So it wasn't a full year since the last update which I will go ahead and count as a success. I think I said before there was only one chapter left, but I lied. There is still one more chapter left and if my current motivation lasts, I may or may not have that posted by the end of the month. I do however think I might rewrite this into the third person and post it on AO3 when I eventually finish the last chapter (which means the last chapter should be up sooner rather than later if things go well).
To say I was in pain when I woke up was an understatement. It felt like I had been hit by a truck, run over by a train and then dropped off a skyscraper. Then again I'm probably just overreacting. I mean, it hurt to move, and breathing was hard, but I was still alive. I immediately recognized the med bay of the Saturday's floating house and figured that I was safer here than where I was before.
"Oh good, you're awake." Mrs. Saturday was standing off to the side in a white lab coat. Maybe I wasn't as safe as I thought, but I wasn't strapped down or anything. "I was just changing your bandages. What do you remember?"
"Am I supposed to remember something?" Because my head was pounding, and I had the vague sense that I had once been in danger, but that was gone now.
"Well you were shot, so I was hoping you would remember at least that much, but it might be the shock that's messing with your memory. Give it some time I'm sure it will all come back to you." I sat up slowly, eyes never leaving Mr. Saturday. Something didn't feel right about this situation. I had very rarely ever been in the same room as this woman without her trying to attack me in some way shape or form, and yet here she was looking out for my health.
"Why are you being so nice to me?"
"You were shot," she replied as if it were a no-brainer. As if my sudden nearly life-threatening injury suddenly drastically changed whatever weird relationship we had formed over the past year.
"You don't like me."
"Most parents don't like people who kidnap their children, Blair."
"Most parents also don't have a child who can control every cryptid on the face of the planet," I added under my breath because I remember that now. I remembered the plane and Zak and the gun. I remember the way he had stood there in all his power and confidence like nothing could ever touch him. Like nothing would ever be above him. It was intimidating and awe-inspiring as well. And I suppose I'd always been aware of it, but this was the first time I'd seen it. Zak did a wonderful job of hiding is true colors from the world.
"I'm curious, Blair. You've been out for three days now, and Doyle is an anxious mess. What did you say to him?"
"What did I—" why would Doyle be an anxious mess? The few times I've ever talked to him, we've been at each other's throats… Now that I think about it, most of my contact with any of the Saturday family has resulted in some type of brawl. What a lovely relationship we've gone and formed, especially since Doyle might be—"Oh shit!" My heart stopped for a solid five seconds. I don't actually remember saying it, but I think I know what I might have told him. "Where's Tyler?"
"Your brother? He woke up yesterday morning. He's been in and out of here, I'm sure he'll be by soon."
"Has he talked to Doyle?"
"Doyle has interrogated him, but he refuses to share anything until you're awake." I rubbed the back of my neck nervously.
"Of course he would wait. Always one to throw the difficult conversations on me, huh?" I couldn't help but laugh a little. "Thank you for helping me, Mrs. Saturday. I know we don't have the best relationship, so thank you for patching me up."
"I didn't really have a choice."
"Are you implying that if you had a choice you would have left me to die?" The woman glared, and I laughed again.
"I didn't realize you think so little of me, Blair?"
"As I mentioned before, you don't particularly like me. I doubt you would have just let me bleed out though. I doubt Zak would have ever forgiven you if you had."
"He likes you. I don't know why, but he does. He seems to trust you, so I'll try to trust you too," she paused as if thinking something through, "But if you ever kidnap my son again."
"Is it kidnapping if he comes willingly?" because Zak had come willingly. He'd agreed to come with me a few weeks back when I went to go pick him up, and we'd both agreed to go on the run six months ago when we first met. Of course, the first time we didn't really have a choice. "Honestly, you ought to trust your son more. He's smart and reliable and a lot more powerful than any of us probably realize." Again, the image of him on the plane came to mind. Zak standing regal and tall with that smirk on his face. Like he was watching ants battle for power.
"About that. How much do you know about my son's powers?"
"Enough."
"What's that mean?"
"Mrs. Saturday, Zak is what many of us would label as a rightful heir. He has a right to this entire planet if he so pleased. He is inherently evil and inherently good at the same time, which is why so many of us respect him. He's Kur and every Cryptid on this planet is aware of this, but he has never once actually abused this power of his. If one day he decided to drop the façade, to give in to the darker side of his power, nearly all of us would likely stand beside him in aid of whatever he wants. I would happily stand by his side for whatever reason," Part of me knew this was the cryptid in me talking, but all of me knew everything I just said was true. "We are all inherently drawn to him regardless of if he has all his power or not, it's probably why he originally stood out to me all those months ago when I ran into him at the flea market back in Washington. It's why, despite all the weirdness that surrounds him and your family, I found myself trusting him as soon as we met."
