A new story with Hunter and everything else unfinished, I know. So sue me. I'll try to keep this one from wandering off and beating around the bush. It was fun writing it, so I hope you have fun reading it and won't kill me for writing this. I wanted to try something new...

Disclaimer: Characters belong to Tamora Pierce. Plot's half mine. I think.

This idea popped out at random yesterday; I know it'll be extremely weird to read. It's very different, I should warn you, especially Alanna's "profession". Oh, and the world I'm writing would be modern Tortall. It's an empire now the way I'm planning it in my head, by the way.

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"So...tell me again how the world's supposed to revolve when it's flat?" I continued to sip on my orange soda, waiting for a reply.

"I'm telling you—that's what Malven thought! He was actually giving Myles a reason to launch into one of those weird Universal-Buddha lectures." My brother rolled his eyes and tipped his chair back so that it was supported only by the back two legs. "And this is Malven we're talking about. He doesn't think. And especially doesn't argue points of the universe with our Psychology teacher. And what does religion have to do with Psychology, anyway?"

Empty air entering my mouth informed me that my drink was now empty. Swishing it around some more, I heard the clicking of ice against the side of the cheap McDonald's cup. "Plenty," I replied matter-of-factly. "Religion is thought. Thought plays a big part in Psychology, Thom." I set the cup down.

He snorted and leaned back further. I sighed. Boys. I would never understand them. Someone needed to write a book on their thoughts...maybe a certain Psychology teacher whom my brother happened to dislike. It was strange talking to him after being apart for a whole year, but it was worth it. Thom is a literal genius, you see. He's been done with college for around six years. I just got out last year. I stood up to throw the empty container in the nearby garbage dispenser. "You're going to fall if you keep on doing that," I informed him, giving him a small pat on the back as I passed him.

"As if." Just then, a group of rowdy elementary school boys ran past. The momentum was enough to unbalance the chair, throwing my dear twin onto the floor. Faces turned towards them from all over the fast food joint.

Hah! Didn't I tell him? It was one of the few circumstances where I was right and he was wrong. I fought to hide a smirk and giggle, but it was too much to resist. "I told you so."

He shot me a glare from his seat on the floor. "Shut up."

A State of Mind
Chapter One : Father's Daughter
by Reaya

I shrugged, brushing back a few strands of coppery hair from my face and frowned. It was getting quite long, nearing my waist, actually. I'd have to cut it soon. "Are you going to get up? Or do you like it down there?"

"The view's nice," he commented, gaze having fallen on a nearby stereotypical girl who was seated in his line of vision. You don't want to know what he was looking at—but then again, you probably guessed already.

I covered my forehead with a hand, embarrassed for him. "You're a perv, Thom, you know that?"

"Hey, you would be too if you'd attended an all boys school."

I let another long sigh escape. "Not quite. I'm a girl, remember? I couldn't go to an all boys school even if I wanted to." I don't know why Thom played the stupid pervert so much. After all, he was brilliant, wasn't he? Home schooled by Maude since preschool, he had quickly out-learned our old Governess. He was shipped off to a prestigious school at the young age of nine, graduating high school at twelve. He had been out of college when I was still in my Sophomore year. It was easy for him to get a job as CEO of some rich company. But then he dropped that to pursue a Major in psychiatry. Don't ask me why. Insanity runs in our family.

After all, I had been stuck with babysitting our near-crazy archeologist father and being dragged around to out of the way places since I finished college. It was not fun, trust me. Our parents divorced when we were twelve, you see, and seeing as we were twins, and our parents were oh so mature, it was decided who would go with who with a coin toss. I knew I shouldn't have chosen tails...

Either way, I don't think we'd ever been close to our parents. Thom and I only had each other for support since day one. And maybe Coram and Maude, but who confides in one's old nanny (be he male or not) and governess nowadays? Or maybe they do: I wouldn't know. I've never been one to socialize all that much, with dad being dad. All I'm sure of is that Thom and I never did much after Maude told Coram who stole the tarts from cook. So Thom and I were close. My parents and I were not. But someone had to make sure dad didn't kill himself on one of his digs, and I happened to have lost that particular toss. I'm sure that mom used a two-headed coin; figures she wanted the genius instead of the smart aleck. Not that Thom wasn't the latter, too, though.

