Chapter Twelve

Larry gasped for air as he sat up and felt something wet and cold on the back of his head. Blood! He had been shot too! "Oh, my Lord; oh, my Lord!" he cried, grabbing the back of his head, but felt instead Bianca's delicate hand holding a damp cloth to his cranium.

"Hey, you have a goose egg on your head, but you'll be fine," she whispered, her voice full of fake happiness. "Balki has a matching bump on his head, but he's with my grandfather right now."

"But what about the others? Jacob, Quinn, Valeena, Alek and that other guy?"

Bianca frowned, tears in her eyes. "Quinn and Valeena were shot, remember? Quinn didn't shoot Valeena but Jacob's gun grazed her, too. Quinn and Valeena are both-"

"Dead?" Larry finished for her, closing his eyes and mentally replaying the sound and image of the gun going off and both Quinn and Valeena falling to the floor. Involuntarily, Larry clutched his stomach. Where was his antacid when he needed it most?

"Jacob is very sick and Alek is-helping him-for some reason. As for Greg, he's pretty distraught. Seems he developed some feelings for Valeena when he saved her life. Larry, Jacob burned down my house and R.O.B. and Wakamaru…" she said, her voice trailing off before she looked away.

Larry glanced around and saw that he was on a bed in one of the rooms, but he and Bianca were the only two in there. "Balki…" he moaned.

"He's in the next room. I'll get him," she said, giving him the cloth to hold and kissing his forehead before leaving the room.

Larry lay back down on the bed and closed his eyes. How he longed to be back home in his apartment, sitting on the couch with Balki. He'd even take listening to Balki's Myposian tales over the reality they were in right now. The only good thing that had come out of this nightmare was the kiss Bianca planted on him after he had pulled her from the hole in the floor. The best part of his dream had come true. An image of Jennifer popped into his mind, but he quickly shooed it and the guilt away as Balki gingerly walked into the room. Larry noticed he was limping a little.

"I twisted my ankle when I got conked on the head," Balki answered before he could ask. "Grandfather Henry say it gonna be okay, though. How are you feeling, Cousin?"

"I'm fine," Larry replied quickly, sitting up. "My head is killing me, though."

Balki sat down next to Larry and placed his head in his hands. "Oh, Cousin, I heard the sad news about Quinn and Bianca's friend Valeena. The holograph came true! She was shot and she died!" Balki cried, biting his quivering lower lip.

Larry placed his arm around his cousin. "I know, Balki. I-I saw it. But Valeena was shot accidentally. Jacob shot Quinn and Valeena just…got in the way."

Balki looked up at Larry, eyes wide. "You saw it? Oh, Cousin, you must've been so scared!"

"No, I was just worried about Bianca," he half-lied. "I was afraid Quinn was going to…never mind. How is her grandfather? I only got to meet him for a second."

"Grandfather Henry is okay. He is upset about Valeena. Greg say that Valeena was the lady at the steakhouse who gave us the gift certificate telling us where Bianca was! I knew I heard that voice somewhere before!"

Larry smiled somewhat as he remembered the odd lady at the cashier's desk. "Valeena seemed like a good friend to Bianca."

Balki nodded and then grabbed his head. "Yes. I second that emotion. Greg, too. He and Grandfather Henry helped you find out what happened to Bianca all those years ago."

Larry lay back down on the bed. "Balki? I'm really tired now. Could you just leave me here for a little while to rest?"

"Okay, Cousin," Balki slowly rose and looked down at him. "Hey, Cousin?"

"What is it, Balki?"

"When can we go home?"

"Why don't you ask Henry or Bianca? The sooner, the better is all I have to say."

"Okay, I will," Balki said.

Larry watched him go and then closed his eyes. And once I get home, I may never leave the apartment again, he thought to himself, feeling a wave of nausea and sadness wash over him.

Greg sat on the bed, his head leaned back against the wall, staring into space. How did he go from being a cowardly apprentice to a gofer to a knight in shining armor to a grieving lovesick fool?