"Zak isn't evil, he would never abuse his power."
"No, he wouldn't, not unless something incredibly drastic happened to him. Honestly, that says something about your parenting. You raised him well, but you should learn to trust him. He's smart," I thought of all the idiotic plans we'd come up with during our travels and smirked, "I mean he's an idiot sometimes, but he's one of the smartest people I've met, and you should give him more credit."
"And why should I take parenting advice from a girl that barely lived a quarter of her life?"
"Well, what do you have to lose?" I hummed. The air grew silent between us, and I wondered if Drew would say anything else.
"You would actually fight by his side willingly if he decided he wanted to take over the world?"
"Probably," She looked at me with both concern and curiosity. I couldn't blame her. As smart as she was, she wasn't a cryptid. She couldn't fathom the deep seeded loyalty we already have towards Zak. Of course, he earned mine a long time ago, but that changed nothing. "So, did Doyle actually tell you what I said to him?" I asked wanting to change the topic.
"He didn't, but I'm sure that he's eager to talk to you."
"Am I allowed to leave?"
"I would advise against it, but I don't think I'd be able to stop you. There's a fresh change of clothes on the table next to your bed, I'll leave you alone for a little while." I thanked Drew again as she left the room, then carefully swung my legs over my side of the bed and stood up. The motion took a lot out of me, but I managed. By the time I managed to change into the fresh clothes there was a knock on the door.
"I'm coming in," Zak called as the door slid open. He looked concerned to see me on my feet and immediately ran to my side. "You shouldn't be moving around Blair. You were shot remember?"
"My memory is still coming back, it's all a bit of a blur."
"What do you remember?"
"I think I killed someone." Zak stayed silent, and that was as much of a confirmation as I needed.
"Francis told me. He said you shot Alistair."
"Yeah that sounds about right," I mumbled. I should feel bad about taking someone's life, but I felt nothing. "Man, my life really turned upside down when I met you." Zak chuckled.
"I think your life turned upside down the first time you met Francis. I think it was fate," he shot me a shit-eating grin before adding "the red kind of fate."
"And I think I should throw you off this floating house."
"Hey, you kissed him first."
"Maybe I should just teleport you off the ship instead of throwing you off. Or maybe I should teleport you into the deep end of the ocean."
"Would you really kill your king?"
"Did you seriously just call yourself a king?" I jabbed.
"Not like it would kill me. I think you'd be surprised what kind of cyprids live at the bottom of the ocean."
"Which means you know?"
"I'm vaguely aware. I'm vaguely aware of every cryptid's existence. I don't always know what they are, but I know they exist somewhere. eventually, I'll know what they all are though. It's part of the joy of being a secret scientist. We actively search for things that go bump in the night."
"Sounds like a blast."
"You should join me, I think you'd like it. Besides, it's not like you could go back to living a regular life after the past year you've had." I laughed because the past year was something I would have dreamed of only happening in a movie, not in my life.
"And It's not like I have a home to return to," I reminded, although I didn't feel as bitter about that news as I had once before. "But you're like family to me now, so it's not like I'm alone."
"That's true." He offered me his arm so he could help me walk around. I gratefully accepted it because my other option was leaning on the wall for support, and that would look kinda pathetic. "Your brother is waiting for us, so is Doyle. He demands to speak to you," Zak explained. "He wants to know why you called him dad."
"Ah, so I did call him that."
"Yeah. You said "thanks, dad," and promptly passed out from blood loss. Talk about a cliffhanger, Blair. And then Tyler woke up and Doyle was trying to get answers out of him. Tyler's been expertly avoiding him since their first encounter."
"Yeah, sounds like him."
"Is he actually your dad?" Zak asked leading her down the hallway and towards the main living space.
"I dunno, I'm kind of hoping he can help me piece that together. Tyler and I found some stuff about our birth…well, Francis found some stuff about the origins of our birth and there was a name."
"Was it Doyle's?"
"No, it was someone else. Marian Hershel, we think she was our mother. So we started looking into her, and we found pictures of her with Doyle."
"Small world."
"Tell me about it."
"Is that why you asked for the picture of Doyle when he was our age."
