God I feel liek i haven't published anything in ages....CP and APs have been such a struggle...but they're over now! :D

anywho. sorry for teh wait~enjoy!

Ch. 2


After they had finished their relay, the team packed up and headed back to the bus. They had managed to final in the relay, but only barely.

"Do you have a spare suit or something?" Martie's coach looked concerned as they walked back to the bus.

Shaking her head, Martie had to bite her lip to keep the tears from spilling over. She had worked her entire life for this, had woken up at 4:30 in the mornings during the summer to get as good as she was, and now her state meet was going to be ruined because her suit tore!

"Hey Martie" Alice had an arm slung around her friend's shoulder, "Look. I have a spare suit. It's a practice suit, but it's brand-new, so there shouldn't be that much drag."

"They're also selling suits at the meet" one girl piped up, "They're selling fastskins too…you could get one!"

"I don't have the money"

"Oh…" the girl looked crestfallen, "I'm sorry." She said lamely before hurrying ahead.

They returned to the hotel, where Alice met her mother. "Promise to get you something, ok?" she said, as she was leaving the hotel room, throwing one last look over at her friend who lay moping on the bed.

"Yea…thanks"

Alice left, shutting the door behind her, and Martie stared at the ceiling. While she knew using a fastskin wasn't necessarily vital to the meet, it did shave off a few milliseconds… At the level Martie was competing at, milliseconds could make the difference between first and third. It wasn't fair. She scowled at the ceiling, her stomach churning in anger. If her father hadn't left, she would probably be able to afford splurging on a swim suit…she didn't spend money extravagantly, and this was important to her.

But he wasn't here was he? That bastard…he probably had a nice family, with a beautiful wife and kids somewhere else. Martie and her mother hadn't been good enough for him. Growling, she punched the pillow, pretending it was her father's face. While she had no idea what the man looked like, she could imagine it. Her mother had described him before, "He looked a lot like you…beautiful blonde hair, bright blue eyes, and a brilliant smile…"

Well. He certainly didn't look like that anymore, Martie decided savagely. He might have been handsome when he was younger, but he had aged. So he was now some fat, balding worthless pig, whose beautiful wife had to work to support. He probably just sat on his fat ass all day, eating and drinking. Grinning wickedly, Martie nodded to himself. Yes. He would be ugly and old.

Feeling slightly better after thoroughly beating the pillow and degrading her father's mental image, Martie sat up, deciding to watch some TV while Alice was out. She stood, and had just grabbed the remote when a loud knocking came from the door.

"Coming…" she called, dragging herself over to the door. Expecting to see Coach or one of the other swimmers, Martie was substantially surprised when the door opened to reveal one of the hotel staff workers.

"Can I help you?" she asked, looking rather nonplussed. She hadn't been noisy or anything, so why would a hotel guy be here?

"Ah. Martha Hamilton?" the man asked, smiling pleasantly.

"Yep. That's me"

"This came for you." He said, holding out a box, "Someone came to the front desk and dropped it off, requesting we give it to you."

"Oh." Martie took the box, feeling slightly confused. Who was it from? It was a plain, cardboard box with no indication as to who had sent it. Shrugging she thanked the hotel guy and closed the door. Crossing over to the bed, she tore the tape off the box and opened it. Inside, there was a card and some wrapping paper. Martie grabbed the card, and opened it. There was a short note written inside, scrawled in a rather messy, almost childish handwriting.

Martha. Saw what happened at the meet, and am really sorry about it. Here's something that should cheer you up.

The card was not signed, and as Martie turned it over, frowning slightly, she could find no indication as to who had sent it. Shrugging, she dropped it next to her on the bed, and moved the wrapping paper inside.

She stared at the object that lay at the bottom of the box for a few seconds, her mind not really processing what she was looking at, then reached forward, her hands shaking, and lifted the object out of the box.

Holding it at arm's length, Martie gaped for a few seconds, before standing up, rushing to Coach's room, and pounding frantically on the door. There was a slight pause, and then the door swung open, "Martie?" he looked rather confused, "What are you doing here?"

"Someone sent me this" she said, holding the object up, her voice shaking.

"My god" he said, his face rapidly transforming from confused to shock, "That's a…"

"A Speedo LZR racer elite" Martie nodded, as Coach took the suit from her, "I…I have no idea who sent this…"

"These aren't even on the market yet!" Coach exclaimed, looking dumbfounded, "I mean, the Speedo LZR racers are, but FINA banned them. These suits are expensive, like what? 500 dollars? And if it's not on the market yet…you've got friends in high places, Martie. This is terrific though."

"I know…" Martie said, grinning, "Damnit, I just wish I knew who sent it…I'd at least like to thank them."

Taking the suit back from her coach, Martie headed back to her room, holding it as if it were some sort of treasure.