After a while of contemplating, I got up and dragged him back onto his chair. "So...Thom. Tell me why you're taking classes in my field when you hate it, again?" I guess we were back where we started.

He scrutinized me for a moment. "Your field?"

"Yes, the whole psychiatry thing, you know. Me as in psychiatrist?" Guess we weren't as close as I thought. Or maybe Thom was getting even more scatterbrained than before. Geniuses tend to drift in that direction though, I find. At least in all the movies, anyway. "I don't think psychiatry fits all that much with...engineering, or whatever you're taking."

He blanched. "You're a Psychiatrist? I thought you'd always end up some kind of athlete, or something, the way you were going in school." He punched his hand. "So that's why I didn't find your name in the Sports section!"

"Great, Thom, real corny." But I was shocked—Thom really didn't know what I had been taking in college after all these years? He had been at my graduation last year for God's sake! "But seriously, you didn't know?"

"I had no idea. Never bothered to keep tabs on you after I became part of that company, you know. Too busy and all."

I nodded slowly, hiding my hurt. "I guess..."

"Mithros, Alanna, I never wanted to be apart of it. I hated psychiatry, you know that. And I threw a fit when Old Man Grouch—grandfather—managed to slip that into my courses. I was jealous that you were free to do what you liked. " He shook his head resignedly. "I guess they all thought you'd be like mom and—" He broke off. Remember when I said insanity ran in my family? Well, I was being quite literal. Mom, our real one, had to go into a mental home after our birth. I hear she was quite a renowned psychiatrist before that. It was also the reason our father went somewhat over the edge, too, after her death, and began burying himself in his work, necessarily or not. He did manage to remarry after that, for our good more over anything else. Mom—the step one—never really got along with him. She loved us the best she could, but it wasn't much.

"It's okay, Thom. We don't have to talk about her now." We lapsed into an awkward silence for some time. "Wait...Mithros? Why are you bringing one of the old Gods into this?"

He looked flustered for a moment, but then laughed. "Always one to note detail, aren't you, even when it isn't necessary? After all, I hear you say 'Goddess' quite a few times yourself." That wasn't really true. I think. At least the former hadn't been, I couldn't deny the latter much. I had been the more outgoing, more athletic one who didn't get the best grades or notice the small things. That had been him. I think.

A beeping sound startled both of us, as we had gone quiet again. "Mine," Thom answered quickly and checked his pager. "Another company wanting me for CEO...I'm supposed to attend some board meeting even though I'm not really apart of it. I'm sorry to break this short, but I'm going to have to get out of here before grandpa's men find me—"

I knew what company he was talking about. "Of course I understand. Go on." He gave me an apologetic smile and hurried out the doors. I stared wistfully at his retreating back before sighing and gathering my jacket to leave, too. There were things I that could never return to normal. I didn't really know Thom anymore. He had changed so much over the years. Sure, he attended my graduation, but that was only for the first five minutes. Other than that, I hadn't seen him for years.

He didn't know how badly I wanted the job he so carelessly refused. It wasn't that I didn't know him—it was the other way around. He didn't know me. He didn't know how much I wanted to please grandpa.

Before I lose all track of sense, I'd better explain. That company he was CEO at was our Grandfather's. I had been in awe of our stoic relative from the only time we'd seen him at the age of five. Even then he brushed me aside. I even got that psychiatry degree to get him to notice me. As the father of our deceased parent, he loved his only grandchildren dearly. At least the male one, anyway. Only a male heir could carry on the company, he proclaimed, but Thom flat-out refused. Grandpa didn't like me, you see, seeing as I was a Girl, so I was left unnoticed. No, there was no possibility of me going there. None at all.

So why did I still try so hard? To prove myself? Why? Because in this society, males still dominated even with all the advancements.