"Mhmm. I wanted to compare Doyle to Tyler."
"And?"
"They're similar. Tyler looks more like Doyle if I'm being honest, and he thinks I look more like our mother."
"Wait, so let me get this straight. If you do happen to be Doyle's kid, that makes us cousins." I stopped walking, and by default, Zak stopped too. I hadn't even thought about it like that, but he's right.
"Damn, we would actually be family," I laughed. "Long lost cousins." Zak smiled, and we continued our trek. When we reached the living room, Tyler was there waiting. He was standing off to the side looking warily towards the couch at Doyle, but his face lit up as soon as I entered the room.
"Blair!" He ran over and wrapped me up in a hug and didn't let go for a solid minute. "I was so scared. Don't ever do that again, you idiot. You're supposed to be the smart one."
"Yeah? And when did we decide that?"
"As soon as we met, nimrod." He let go of me, holding me at an arm's length. "Of course, I could be wrong since you were the one who went and got herself kidnapped."
"Yeah, sorry about that. Remind me never to help someone in need ever again. So far it's gotten me chased down by people wanting to dissect me, kidnaped by a family of cryptid hunting scientists, sent on a journey around the world to collect a stone, kidnapped again, brainwashed, and eventually shot. Helping people is overrated and dangerous."
"No, I think trouble is naturally attracted to our family," Zak interjected, "It's got nothing to do with our willingness to help others."
"So, we have more to look forward to?"
"Would you want it any other way?
"Probably not." Drew and Doc had decided to join us without any of us realizing. Obviously, they were curious about whatever bombshell I was planning to drop on Doyle, but for now, they stood to the side watching us. I wondered what they thought about seeing the three of us just being friends; being normal teens.
"Where's Francis?" I asked, realizing he was the only person missing from this scene.
"He locked himself in a room a few days ago and I haven't seen him since," Zak admitted. "I tried to get him to talk, but I think he's working through some stuff. I know he's not dead though. I leave a plate of food outside the door around the same time every day and they're usually gone when I come by later." I couldn't help but roll my eyes. Of course, he would isolate himself. As smart and calm as he tried to come off as he was honestly a bit of a moody angst queen.
"I'll go talk to him later, but first," I turned to face Doyle, "You obviously have questions."
"you called me dad." The redhead said immediately. "Why? Were you just delirious or?"
"Drew said you've been anxious since you saved me. Why? The only reason you would be worried is if you thought there was some validity in my statement."
"Is there?"
"You tell me." I moved over to the opposite couch and sat down. Tyler joined me.
"Do you know someone named, Marian Hershel? Tyler asked, pulling a piece of paper out of his back pocket. I wondered if he'd recently printed that for this conversation or if he'd managed to hold onto it through everything we'd been through. "This is our mother," he explained sliding the photo across the table. It was a young-looking woman with dark brown hair that fell in waves, framing a symmetrical face with a glowing smile and the warmest eyes I'd ever seen.
"Marian is dead," Doyle whispered, sliding the photo closer to him. "I was at her funeral."
"So, you knew her?"
"I loved her," he admitted focusing on the photo. "I loved her more than anyone else I've ever known, but—" he sighed and folded the paper. "It didn't work out, not with my line of work. My boss found out about her and used her to control me. He threatened her, and I refused to pull her into his game, so I cut it off. I hadn't seen her since then."
"How long ago was that?" I asked.
"I don't know, seventeen or eighteen years? Time started to blur together."
"Tyler how old are we?"
"Almost seventeen."
"Doyle, did you ever learn how Marian died?"
"I heard it was in childbirth." He seemed to realize what was being implied as soon as he said it. "Oh, you have got to be kidding. She wasn't when I left. She wasn't pregnant, she would have told me if she was. It had to be from someone else."
"Did she know about your job?" I asked. "Did you ever tell her? Did you stay with her constantly? Did you make it apparent you would have stayed if she told you she was pregnant? Or do you think she thought it would drive you away if you ever found out?" These were questions I'd wondered myself. "I always wondered if you knew she had kids. I wondered if I ever looked familiar to you. Tyler seems to think I look more like her than I do you, and we compared Tyler to that picture you gave me a few weeks back. I think he looks like you. Of course, there's no way to really know. We've just been theorizing based on what little information we've been able to gather."
"She wouldn't have told me," Doyle admitted. "If Marian was pregnant she would have kept it to herself. She already knew that I wasn't in the safest profession and she wouldn't have wanted to distract me, so she would have kept it secret if she'd found out."