"Hey where've you been?" Alice greeted Martie as she walked into the room, "Just got back from shopping…I found a really cute bag I thought you might like!"

"Look" Martie responded, thrusting the suit into her friend's face.

"Oh my god!" Alice squealed, grabbing the suit, "How…how…you said you were poor!"

"I didn't buy it!" Martie protested, "Someone sent it to me!"

"Who!"

"I don't know. There was nothing attached to it…no card, nothing."

"Do you have the card?"

"Yes…why. Oh no" Martie shook her head, seeing the too-familiar gleam in her friend's eyes, "No…no, don't go CSI or whatever on this…"

"It's not CSI" Alice protested, sniffing slightly, "It's an art. A science. Now, give me that card."

"No way."

"I said give it!"

Ever since they were young children, Alice had always had an obsession with mystery and crime. In elementary school, it was Scooby-Doo. In middle school, Sherlock Holmes. Now it was one of the many TV crime shows. However, Alice didn't stop at obsessing over imaginary mysteries. She went after real ones too. Her free time was spent pouring over old cold cases, seeing if she could spot something the experts hadn't been able to. On her person, she lugged around some strange forensics-police-y stuff that was beyond Martie as to how it worked.

"You're not analyzing this card!" Martie shook her head, refusing to tell Alice where it was. However, the other girl, knowing Martie too well, instantly dived under the bed, where Martie had dropped the card. "Ah-ha!" she cried, emerging triumphant, "Now gimme a sec."

Groaning, Martie slumped onto the bed, leaving Alice to her own devices. Almost 15 minutes later, Alice finally straightened up from where she had been hunched over the card, on the desk.

"There's not much to say…" Alice confessed, "This was written at a McDonald's with a simple black, ball point pen. A right-handed governmental official, or worker at least, wrote this, and in a hurry if I may say so myself…other than that, I got nothing."

"I'm sure that helps me. There are tons of right-handed men who eat at McDonalds' and uses ball point pens. Thanks a lot." She frowned as she took the letter, "Wait…how do you know it was written at McDonald's? And a government worker?"

"There's a huge-ass grease stain on it. The grease is signature to McDonald's…you know, each fast-food restaurant has a different grease stain. As for the government part, well there's a water-mark on it…" Alice muttered, frowning slightly, "Who would send this to you?"

"I've got no idea"

"A long-lost uncle?"

"They're all dead…everyone on my mom's side is dead…and my dad's side." Martie broke off, shrugging.

"Hmm…well then who?"

"I don't know!"

"Ah!" Alice sat up, her eyes sparkling, "The stranger! That blonde dude!"

"Ummm…"Martie stared at her friend, "You know that makes no sense whatsoever. I've never met the guy before, he's never seen me, so why would he spend 500 bucks on me?"

"True…" Alice sighed, "Ah well, whatever. You've got a kick-ass swimsuit, and we are going to destroy the other swimmers tomorrow!"

"Sure thing." Martie smiled, nodding.


The next day was finals. After warm up, it took a team effort to get Martie into her new suit. "Alright!" Alice yelled, holding one side of the suit while another swimmer held another, "PULL!"

There were grunts, cries, and finally, finally….

They had gotten the suit up to her waist.

"I hate this thing" Martie said, glaring at the suit, which, after fifteen minutes of straining, was only halfway on.

"Well, it's easier from this point out!" Alice reminded her friend cheerfully, "Now c'mon. Just a little more…"

They struggled for another fifteen minutes, and finally managed to get the suit into place, "This is tight" Martie managed to get out, lifting up her arms and stretching.

"Makes you go faster. Now c'mon. Let's go get 'em"


It was a good meet. Well-rested from their tapers, the entire team was swimming best times. After her 200 free relay, Martie had a rather long break, so she headed out into the lobby to grab something to eat.

She had just bought a power bar and was heading back into the pool area when a shock of blonde hair caught her eye. Turning, she saw the strange man from yesterday. He was standing in the corner alone, wearing a t-shirt and jeans again, but this time with a large, old leather jacket that looked like it belonged in WWII draped over his arm. It was an old jacket, Martie noted, probably an antique from the man's grandfather or something of the sort.

She didn't know why exactly she did what she did next. Pretending to be interested in the poster on the wall next to the man, she sidled over to him, throwing a quick glance at him over her shoulder. On closer inspection, he appeared quite young, perhaps in his early twenties at latest, and was talking hurriedly on his cell.

"Look. I can't. I'm at my daughter's swim meet!"

He sounded rather agitated, Martie mused, pretending to read the poster with great interest.

"Well I'm sorry. Yea. She just finished swimming. 200 free. Yea, she did great." Martie scowled slightly. So the girl had swum in the same event as her? Well there were only eight girls in the finals, meaning that this guy's kid must have been pretty good.

