Author's Note: How long has it been? And most of you would probably say it's been too long. College is busy. And finals is coming up, but I squeezed this in the best I can. Happy Thanksgiving, everyone!

My head was pounding and my limbs felt like Jello. I was exhausted, and my eyes had a hard time staying open. Drifting in and out of sleep, I vaguely remembered being in a car for a while, not moving and waiting for something. The sound of the rain bouncing off the glass was a comforting lullaby. It was warm inside despite my clammy state. There was a lot of noise behind me and lots of movement so that the car almost bounced at some points, but it was irrelevant as I got lost in the dark unconscious. Right before I was completely gone, someone slipped into the driver's seat beside me and something cold brushed my cheek.

When I was back in my right mind, it was only because something was tugging at my hair. I cringed at the pain, noticing that it was more than usual. Perhaps I'd hit my head when I fell into the water and didn't notice while I was drowning.

Not opening my eyes, I groaned and turned away, shifting myself away from whatever it was. My hands fell onto soft fabric and my nose smelled unfamiliar fabric softener. I was lying down, there was a soft pillow at my head, and a blanket pulled up just below my chest. My shin was brushing against the covers, even my thighs. I had shorts on. Shorts? I don't remember being in shorts. In fact, I should be in work attire.

I gasped and shot up, my eyes opening wide. Something grabbed my wrists, cold and soft. I turned and saw a familiar face, smiling kindly at me. Pulling free of his hold, I lifted the covers slightly and peered underneath. I was wearing boy shorts and an oversized t-shirt. Not anything I recognized as part of my wardrobe. I glanced over at the person.

"Rita changed you. We couldn't have you staying in wet clothes or you would get sick."

I nodded curtly, settled some by the explanation given. My eyes scanned the surroundings. I was in a large room lit by a series of small chandeliers. The ceiling was high, and the floors were carpeted a deep brown color. I was in a huge king-sized bed with dark red bedding, pushed up against a wall. There were four posts standing at the corners of the bed frame, and he sat against one of them.

The walls were covered in abstract paintings using darker colors and the general wall was painted a warm chocolate color to match the carpeting. Despite the homely interior, the air was cold and medical somehow. Everything was so old fashioned. I blinked in confusion, not knowing where I was or how I even got here.

Soundlessly, he got up, hardly disturbing the balance of the mattress and strode quickly across the room at an impossible speed. I watched him gracefully descend the three steps to the lowered area of the room with a desk and a bookcase facing the other direction.

I noticed that he had changed too. He was now wearing a different suit with a gray tie that was loose around his collar. His hair was dry and so was mine. And judging from the amount of curls and puffiness in it, the drying was fairly recent, though it does take more than an hour for my hair to dry naturally. How long was I out?

With his back to me, he picked up a pitcher of water and a glass from the edge of the desk and poured the liquid until the glass was three quarters full. He set the glass pitcher down and carried the cup back over. Taking my hand carefully, he circled my fingers around its body.

"Drink," he ordered, his voice rather void of emotion. "You swallowed a lot of salt water. It will dehydrate you, so drink."

I swallowed on impulse and realized that my mouth was dry. Dehydration might explain why my head felt like it had been beaten against a boulder repeatedly. Not to mention that I was starving. There was no clock and no windows so I couldn't tell what time it was, but I knew it way past lunch time.

Staring down at the sparkling water for a moment, I decided it was probably best to drink. I drank half of it, suddenly reminded of why I hated drinks at room temperature and why I hated water that wasn't distilled. I could taste the chlorine used to kill the bacteria in it right away, and it wasn't pleasant going down the throat.

He frowned and took the glass from me, setting it on the small glass table beside the bed. The silence around us was beginning to bother me. I couldn't understand why he hadn't started in on the incident yet. He wasn't a worrier and a brooder; I fully expected a full on speech by now. But he seemed so quiet, strangely so.

I tilted my head to see his face since he was staring at the surface of the bed awfully hard. He was expressionless, his body language divulging nothing. But the air around him was obvious; he was sulking, probably over-thinking again and coming up with ridiculous reasoning for what happened. And then, I saw his eyes.

They were a flat black color, still and lifeless. The depth-less color that only appeared when he was furious or feeling complicated, toiling himself in his own head. He was completely still, to the point of not breathing and blinking. All human facade gone. I feared that he was thinking something unfathomable. Slowly and cautiously, I reached out and brushed his arm once. No response. He couldn't have turned into a statue, right?

"Are you mad?" I asked, my voice sounding strange to me.