-

The apartment was dark when I arrived later that night. Very dark. This wasn't good. I sighed, hoping dad wasn't trying one of his strange experiments in my room, because every time that happened, he would mess up something then decide to go to bed early he wouldn't have to watch me get mad. My temper wasn't all that great.

But tonight seemed different. Flicking on the lights in the miniscule kitchen, I discarded the grocery bags on the counter and headed for my room, hoping whatever disaster had been caused there could be easily fixed. As it turned out, I shouldn't have. As soon as my lights were turned on, I winced.

The once neat room was now a mess. I hadn't had a chance to unpack all of this week since we arrived back from Africa , but it didn't seem as if I had to anymore. My clothes and possessions were strewn all over the room. What caught my eye was an empty iron fame; the glass that had once covered a picture had been littered, broken on the ground. I paled. The frame had held a picture of my mother. I hoped what I thought happened hadn't really happened.

I dropped the shards I had picked up and ran towards dad's room. "Dad?" I called out, voice wavering. There was no response, not even the usual muffled moving of an elderly man trying to get out of trouble my feigning sleep and squirming deeper into his blankets. I turned on yet another light. A large lump made the blankets bulge out in a humanoid form. I let out my breath in relief. A bit too soon as it turned out. When I approached, I noticed that it was only a bunch of pillows stuffed under the blanket in a convincing form. I bit my lower lip; this was not good.

My father being my father and slightly insane, and me having graduated out of psychiatry, I had learned that the way my father coped with the reality of my mothers death was that he didn't. Instead, he covered all thoughts of her with his obsession of digging up old artifacts. Buried in his studies, he managed to push everything related out of his mind, even us. Unfortunately, any physical proof of her could and did trigger the other part of him that was really insane. The few times he came out of it was disaster, except for once. That once he remembered us and found himself his second wife. Unfortunately, he also tried to kill himself on the wedding night after seeing a picture of mom while digging through the attic. That most likely was the first step of many leading to the divorce.

But after that, all pictures of her were destroyed or confiscated. With the exception of the one I had, of course.

The full realization of it all hit me and I fled the room. I scoured the apartment for him, but he wasn't there. I was at a loss. The most obvious thing for him to do was to return to the last place he had seen his first wife, but that was an asylum in near what was once Scanra, but now part of the empire that was Tortall. But that wasn't possible.

I racked my brain for a place that I hadn't searched. My intuition told me he was near. Then it dawned upon me—the balcony. The asylum had told us that she had died by jumping off a balcony; would dad have done the same? Dropping all thought, I dashed to check the balcony in my room. Not there. I peered over the iron bars fearfully, afraid that he might have jumped already.

I was chewing my lip rather forcefully. A trickle of blood oozed out into my mouth, and I could taste the strange flavor seeping out. I swallowed hard and went back in, headed for the back balcony of the apartment. The darker one which I had always avoided ever since I bought this place for us to stay in a year back. My breathing grew heavy as I neared; it was as if I knew what to expect there. Fear constricted my chest when I saw the opened door.

Anticipation made me freeze. There was nothing there, absolutely nothing. Gingerly, I stepped onto the cold concrete of the balcony floor. My eyes scanned the glowing lights of city for clues. I found none. Again I looked over the wrought iron fence, hopping no one had jumped off of there recently. But my father couldn't have. He wasn't strong enough to haul himself over it to complete the deed.

I turner around, sweeping the walls of the house. There against the wall, hanging from a rope wound around a flag poll was my father.

-

I don't know what my first memory was. Once, during a particularly laborious psychology class, we were told to search our minds and pen down the first real picture we had of life; our first memory. I was one of the few who couldn't, and I told our teacher so. To my surprise, he had beamed at me and told me that I had answered correctly. Confused, I asked for an explanation.

He didn't reply. Instead, he told us about the complexity of the human mind and what it could make one do when triggered by certain things or events, seen or unseen. I left that class still confused, wondering what was the point in asking us to find our first memory and then ignoring that by giving us a speech about Psychological thought.