"…no."

There was a sharp change in tone in the man's voice, bringing Martie out of her thoughts. Shifting slightly, she strained her ears to catch the man's conversation as his voice had dropped in volume, "I said no. I've missed out on nearly her entire life. Give me this one thing. I don't care if my boss needs me now, Mattie, I'm just asking to be there for one thing!"

As his voice dropped even further, Martie could no longer hear the entire conversation, but rather snippets of it, "…don't care…national…yea…security…doesn't know…"

Finally, the man hung up, and straightened, running a hand through his hair. Martie didn't move from where she was standing, pretending to be too engrossed in the poster to notice the way he seemed to start as he saw her standing so close, before hurrying out of the lobby. Once he had left, Martie frowned. What the hell? Since when did she start eavesdropping on people! Nonetheless, she glared at the poster, a small frown settling over her features. That was one lucky girl. If her father was willing to screw his boss to watch her swim meet…Martie sighed. She had never had a father, so why start pining for one now? Unwrapping the power bar, she took a bite before heading back into the pool area.


The bus ride home from state took about four hours, and at a little past midnight, the team finally pulled up into the school parking lot, exhausted but happy. Martie had already called her mother and was waiting in the bus loop for her ride.

"We can totally give you a ride, you know" Alice had offered, stretching as she got off the bus, "It's no biggie."

"Nah" Martie shook her head, "We don't live that far from school. Plus, my mom's already on her way."

As if to prove Martie's point, her mom's car pulled into the bus loop, and old, off-white mini-van. Giving her friend a hug, Martie threw her duffle bag into the trunk of the car before clambering into the shotgun.

"How was the meet?" Martie's mom asked as she started up the car and pulled out of the lot.

"Awesome" Martie said, grinning, "I got a kick-ass surprise, I'll have to show it to you when we get home. Oh, and there was this strange dude we saw, and- LOOK OUT!"

They had been sitting at an intersection, waiting for the light to turn green when a large pickup truck came speeding up to the light. It was swerving dangerously, swaying side to side, and as Martie watched, the car seemed to finally loose whatever control it had, barreling out of its lane and into Martie's car. There was a terrible crash, the sound of glass shattering, and as Martie finally realized what was happening, a sudden whiteness exploded before her eyes, and a terrible pain, as if she had been punched in the face sent her reeling backwards into the chair, even as her body was thrown forward. Her seatbelt, holding her down, managed to restrain her, and for a few seconds, Martie simply laid there as screams and more crashes resounded around her. There was a distinct, burning pain in her leg, as well as a few smaller pains throughout her body and the blossoming pain over her eyes. As Martie lay there, her brain trying to process the information, she was able to draw two conclusions. First, she had been in a car accident. Second, she was still alive.

Wincing slightly, she reached down to undo the seatbelt, pull away the white airbags that had exploded around her. Her eyes were watering, and she couldn't see very well, but from what she could see, it was bad. The truck had crashed into the side of the driver's side of the car, obscuring half the vehicle from Martie's view.

Mom. The word flashed across her brain, and instantly, a nagging fear seemed to overcome her, "Mom?" she called out. There was no response, and instantly, the fear grew to panic. "Mom? MOM!"

Desperately, she raked at the airbags, pulling them out of the way. The metal of the car had been crushed in, and as she pounded at it, her knuckles and fingers bleeding as she scratched at the metal, her fear seemed to bubble over, clawing at her throat and overwhelming her. "MOM! MOM MOM!"

She was crying now, tears flowing over and mixing with blood as she tried to move the metal. There were some sounds outside, sirens, and she could hear faintly, a car door opening. "There's someone in here!" Strong arms grabbed her around the waist, and as she struggled to get back to the metal, hauled her out of the car.

"Whoa there. You're gonna be alright, girl. C'mon…stop kicking."

"NO! STOP! MOM! MOM!" she struggled against the arms, trying to get back to the burning wreck, "MOM! MOMM! LEMME GO!"

"Calm down! C'mon…she's hysterical."

Some more arms helped lift her up, and she was laid down on a white gurney. A jarring pain shot through her leg and she winced, jerking her head back. Everything was blurred together, a giant mess. Faces melted together…voices whirled about her. Mom. A single thought kept trailing through her head Oh God, mom…please. Please be alright…you're all I have…please please…mom, I can't live without you…sickness seemed to rise in her stomach, You're all I have left…mom…please…don't you dare leave me…

The pain in her leg overwhelmed her and with one last gasp, she slipped into unconsciousness.


Case anyone was wondering, FINA banned the original LZRS and the bumps on the front of fastskins (at state we had to literally cut them all off my friend's suit. soooo stupid) but apparently, the LZR elietes are ok...idk why. -3-