I scooted closer to the edge, where he was sitting. My hair fell in front of my face, obstructing my view for a second. That broke the spell and the statue came to life. I felt his cold skin as it brushed my face and tucked the loose hair away. He sighed, shaking his head in an insincere manner.

"No, I'm not mad."

"Yes. You are clearly mad," I argued flippantly, anticipating the lie before it came.

"Abby," he warned sternly.

"Jason," I answered in the same tone. "Whatever you are thinking, spit it out or else you are going to explode unreasonably later on. And don't say it's nothing because I can almost see it on your face. You're forming some sort of backwards logic in your head, aren't you?"

After a moment, he scoffed, a small smile gracing his lips but did not reach his eyes. "Sometimes I think it will be easier for me to be unconvinced by you if were not so quick to become combative. It will be so much simpler if you just listened to me and do as I say."

"What are you talking about?" I blinked. "Really, what were you thinking just now?"

"I was making sure that I've dealt with everything correctly. I was trying to figure out how many tests they should give you so that I can be sure you're really okay. I am still thinking of what to say when Mick asks me questions about today," he listed. He wasn't lying, but he wasn't speaking the truth either.

"Tests? What tests?"

"Blood tests. A CAT scan is in order. Maybe an electrocardiogram as well. I don't know what kind of internal damage you've sustained while being foolish."

"I'm fine. And I wasn't being foolish. I was trying to remove myself from danger, and I almost succeeded," I snapped.

"Almost? Can you really consider what happened almost?" He flared, his expression completely altering. "Abby, what would've happened if I had not arrived at that moment?" I said nothing. The look on his face placed a seal over my mouth. He let it sit for a moment and reached out, cupping my face in his hands and angling my head toward him.

"Nina would've bled to death or would've been dragged back into that boathouse, where she might have served as a punching bag for those lower-than-serpents men. And you. Abby, you would've drowned and the waters would have taken your body to God knows where. You would've become scavenge for fishes. What would I have done then?"

He wasn't angry at all. He was sad. And scared. I'd forgotten that he'd already lost someone dear to him by water. It must've traumatized him to see the scene replayed again after all this time. I felt a pinch of guilt and my tone tendered this time.

"I didn't see an option at the time. I couldn't be sure that they would return us safely even if they got their money. They said that they would only allow me to leave at most. They would keep Nina and sell her off to the Philippines. I couldn't just sit there and watch it all happen."

"You should have waited for me to come get you. You should have trusted that I wouldn't allow anything to happen to you. I cherish you more than anything else. But why is it that you can disregard yourself without thinking about it?"

He let go, suddenly appearing ten feet away from the bed. He withdrew a breath from his mouth and turned his back to me. I exhaled the air I'd been keeping trapped in my lungs. My heart was speeding like a tribal drum in ribcage. Strange electricity ran up and down my body, making me dizzy and disoriented. I waited a second for the charge to subside and wondered if something was really wrong with me after drinking so much sea water.

"I'm-," I stopped, the words getting stuck in my throat. I really hated these words. I would never say them unless it was absolutely necessary. And no time was more necessary than now. "I'm sorry."

He sighed, his shoulders slacked. "No, you shouldn't be. From the beginning, I should have known better. There was nothing you could do. I failed to keep you from danger."

"There was nothing you could do either. You couldn't magically have known that I would get snatched off the street on that day at that time. The dangers is a result of who I am. It existed before you appeared, and it's going to continue. Beating yourself up over this is ludicrous. I don't need you to take responsibility for me. I can admit that it was my own carelessness."

"Abby, if I were anyone else, those excuses could pass. But I'm not. I am fully capable of preventing these things. Collectively, my family and I should have no problem keeping someone from dying. I've had more than a century of practice. Today, I lost it in front of you and the whole company in the elevator. And then, I lost it again. I've exposed my family, and I've involved you and your friends. People like me do not get to lose it. We are always supposed to be the ones to find it."

He was standing before me again. His voice was getting louder and deeper as he spoke, and the shock to my heart was getting really hard to ignore. Still, he was being a stubborn idiot and provoking me at a wrong time. I was so aggravated by his self-torturing tendencies and insistence that any tragedy was his fault. He might as well have said that it was his sin that caused the tsunami overseas.

"Stop it!" I yelled, grabbing his arms on instinct. "Are you even listening to yourself? You're mad at yourself for acting on the impulse to save me. No one sane can be mad at you for that. As for my friends, I can deal with that myself. Don't you dare say to me that it was your fault again. Don't stand in front of me with that self-loathing expression."

He stared at me. His eyes lightening slowly like a mood ring. His expression relaxed. "How? How are you so boundlessly gracious towards me? Meeting me had to have been the most tragedian occurrence in your short life. For all the things I've put you through, I'm truly sorry."