"I know you don't believe me now, but it's going to be okay, son," Henry whispered, sitting down beside him and placing his hand on Greg's shoulder. "I miss her terribly, too."

"I saved her from the fire just so she could get shot and die anyway," Greg laughed bitterly.

"No sense in beating yourself up, Greg. There was nothing you could have done. I will always be grateful to you for watching after B and saving Valeena's life. You have always gone above and beyond for me and it's appreciated. But right now, you need to be strong for B and for Valeena's memory. My granddaughter has no home to go to and she lost her dear friend."

Greg turned to Henry. "She has somewhere to go; she can go live with you now. You're alive and she would love to go crazy with you just like old times."

"I'd love that more than anything, but my life is no refuge for B. She's still so young and I'm no Spring chicken. I'd only be holding her back. I'm glad she's in my life once again, but she needs people closer to her own age group to socialize with. The last thing she needs is to be boarded up with me inventing twenty-four seven. Which makes me think: do you know if she read that letter I gave you to give to her?"

"I-I don't think so. She shoved in her pocket when she went to find Larry," Greg replied.

"Well, then, don't just sit here. Go; remind her of the letter. It will change everything. Not to mention, it will give B something to focus on," Henry urged.

Greg looked over at Bianca, who stood with Balki in silence. "Okay."

"Hey, Bianca," Greg started as he walked towards her and the Mypiot.

"Hi," Bianca replied, chewing on a piece of her copper hair. "What's up?"

"Did you, uh, ever read that piece of paper I handed you earlier? The one you put in your pocket to read later?"

Bianca pulled the note out of her pocket and flashed it. "This one? No. I'll read it later."

Greg cleared his throat and looked at Henry before looking back at her. "Why don't you read it now? It might take your mind off Larry."

Bianca looked up at him, surprised that he knew what she was thinking about before Greg took Balki to the side to give her some privacy as she read whatever was in the note. While he had no major clue what was in the letter, he knew it was from her Aunt Liv and it was addressed to her specifically. From what Henry had told him, Greg was surprised her aunt even remembered Bianca's name.

"Alek, why aren't you with the others helping them go home?" Jacob asked, hearing how hoarce his voice had become. In just a matter of hours, it was almost as if he didn't even recognize himself. He sounded nothing like the former man he remembered, passionate about technology and longing to know more about his mother. But when did that longing turn into such bitterness and hatred towards others? He was definitely jealous of Bianca's relationship with the grandfather he longed to be loved by, but he never meant for it to come to…this. Ever since he became sick, it was as if he had two separate personalities. The jealous yet protective one and then the bitter, hateful, malicious one.

"I'm here because I was with you before you became ill and I will be with you until the end. Once you are comfortable, I will help the others get home," Alek replied, wiping Jacob's damp forehead with a cloth.

"This damn disease is spreading, Alek; I can feel it. I'm losing blood and I can barely stand. I killed one, possibly two people today. I deserve to die."

"You killed Quinn because he was going to kill your half-cousin and your grandfather and you knew that. You sacrificed lives to save theirs."

Jacob coughed but pushed away the tissue Alek handed him. "And poor Valeena. I tortured that girl to scare that foreign kid so he would be distracted. I don't even remember why I hated her so. Oh, Alek, I wish I could take it all back."

Alek grimaced and placed another blanket on Jacob's bed. "Don't talk, Jacob. Just rest."

"I hope everyone is rejoicing in being free," Jacob continued. "No one probably even knows-or cares-that I'm dying."

Suddenly, Jacob spotted a blurry figure standing in the doorway.

"You're wrong, Jacob. I care. We are family, after all and that's what families do; we care about one another," the blurry image said.

Jacob smiled and closed his eyes. Surely he was imagining things. The voice sounded just like a younger version of his mother. Only it wasn't his mother; the voice belonged to none other than the woman he kidnapped: his half-cousin, Bianca Pierson.