"Okay, hold on!" Drew yelled. "I want to make sure I'm following this right. Doyle may have gotten someone pregnant without knowing, that woman may have somehow gotten involved with the experiments of hanger 910, which produced these two," she pointed at me and Tyler, "And now we're debating if Doyle is actually the father."
"More or less."
"We think she went into the program for the money. They offered her a large sum of money and, if what we gathered is correct, she didn't have a lot of it at the time."
"She was a prostitute, or she was before we met." Doyle said, "I used to send her money from jobs so she could put that life behind her."
"You really loved her," I realized. Doyle looked sad and almost nostalgic.
"I regret not dropping everything for her. When I learned of her death I was devastated. She was beautiful, more so than any photo could ever capture. And her laugh was like an orchestra creating the most wonderful sounds. Her smile could lift my mood regardless of how down I was. She was…she was too good for this world. Full of so much grace and love." He took a shaky breath. "I haven't loved another woman like I loved her."
"But you still left her."
"She deserved better than me."
"You don't get to dictate what she deserved," Tyler hissed. We'd gone and visited her parents when we learned about her being our mother. We were trying to learn more information, and we decided to drop the caution for once and just see what would happen if we told these people the truth. We told them we weren't looking for money, we just wanted the chance to learn a little about the woman we believed could potentially be our mother. They'd cried when we told them. Said they'd heard from their daughter that she was expecting to have twins, but they'd never found out what happened to the children. An autopsy showed she'd given birth, but they'd only had their daughter's body returned to them, as well as a very large settlement and company's deepest apologies.
"We went back to her home to visit. I guess when you left, she ended up going home. Her parents didn't have a lot at the time either, so in an attempt to earn some money, she went into a study that involved observing the developmental stages of a fetus. At first, they would let her come and go from her home, but in the later stages, they kept her at the facility."
"She kept a journal at the time. She spoke a lot about you, but oddly enough she never mentioned you being the father."
"But if you think she deserved better than you, then I'm not sure if you actually loved her," I accused, "because trust me when I say, all she wanted was you."
"You know, there is a way to find out if you're the father, Doyle," Doc interjected. "We could do a paternity test. We have the necessary equipment to determine the truth." Doyle sighed and stood up.
"I don't think it's necessary, but if the kids wanna do it for their own peace of mind I won't object."
"We want it." We said together. Doyle nodded in understanding.
"I'm telling you now, the test will most likely be positive. I weird thing to admit to, but—" he looked right at me, then looked over Tyler. "You're wrong by the way. You both look very similar to Marian. And you—" he directed this to me specifically, "You inherited her stubbornness."
"I'll take that as a compliment."
"You shouldn't," Tyler jabbed.
"Oh shut up." Doc directed us out of the room and into one of the labs on the ship. After gaining the material he needed and we all went our separate ways. Doyle went off on his own, looking a little out of it, and Tyler and I decided to leave him be. Learning you have two kids you never knew existed is probably a lot, and we still couldn't be certain until the results came in. Neither of us really knew how Doyle would take this news if he would want us around or not, but we were prepared for both.
While Doc worked on the test, I decided to seek out Francis. Zak walked me to the door and wished me good luck before ducking away to go find Tyler again.
"Let me in," I ordered, knocking on the door once. "You have ten seconds before I kick the door down." Five seconds passed before the door swung open. Francis looked at me with tired eyes.
"Why are you so violent?"
"Why are you such a moody teenager?" I countered walking in the room. "Who holes themselves up in their room for three whole days? You're seventeen, you don't get to have an existential crisis for at least another five years."
"Ha-ha, aren't you the funny one?" I found a seat on the floor, leaning against the bed. Francis leaned against the wall across from me, not exactly looking at me, but not necessarily avoiding me either.
"So, what's up with you?" I asked. "I'd like to think I know you well enough to tell when something is wrong." I glanced around the room. It was small and had huge wall windows lining the far side. The bed looked well kept, almost as if it hadn't been slept on, and there was a steadily growing pile of plates sitting in the corner. "And I will punch you if you say nothing is wrong."
"I've been working through stuff," he admitted. "My memory has been a bit jumbled since we escaped Alistair's grasp and I find it easier to work through it all on my own."
"You find it easier to do a lot of things on your own, it's why you got caught in the first place." He sighed and slid down the wall. "You know both Tyler and I offered to help you, but your stubborn ass was all 'I work alone' and you faded into the shadows."