I still don't fully grasp it, such is the complexity of Psychology and I don't think I ever will. But I understand it a bit more now. Each thing that had happened to me led to who and what I am today. As I child, I only had my twin for comfort. But Thom was a boy, and even he didn't understand everything I went through. We had Maude and Coram to take care of us, and while they loved us, they couldn't possibly bring us up normally. Memories of dad were limited, but hovering always on the edge of everything I did.

Thom adored Maude for what she had to teach in academic knowledge. I loved Coram for what he taught me athletically and what to do in my self defense. But not so much as I loved my father for teaching me—or rather, not teaching—everything else. It made me grow up and learn by myself. But at the same time, I hated him for it. I hated him with a deep, constricting fury. Just as he blamed us for mom going over the edge and then her suicide, I blamed him for the same thing. I never knew what Thom thought, he was too much into his studies to care, just as father was doing.

But at the age of nine, when Thom's genius was discovered by father, chaos had erupted in the house. I think he reminded dad of mom. Thom hated him for stopping his advanced studies. It was only with the interception of our new 'mom' that he was allowed to continue at the pace he was. So off he went to that school of his, and I was left all alone. We grew apart after that, slowly but surely.

Our grandfather's interest didn't help things, either. He visited us once, on our fifth birthday, but all his attention had been on Thom. He didn't care that his daughter had died at all--after all, she had been female and insane. He was just happy that he at last had an heir to continue his company after him. Idolizing heroes as I was back then, I don't know why I chose grandpa of all people. I suppose it had something to do with the young boy he had brought with him, who idolized him in the same way. I wanted to be just like that blue-eyed stranger. He was eight to my five, you see, and was one of the few older children who even took notice of me. Over the length of the visit, I guess I found myself copying him and soon I was following my grandfather's every word and action with revered awe as well.

How stupid of me. Later I learned who he really was, and I gave up all hope of my puppy crush. Thom had made fun of me anyway, so it wasn't so hard. But my idolization for the old man continued. He was rich, successful, and respected even in old age. I've never grown out of it, even though I've tried my hardest to. I couldn't understand why Thom brushed him off so easily. Thom. There was someone I would really never understand, regardless of how I convinced myself otherwise. Today at McDonald's had just proven my point.

And so it was McDonald's that was first on my mind when returned to the land of the conscious. I wrinkled my nose, wondering why my brother had chosen that place for our visit. I opened my eyes and blinked as bright light shone into them. I pushed myself into a sitting position, wondering why in the world I was lying in a bed at the hospital.

"You're awake," a smiling nurse greeted me. What? Oh yes, I remembered. I fainted after seeing what remained of my father's suicide attempt. No offense to her, but the smile sort of made me want to puke. Who could be so happy in a place that stank of sterilized everything to wash away the smell of death?

"What happened?" I asked dumbly. I don't think dad's death had fully registered in my mind yet. "What am I doing here?"

The smile didn't waver. "Your neighbor found the door left open to your father's apartment and you unconscious near the balcony. Outside..." She trailed off unsure if she should continue; her over bright smile fell a notch.

I stared at her as irrelevant thoughts ran through my mind. Like a former teacher had taught me, I waited for it to catch up to speed after a shock. It didn't take long. "H-He killed himself, didn't he?"

She nodded slowly. "Our doctors have confirmed that it was suicide, but the officers still want to...um, interrogate you."

I nodded. The procedures were standard after a suicidal death, but my father killed himself. "Excuse me, can you direct me to the restrooms?" I lifted a hand to my mouth as a wave of nausea overcame me.

"You really shouldn't be moving after that shock." Why was this nurse so dense? "You really should call any relatives that are—"

"I have a cell," I snapped irritably, trying to keep what little I had eaten earlier in.

She glanced at me nervously, finally realizing. "Oh. Well, um, if you really need to they're down the hall. Take a right at the waiting room there, then a left, and—" I didn't bother to stay and listen to the complete instruction. I wanted out. Now.