"Don't apologize to me. You have no idea how much I hate that word. It's meaningless, and it's just another excuse. I didn't want to hear that from you in the elevator, and I definitely don't want to hear it now." Truthfully, I didn't have a clue what I was saying now. I've felt strange since I opened my eyes, and the thoughts and words running out of me was nonsense to me. Why is he still listening to me?

"What do you want to hear, Abby?" He asked. I asked that to myself as well. "I've already said all that I can. I can't go any further than this. I've already put my whole heart and soul to the limit and placed in front of you for you to choose to take them or step on them. This is it. This is where I fold."

My hands fell from his arms. It took me a moment to understand the new twist in this odd roller coaster conversation we were having. I couldn't connect how we got to this point. It seemed like I'd had a memory lapse and lost where the leap was from the previous subject to this one. I blinked, remembering what we had been fighting about before all this. I would have completely forgotten if this hadn't been brought up.

"I-,"

What do I say when I hadn't prepared myself for all of this? What do I say when I can't even think about a serious relationship without being sick to my stomach? What do I say when the person asking me this is asking for a lot more than a step of faith?This isn't just asking me to start dating him. This is asking me for all of it. Everything I can give the person I love and more at the age of only 16. I didn't know whether I can leap into the dark, trusting that he'll catch me on the other side. At the same time, there was something preventing me from letting him down.

When he wasn't around, it wasn't as if I couldn't breath or I was catatonic, but I regularly remembered him when I had free time. When he was around, I wasn't jumpy or giddy, but it was nice to see him. Even when he aggravated and angered me, it was better to be mad at him than not seeing him. When I was in danger, there was one last image that appeared before everything disappeared. The first time it was myself as a child on his back, feeling the safest I've felt in a long time. The second time, in the water, it was me on his back again. I was peacefully sleeping even though he was walking, and it must've been so uncomfortable. I already placed a lot of trust in him. This person, who passes in and out of my consciousness so freely, what is he to me? Am I really so sure that I can answer him like this?

"I guess I already got my answer. It's not a shock to me. I've been rejected so many times by you. I shouldn't feel hurt anymore," he dismissed, avoiding my eyes. "I have some things to take care of. Rita prepared a change of clothes for you in the bathroom. The doctor will be here to check up on you soon. You should wait for him before changing." Jason turned sadly and walked away.

I threw the covers off myself and reached out to stop him before he could step away. He whirled around and placed his hands on my shoulders, fully intending on pushing me back down. I got up on my knees, put one hand around the back of his hand and wrapped the other around his tie. With one pull, the tie tightened around his collar and pulled his form to me. One moment, his colored eyes were looking at me in shock and the next we were connected at the lips.

Stunned by my own actions, I stiffened and searched my brain for justification. My fist tightened, pulling at his hair. My head felt like it was going to combust from within. The electrical current grew stronger, and I was sure I was shocking him. My concussion must be really serious.

I was sinking back onto the mattress, my knees not able to keep my upright anymore. Inch by inch until I felt my feet folded under my behind, everything was spinning. Still, we never lost contact. As I descended, so did he, bending to accommodate my position. My eyes were closed, but I didn't know when. I was afraid to open them now. I was afraid that if I did, I would confirm that this is really happening. I really did just kiss him.

My last clear thoughts were nothing like what I ended up doing. It was backwards how I just grabbed him so forcefully. I couldn't come up with an explanation except for that I hit my head too hard, and I've temporarily lost my mind. But what am I supposed to do now?

Jason moved his head slightly, adjusting his angle for the extreme height difference with him still standing and me practically melting into the bed. Painstakingly slowly, he eased back. He rested his forehead on mine and breathed cool air onto my face. My eyes were still shut, and I was literally frozen in place with my hands in his hair and the tie around my wrist like a bracelet. My breathing was irregular, like there wasn't enough oxygen in the room.

He was quiet, not disturbing my train of thought. I was reciting what I wanted to say, and should have said instead of attacking him, in my head. I would definitely not lose my mind again even if I've definitely lost control of my limbs. I just prayed this humiliation would pass quickly.

"The question you really want to ask me," I whispered, feeling the flutter of his long eyelashes on my face. I squeezed my eyes tighter. "The answer is definitely not a no."

I can almost feel his smile forming now. Every time I took in air, his fresh scent tickled my nose, and I was just reminded of how close we were. This was a huge invasion of my personal bubble, but I wasn't receiving any response from the rest of my body. With the will to pull away, I still can't do it.