"Yeah, and then I made everything harder for you."
"Well, I expect everything to be harder when you're involved. As smart as you are, Francis, you attract just as much trouble as Zak, if not more."
"I don't appreciate being compared to him."
"Well sucks." He smiled. It was small, but it was a start. "We talked to Doyle. That information you found about our mother was a huge help. He knew Marian, and he loved her. He also left her."
"I take it you're waiting for test results then."
"Yes, we are."
"Well, at least one mystery is going to be solved."
"So, while we wait, you're going to talk to me. I don't care if you want to be alone to sort through things, you were gone for a month and a half, Francis. Forty-seven days to be exact."
"You counted."
"I was worried."
"I'm sorry."
"Don't worry about it. You're safe now, that's what's important." He still wouldn't look at me. "I'm safe too you know. I was shot, sure, but I'm still breathing. It's gonna take a lot more than a lousy lead bullet to kill me, Francis." Another smile. It was brief, but it was there.
"You wouldn't have been in that situation if it weren't for me," he expressed, finally looking at me. "I gave away the location of the safe houses when asked, I'm the reason you couldn't put up a fight when you were captured, I'm the reason you were even looking in the first place."
"Oh, so you've been in here playing the blame game," I hummed, leaning my head back against the bed and staring at the ceiling.
"I'm not—"
"You are, Francis. It doesn't suit you, so stop. You don't get to take the blame for every bad thing that befell us. Shit happens, and I don't blame you for any of it. Tyler doesn't blame you either. We asked for your help, if it's anyone's fault it's ours for getting you involved."
"I would have helped even if you hadn't asked."
"Yeah, I know." We fell into silence and I was vaguely aware of Francis' eyes on me. Of course, he would be looking at me when I'm not looking at him. "Be honest with me, okay? You're not actually mad that you were caught or mad about anything else that happened to you while you were there, right? You're mad that you were used as a tool against me." He hummed softly as if debating the validity of my statement.
"You have to understand, Blair. My father, my actual father, the man I was cloned from, was very demanding of me. I was expected to be perfect to follow his orders without any variation or question. I escaped that. I haven't actually talked to father since I started helping you and Tyler. I haven't been home in longer. So, to suddenly be forced back into that mindset and then forced into being a tool to make you comply with Alistair's every wish? It's frustrating."
"Wait, you're a clone?"
"That's what you got out of that?"
"Okay sorry, but this is news to me. I didn't realize cloning was even possible," I paused. "You know what? I'm learning a lot of things I previously thought impossible are actually very possible and have been possible for a long time. So sure, why not. Cloning is a thing that can happen now. So, you're a clone. Anything else I should know?"
"You did pick up that I'm a clone of my father, right?"
"Are you going to grow up to look like him?"
"Like hell I am." I snorted at the anger he expressed from my question. "I enjoy my hair, and I'll run anyone thru who tries approach my head with scissors."
"Noted. I'll be sure to buzz it all off in your sleep one day."
"You won't live through the next sunset."
"Don't worry I'll pin the blame on Zak." He rolled his eyes but was smiling none the less. I looked back to Francis, who seemed content with looking out the window.
"So, you were used to get to me, what are you going to do about it? Are you going to leave? Are you going to claim that you being around me is too much of a risk? Are you going to do what I recently learned Doyle did?"
"Don't compare me to him either."
"Then be smarter than him. He left my mother because he didn't want her to be threatened due to his line of work. He thought she deserved better, but you don't get to dictate how I feel about all of this just like he shouldn't have dictated how she felt. I don't think there was a single day my mother didn't miss Doyle." I pushed myself to my feet and glanced at the door. "I don't blame you for what happened, and all my actions were my own, so don't be Doyle, because he is a bit of an idiot and you, Francis, are anything but." I started towards the exit and paused in the open door. "Oh, and make sure you take those dished back to the kitchen and thank Zak for keeping your dumb ass fed." He just waved me off, and I left him alone again to work through his thoughts. He wasn't dumb, anyone who knew him was very much aware of this, but he was a bit lacking in social skills. He was still working on the fact that other people would actually stop what they were doing to help him. I knew I always would.
I wandered the halls alone for a while. It was a dumb idea since I was still a little light in the head, but there was something wrong. There was a knot forming in the center of my chest, slowly suffocating me and I couldn't quite figure out why. It hit a point where I needed to sit down, but I didn't want to just stop in the middle of the hall, so I ducked into the next room, and sat down. It must have been another guest room, or maybe it was someone's room. I couldn't really tell and at this point, I didn't really care. I staggered over towards the bed and dropped to the floor, leaning against the bed so I could stare out the window.