On my way I had to ask for instructions from two other nurses and stop a rushing surgeon, but I made it there in time. Coughing, I ran the tap over my hand and splashed my face. I still couldn't believe it. I imagined what Thom might say. Knowing him, it would most likely be along the lines of 'so the old man finally kicked the bucket?'

I sighed. I was most likely still numb from the original shock, but I would be feeling it all soon. Best to inform everyone before I went slightly insane myself. I dialed the first number that came to mind and exited the room, waiting for an answer. It didn't take long.

"Hello?" The voice was completely unfamiliar. I wondered who I called.

"Uh, Hi," I said, sounding extremely lame.

"Who's it?"

Whoever it had had a nice voice, I had to admit, even if they're grammar wasn't the best. "Alanna," I replied stupidly.

"Ah," the voice replied. His tone was the one of a babysitter's took on when humoring a young child. "Alanna who?"

"Uh, Trebond." There was a lull on the other end. "Uh, hello?" I must have sounded very intelligent.

"Are you one of Mr. Greensward's grandchildren?" I flinched. So that's who I called. Of all the people I could have dialed I had to remember grandpa's number best. How much stupidity did I have left in me?

"Yes," I squeaked. "Can I talk to him?"

"Yes, of course," he responded. "Hold on a sec." What kind of secretary of grandpa's used that kind of lingo? Every time I tried calling they had all been females with voices like nails on a chalkboard using the most formal language ever to exist. I checked my watch. There was no way he would be back in the next fifteen minutes. It was always that way whenever I called. He never replied.

I heard the sound of the other phone being picked up. I was surprised. He had returned in under two minutes. "Hey, you still there?"

I nodded, but then remembered he couldn't see. "Uh, yeah."

"Well, Mr. Greensward can't answer right now, so do you mind if I just gave you his answer?"

"Yes. I mean, no."

He chuckled softly. "He wants to know you're answer."

"My answer?"

"Your answer," he reconfirmed. "So are you accepting the job or what?"

Job? I frowned, confused. "Sure, I guess."

"Great. He's been waiting for that all week. Hey, did you call for anything other than that?"

"Uh, yeah." I seemed to be saying 'uh' an awful lot today. Plus, I think I sounded like a sick cow just then. "Could you tell him that his son-in-law just died? Thanks—" I broke of quickly and ended the call, slumping back against the wall. Then I froze. He must have told grandpa that one of his grandchildren called, and grandpa must have assumed I was Thom. If that was so, I'd just accepted the position for him. Thom was not going to be happy.

An hour later I had finished all the mandatory calls. Mom, Coram and Maude were on their way, but Thom had only snorted and commented as expected ("So he finally kicked the bucket, huh? About time, too—No way I'm attending the funeral. Nine years stuck with him was enough—Whatever, Alanna. No, I'm not going to take that job either. I'm transferring to the Carthaki branch this week—").

Was I in trouble or what? A small pounding settled in my head and I knew everything was finally really catching up to me. But I didn't want to think about death and suicide just yet. I could become depressed later. Plus, the constant hum of the machinery didn't help as it scratched my already raw nerves.

I gave a small groan and pushed myself to a sitting position. I stayed there for a few seconds before rushing off to the bathroom again. I stared at the mirror. I looked even more like hell than earlier. Goddess, when was Maude supposed to come again? I tried to smooth down my wild locks with some water, but it didn't work so well. After fifteen minutes of trying, I gave up and slinked dejectedly back to the waiting room.

A elderly woman in her late forties welcomed me. "Maude!"

"Hello, Alanna. How is he?" Not for the first time, I leaned on her and cried long and hard. I never like dad much, but he had always been there, sane or insane, good or bad.

-

First the police took me aside to ask me some questions, by the interrogation didn't last long. The hospitals had been monitoring dad for some while now, noticing as his level of sanity as it slowly trickled away. That and the evidence they had gotten from the apartment and his corpse, was more than enough to prove suicide.