"But can I ask you to trust me?" I continued. "This is a lot for me to take in all at once. Give me some time to deal with everything. And put what all this means into perspective. Can we, can we just take it slow? Take one step at a time? Can you trust me enough to let me do it my way?"

Instantaneously, I heard a low chuckle from deep inside his throat. His hand left my right shoulder and I felt it again in my hair. His head was removed from mine and replaced by those cold lips. My eyes opened in surprise and was first met with his joyous face as he gazed favorably at me. My arms went limp and fell from his scalp and chest to my lap uselessly.

"Anything for you. As long as you need."

He lifted his other hand and ran a finger across my bottom lip. The cool sensation was mixed with tenderness. I'd forgotten that I'd bruised my lips before, also because of him. It didn't hurt in that moment or that one, but it sure did now. Now that I was accessing my health, the spot where his hand rested in my scalp was tender too. I cringed.

"You have a few bruises, but that's only expected," he said, letting me go and stepping back. "I really have to go now. If you're bored, go see your friend. She's down the hall with Mick. I must warn you, she's a little child-like right now." He walked out, his mood completely turned around.

But mine was completely incomprehensible.

I watched him disappear and sat there alone. My head was killing me. I kept hearing small explosions in my earls like little firecrackers were being set off all around me. My stomach fluttered so much that a small smile cracked my face. I leaned my head to the side, blinked, and put my right hand over my chest. The strange rhythm there spoke volumes.

"Why? Why did I do something like that?" I questioned myself.

I heard something glass shatter on the other side of the wall. I jumped out of bed and ran out in the same direction Jason had taken. I had to see Nina and Mick. I'd forgotten that she was probably hurt too.

I anticipated that I would be questioned about Jason. But that can be dealt with one step at a time. Surely Mick would not see a danger in him if he'd already seen the Jason that would do anything to protect me. It was probably hard to believe such a thing existed, and I'd look like a lunatic trying to tell him it did. I decided to not tell him anymore than he can deduce himself. It was best that way.

Leaving the room I had been in since waking up, I realized that I had no clue where I was. For all I knew, I may have left the United States already. The room was connected to a hallway, which was connected to a sitting room, fully equipped with a small kitchen area with a fridge but not oven or stove. The sitting area had a coffee table, a flat screen television, and two long couches. Everything was color coded browns and deep reds. I kept running until I saw a door.

On the other side of it was a bigger hallway with shiny tiled floors and crisp white walls. Looking to my left, there was a huge window where the hall stopped unexpectedly, and I was dumbstruck to see sky and clouds. And the roof of the next skyscraper. Oh, I was in a skyscraper myself. And from the looks of it, I was on one of the uppermost floors. I was afraid of heights, and the thought of looking down at the ground from here made me sick to my stomach. The sky was dim with the thick cover of clouds. What time of the day is it? Groaning, I inched toward the right where the hall continued to stretch.

Jason said something about a doctor and health exams. This didn't look like a hospital or a doctor's office. So where was I?

I reached another door and was contemplating whether or not I should knock on it when I heard a distinct scream. Nina? Urgency took over, and I pushed the door open. It was similar set up to the room I was in. There was the same sitting room and kitchen area, except this time in dark blue and gray. I took the hallway straight into the bedroom. The sight I was met with baffled me. I wasn't sure if it was amusing or ridiculous.

Nina was sitting up in the bed with a huge gauze attached to her arm, bits of red peeking out into the cotton. She was wearing what looked similar to what I was wearing. Standing next to the bed was Mick, his hair disheveled and his shirt wrinkled at the sleeves and bottom. There was someone behind Mick, a man in his 40s in a white lab coat and stethoscope around his neck. The man was a good six inches shorter than Mick and was using him as a shield. Mick had his hands up, palms toward Nina.

I stepped closer quietly and saw why they were in those positions. Nina had a devilish smile on her face, which was paler than usual. She was holding what looks like a metal fork in her hand, pointy edges directed in Mick's direction. On the floor were broken shards of glass and discarded food.

"Nina," Mick pleaded, a bit disturbed but he bravely took a step toward her. She leaned forward quickly and withdrew again, causing him to jump back, nearly knocking the doctor down. "Please, give me the fork. Give it to me. It's alright."

I didn't know why, but the sight of it all made me laugh loudly. The sudden sound made all three of them turn in my direction and stare. I clamped a hand over my obnoxious laughter and gave them a little wave, feeling strangely giddy all of a sudden. My headache even subsided. Pain medication?

Author's Note: Progress was made, everyone! Next chapter: Mick's confession and Abby and Nina on pain medication. REVIEW!!!