that was too cute to take seriously.

"Your mind still hasn't fully caught up. You still can't remember the last five years. As soon as you do, though, they'll start easing up. They just want you to be back to yourself before they let you out of here."

"But what if they don't come back?"

I frowned, "Oh, Sweetie, don't think that way. I promise they will. They have no reason not to."

"Ghost," Angelo called for me as he walked into the room, "They're ready for us."

Hesitantly, I stood up. Kuza didn't want to let go of my hand. The feeling was mutual. I leaned down and kissed his forehead. Then I turned my head and kissed his lips. "I promise, I'll be back as soon as possible. It should only take us a few days at most. Josh promised he'd come spend time with you and he's going to make sure even when he's busy, someone else is with you. You won't be alone. Neither of you will be."

I straightened my posture and glanced back at Chris, who was asleep. Angelo could somehow still act like that was his husband. It was, but when he was awake, he was like another person. I guess that's why he always called Ange and angel. He could see the good in anyone. Angelo kissed Chris' forehead, whispering his goodbye. Obviously through all the sedation, he couldn't hear it. Ange did it mostly to comfort himself.

"I love you." I told Kuza, "I have to go now, Baby."

"I know," He squeezed my hand, "I love you too."

He finally let go of me. I could see he was rather unhappy about it. Angelo was waiting on me though. I couldn't stay any longer. Walking away from Kuza was fucking painful. I tried to keep my chin up but there's times where your heart is just too heavy to do so. Ashley was out in the hall, waiting to take our place as babysitters. Before she went in, I gently grabbed her arm and guided her away from the door.

"Listen," I sighed, "Mike can't remember any of his crimes. He literally has no memory of ever killing or hurting anyone. Until we figure out why he's that way, we're not going to tell him. He wants to know why he has memories of being in prison, but you have to promise me you won't tell him."

"I won't. I understand I have to be careful about everything I say, around both of them. What about Chris though? When they let him be awake in the mornings, how do I keep him from telling Mike? He won't listen to me if I tell him not to."

"If you tell him not to, he'll definitely tell him." Angelo grumbled.

"I've already explained everything to Josh. Make sure he's in the room during the times Chris is awake. He'll keep Mike's attention and you can keep Chris'. Whenever there's two people in the room, you can close the curtain between them. It actually upsets Kuza to see Chris the way he is right now." I explained, "If you need anything, text me or Ange."

"I will. I'll make sure I'll give you updates too." She responded.

I hugged Ashley, telling her, "Thank you so much."

"Don't mention it. Have a safe flight."

Ugh, yeah, guess it's time to bite the bullet. Let's hope this is a twenty four hour job. I'd like to get back as quick as possible. Angelo and I headed down to the hangers. Twiggy was supposed to meet us there. I've actually never seen him without Manson for more than a half an hour. They're just always together. You can't think of one without the other. It'll be interesting to see who he is without his bodyguard.

Part of the reason why I chose Angelo and Twiggy to be the ones to accompany me is I wanted to get them alone. They're both ranked as the two most dangerous and untrustworthy members of the group. It seemed like there was no way that could be possible. Normally, Chris or Manson are there to do all the killing for them. It's rare they get the blade in their own hand.

Then, I think back to what Angelo did to Heather. Not to mention the way Twiggy acted in front of dead bodies that same night. For someone that never intended to become a murderer, only fell in love with one, they both could get pretty fucking evil. They're a lot alike, when you think about it. They're quiet, they have protectors, and they fell in love with evil. I'm still not sure what makes them the worst of us all.

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Our flight had to stop in California to let Michael board. Even just being on Los Angeles grounds made me feel... Odd. I had a bit of an inch under my skin. Thankfully he was on the plane as quick as he could be and we could get the fuck out of here. I do love my birthplace but at the same time, there's a reason I left.

Michael ran his hand up my leg as he walked past me. "Hello, Beautiful." He purred. After he poured himself a glass of Scotch, he sat down beside me. "How've you been?"

"I've been better." I replied, "I was just thinking how much I miss Japan."

He chuckled, "I bet you do. The next conference is in Berlin in about eight months, I believe, but I'm sure we could find a different excuse to return to Tokyo."

"It's so beautiful there," I mused, "I'd like to bring Ryan next time I get to go. I know he'd just love to see all the advancements they have there. He spends most his time in a fucking lab."

"Hm, lab rat?"

"No," I smirked, "He's the one poking the lab rats. He used to be a medical scientist for the FBI, but he was running experiments of his own at home. He'd pick up hitchhikers and do experiments on them in his basement. He's a fucking psychopath but I love him."

"He certainly sounds interesting." He said.

"We all are, in our own ways." I gestured towards my two quiet companions, "How rude of me not to introduce the others? This is Twiggy and Angelo."

His tone dropped unhappily, "I know Twiggy. At some point I was leading his case but I handed it over to someone else." He turned his attention to Ange, "You, though, you don't look like a psychopath. So, what's your story?"

"Believe it or not, you're not the first person to tell me I don't look crazy." He joked, "I'm not sure if that's a compliment though. All the best people are crazy. One of which being my husband. Well, boyfriend at the time we were caught. Chris is bi, but women make him lose his mind. He's killed nearly every girlfriend he's had. I loved him enough to help him get away with it. I did three years in Graham for being an accessory to murder. A year after I got out, I helped the others break out."

"He didn't actually kill anyone until after the suicide squad was formed." I said, "That I know of anyways."

Angelo laughed, but he didn't correct me. You know, normal people would say they didn't murder anyone unjustly. Maybe he did kill someone before Graham. Being friends with Kuza and Chris, it would be crazy if he hadn't assisted in at least one of their crimes. It's not like I'm in a position to judge him if he did.

Twiggy seemed uncomfortable with Micheal. I can't blame him, if he was involved in his imprisonment. He's never liked Ryan either because he was forced to torture Manson. I've never been brave enough to ask either parties about that. When Manson mentioned it to me, he made it pretty clear he was still pissed about it. A lot of the things we do, we do enjoy them. Every once and awhile they force us to do things we don't want to. I doubt Ryan wanted to do it but he had no other choice.

"So, do we get a debriefing on this, or are we just going in blind?" I asked.

"Both my agents that have been down there took off the second I told them we were coming down there. They're both pretty shaken. They told me there was a name the locals kept calling this supposed spirit; La Llorona. I did some research on the name. Apparently she's an urban legend in a few counties in Central America. The story differs a little but basically, she drown her baby boy and her little girl for the sake of a man. When the man left her, she killed herself. Now, she roams around looking for her own children and stealing others."

I sighed, "Well, you brought the right person if you were looking for someone to empathize with her."

What I said was pretty off-putting to him. "Are you trying to tell me you killed your kids?"

"No, no. Fuck no, I'm never having kids. But, I had two siblings that were a lot younger than me. When I was a teenager I put them out of their misery." I explained, "I never stole any children but I have poisoned a few."

"You know, I think it's best if I stop asking you questions because your answers scare me." He replied.

I laughed insanely. Then I picked the cherry out of my drink and played with the stem. Micheal took a long sip of his Scotch, keeping a careful eye on me. He may think I'm fucking nuts but I think he'll find in time that I'm rather addicting. Ricky thought at some point that he could get away. Look how that turned out!

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A/N: I've decided to open up dedications again, since it's been over a year, I think. But! There's a catch this time! Go over to my Instagram and comment on my most recent post for a chance for a dedication.

Instagram = NonaHysteria