The funeral the next day was kept short and small. I saw tears in my stepmother's eye and finally understood that she had really loved him, even if he had gone a bit too far to love her back after that one time. My eyes stayed dry, most likely because I saw her tears. After the reception, what little people there had been left quietly. I didn't talk. Finally, Coram and mom left, he to drive her, I think. Only Maude remained.

She held me close, comforting me. "You remind me of your mother, Alanna—your real one. She was strong, just like you. She listened day and night, trying to help other people with their problems, even at the sacrifice of her own happy life."

"No," I replied quietly. "I don't want to be like mom. She ditched her life for others, and that's what drove her off the edge." I stifled a small sob wanting to make it's way out.

"Of course, Alanna," my former governess soothed. "I'll stay right here until you feel better."

I nodded. It was something she always did. "I'm more like father," I breathed. "Thom's the one like mother."

"Of course," she continued in that soothing tone of hers. But after I had stumbled across my realization, I didn't feel so down anymore. But I felt just as guilty.

"Maude?"

"Yes, dear?"

"I'd like to confess something..." My voice wavered and I ducked my head to stare at the ground.

I didn't see her reaction, but I heard a small intake of breath. "Tell me, Alanna." Her voice seemed strained now, for some reason.

"Earlier, when I called grandpa, I accidentally accepted Thom's job offer," I blurted quickly. I think I heard Maude sight in relief. I stared at her "What did you think I did?"

She smiled and shook her head. "Depressed young men and women often do things regretful, but I'm glad you're not one of them." I frowned. What did she mean—oh. Did she really think I'd stoop so low as to kill my own father, then pass it for suicide? I sighed, but she continued, a grin on her face. "And don't over worry yourself about your grandfather, I'll fix everything up."

Standing up, she motioned for me to do the same. "Come stay at my place for a while until everything's settled. Your father doesn't have much left after the bills to the hospital and everything else are paid. Your wealth all came from your mother's side, you know..." I did. And grandpa still had most of it. "But we're going to make the best of it. I was going to help you find a job, but I see you've stumbled across one yourself."

I looked at her expectantly. "I have?"

"Yes, you just confessed to me." She looked a bit resigned, now. "I've known your grandfather for a long time, Alanna. He's a good man, regardless of what Thom may think. I know you look up to him, don't try to hide it. You care for people. You like to help them, no matter how you try to hide it. You were made to create things, not tear them down. Leave that to the other people.

And no matter how much your grandfather hides it, he's getting on in his years. So much that he is confined in one place so that his arthritis will not bother him as much. He was so...joyful when he found out Thom had been born. There was never an heir for the Company. But Thom rejected his offers, and he went back to his old self. He's a grouch, I know that. But I did call him after you called me, and he sounded so much more alive than I'd heard him in years!

What I'm telling you is this. While you're grandfather's life lasts, go in Thom's place."

My mouth dropped open, staring at who I had once known as a proper, tradition-bound governess. "W-What? But I can't go; he wouldn't accept me anyway, I'm not a boy." I'm not Thom.

Maude waved that aside. "That's why I'm going to try my hardest to make you play the part. You'd like that, wouldn't you? You always played the part of the tomboy when you were younger, so this shouldn't be so hard. After all, you and Thom tried switching places more than once, didn't you? Well, now I'm giving you full permission to do it."

I stared at her in shock for at least five minutes. "Would you?" I finally managed to squeeze out. "Could I? Without being caught?" I didn't want to think of anyone's reaction—most of all my grandpa's and Thom's—when they found out...if they found out. I was beginning to like this idea more and more. I smiled faintly; it was my first smile since yesterday.

I ran my fingers through my hair. "This would have to be cut, wouldn't it?"

~ ◊ ~

I had more fun writing that than anything else in a long time. Hope you like it and forgive me for not updating my other fics. Alanna majoring in psychiatry? Don't look at me...

Next chapter coming in about two weeks (May 1st or 2nd), sooner with a bit of time and some luck. Chapter Two called: Think Like a Woman, Act Like a Man...