Drew had said my memories would come back slowly. She said I'd been in shock and it wasn't surprising that things were fuzzy. And I did remember them, they came back like she said, but the full weight of what I'd remembered hadn't hit me.
"Oh god," the fact that I had actually killed someone was starting to hit. I'd killed Alistair. He'd shot at Francis and I'd ricocheted the bullets and shot him. My breath hitched, and I curled into myself, squeezing my eyes shut, trying to block out the memory of Francis yelling at me "you shot him!" and the blood and the look of him while he was at death's door. And I knew the signs of a panic attack, I knew how to stop them, but I couldn't. The entire thing just played through my head over and over until eventually, I shut down. It wasn't until my emotions went numb I realized someone was trying to talk to me.
"Kid!" Doyle was crouching in front of me, concern written across his face. "Blair, what's wrong? Talk to me?"
"What are you doing here?"
"This is my room, kid. What are you doing here?"
"I just needed to get out of the hall. This was the first room I came across. Sorry, I'll leave." I tried to leave, but he pushed me back to the ground and found a seat beside me.
"You're not going anywhere till you tell me what happened?" I took a slow steadying breath. Did I really want to share this? If I say it out loud it's like a declaration of guilt, right? "I need you to say it out loud, Blair, trust me on this. It's worse if you keep it inside."
"Why bother asking if you already knew."
"I'm asking because I know. I've been here, Blair, I know what your feeling. If you didn't feel anything at all right now, then you wouldn't be human."
"I'm not human."
"You're half human."
"You're real great at this comforting thing."
"Yeah? So, tell me about it?"
"About what?"
"It," he repeated. I glanced at him, he continued to gaze out the window. I doubted he'd let me leave until I did as he asked.
"I didn't shoot him with a gun. He shot at Francis, I stopped the bullet from hitting him, and I ricocheted them back at Alistair."
"Sounds like self-defense."
"I intentionally aimed at him. It might have been a high-tension situation, but I could have thrown those bullets anywhere. I could have stopped them in their tracks and let them fall to the ground, but I purposefully shot them back at him."
"Still sounds like self-defense. You were protecting yourself, your brother, Francis, and Zak."
"Yeah, I guess."
"I've been in the exact situation you've been in, Blair," Doyle began, "It's not an easy situation to be in and it's not something you will likely get over anytime soon, but if you ever need to talk to someone about it I'm here."
"So, you've killed before."
"I'm not proud of it."
"I would be concerned if you were." He chuckled a little and reached over the mess with my hair.
"Rude."
"Aw, hush. The rooms facing West right now, which means we have a very nice view of the sunset. Just shut up and watch it for a while. Relax a little. It doesn't seem like you've been able to do much of that recently."
"Not really, no." I sighed and leaned against his shoulder. He didn't shrug me off so I figured it was fine. "Are you mad she didn't tell you about us?"
"A little."
"Do you want us to leave?"
"No." I couldn't help but smile. "Even if you end up not being mine biologically, I'd still look out for you two. You're Marian's kids and there's very little I wouldn't do for her."
"You'd adopt her orphaned kids?"
"You know, if memory serves me correctly, I believe I'm the one who rescued you and Tyler from the hanger all those years ago. I also remember you both being adopted after a few years."
"Tyler's adoptive parents died, and mine replaced me with a soon to be born biological child."
"Wonderful parents, huh?"
"Could have been worse."
"I can't tell if you're optimistic or not."
"Maybe that's something you can figure out later on." I felt oddly comfortable being here with Doyle. He didn't strike me as a fatherly type, but right now he seemed reliable. Honestly, I was just happy to have a shoulder to lean on. "Will you tell me more about Marian? All I know about her is from vague documents we found and what little we could collect from the one visit to her parent's house."
"What do you want to know?"
"Anything you're willing to tell me." Doyle took a minute to think before deciding on a story about the first time they met. It involved a jetpack and him accidentally flying her into a lake. I hadn't expected to laugh as much as I did, but listening to him recount the tale made me forget about Alistair for now and relax. And I didn't remember falling asleep, but I must have because I woke up the next morning in a room, sharing a massive king bed with Tyler.
Thanks for reading. Please leave a comment since they're the reason i eventually came back to this (as well as the random people who somehow found this story on this website? like thank you for the favorite/follows)