Oh, I feel yucky. And not a yucky I felt before. It was a genuine sick, but not a normal kind of sick. I couldn't quite put my finger on what it was. All I knew was that I didn't like the nausea it gave me. And I know damn well who probably caused it. At least I wasn't tied to the crib, so I'll call that a win. That didn't mean I could suddenly climb over the bars, though. Dammit, Oliver…But then, a big wave overcame my stomach. Not good.

"Oliver," I called out to the empty room, "I know you can hear me. Let me out or there will be a huge mess in here."

I heard the locks outside ticking away. The door opened and he stood in the doorway, "Is everything ok, Amelia?"

That question was much more subjective than he knew, but I knew what he meant, "Trash can."

"What?" Oliver looked at me strange.

"Trash can," I begged, "Please."

"Alright," he got the sickeningly pick trash can near the changing table and handed it to me, "Why?"

I spilled the contents of my stomach into it, stomach acid burning the back of my throat, "That's why."

"Oh, poppet," Oliver got…a fucking burp cloth…out of the changing table and wiped my mouth off, "You must be having a bad reaction to your new medicine."

"Yeah," I pulled away, "It's called my body knowing I don't need them."

"But you do," he insisted, lightly swatting my nose with the dry end of the cloth, "You'll be ok. You just need to get used to them."

"Will I really be ok?" Because from my standpoint, I'm not thinking so.

"Of course," Oliver smiled, sending chills down my spine. It's so weird to think that was once such a source of comfort. Now, I could stand to puke again, "How about a walk?"

Wait, what? A…A walk? Getting out of here for a change? Not being stuck in this fucking crib? I'd be stupid to say no, but I couldn't sound too excited. He'll think I'm trying to make a break for it. It'd be ideal, but I'll settle for landmarks to tell the cops, "Ok."

"Splendid!"

"Do I actually get to walk?" I wondered, my mouth operating faster than my brain, "Or do I have a stroller, too?"

"Mind your tongue, Amelia," he scolded me, dropping his temper and the bar on the crib. Oliver helped me down and moved us to the big rocking chair, "Look, darling. I know things seem strange right now, but I promise you'll get used to it soon. It takes three weeks to form a new habit. In two months, it becomes routine. And you, my dear, sweet bundle of joy, have been with me for three months, one week, and four days. And what a lovely time it's been, wouldn't you say?"

"But why do I have to stay?" I argued, trying my damnedest not to lose my resolve, "Why do I have to get used to this?"

"Because it's unsafe for you, Amelia," Oliver cradled me tight against his chest, "I don't want to risk losing you. Although, I am a little curious as to how desperate the others will get for you. And how far they'll go. But I digress. I promise we'll take a walk a little while later, but for now, we need to get to work on lunch since a certain young lady slept through breakfast. Such a sleepyhead, Amelia."

"It's amazing what happens when you're sedated."

"I don't want to sedate you, sweetheart," he lied through his fucking teeth, "But sometimes, when you get a bit unruly beyond my control, I need a little help. It's hard being a single parent. Come along then. I'm sure you're hungry, considering most of what you've eaten had ended up in the trash can."

Oliver took my hand and led me through the house. It's the first time he's shown me any of the cottage since we've been here. And it's just the two of us. I'm not sure if that's comforting or horrifying, but he was right. I'm fucking starving and need something in my stomach or I'm going to end up throwing up again. Right now, I didn't care what Oliver was making as long as I could watch him making it. He wouldn't do something stupid like poison me, right? He's sedated me and drugged me before. But full on, could kill me, poison? No. Xiao told him how much of what was in those syringes would overdose me. If Oliver wanted to kill me, he easily could. And God knows he can cover his tracks.

"Here, darling," Oliver sat me in the cutest little breakfast nook, "You wait right here. I'll make you something to eat. Do you have any preferences?"

"I can make my own," I tried getting up, but to no avail.

"Nonsense," he brushed me off, "Of course you won't. You're so silly, Amelia. So, so silly."

"Oliver…" Maybe I could try to reason with him. I know that hasn't held much water since we've been here, but it's worth a shot. It's not like I had much for options, "This is starting to get to the point where you're holding me against my will."

"No," Oliver hushed me, "You want to be here, Amelia. You've told me this yourself. You need to be here. Or you won't last another day. Not on the path you were on."

"Oliver…" I took in a deep breath, done with being delicate. Delicate doesn't work with Oliver. Don't say I never tried playing nice. I'm done with Oliver getting into my head. I'm done with him telling me what I do and don't think. I'm done with him as a whole, "I don't."

"You don't what, love?" he checked the fridge for something for me to eat. And likely himself. But he totally blew me off.

"I don't want to be here," I stood my ground, "I want to be back in my house. The one where I lived with Reid, who I have no doubt in my mind you've killed."

"Amelia…" Slowly, Oliver shut the fridge, not making any eye contact with me, "Don't be like this."

"You did, didn't you?"

"You don't understand," he hid his face, "I do what I have to in order to keep you safe. You need to be protected, Amelia, and he was a cancer on your life. You need to see that. You're much better without him."

"That's not your decision to make," I growled, "Sure, I might be better off without him, but that didn't mean I wouldn't give him a chance to change. Just because I would be better off without him didn't mean the rest of the world would be, too."

"I've seen his type," Oliver scoffed, "Trust me. They would be. Don't you see why I do what I do? Why I want you kept safe? Why I never want anything bad to ever happen to you? I love you, Amelia. Really and truly, I do. Someone needed to show you that every day didn't have to be a warzone and I couldn't live with myself, letting you go on that way. Everything else aside, I love you. And I want you safe more than anything in this world. Because you're that precious to me."

"No," I knew better than that, "You might think you're doing this out of love, but it's because you want someone under your thumb. That's all this is. That's what it was with Francois, with Matt, with Allen…And now, you want to make me your next victim. I can't let you do that, Oliver."

I hit him. And I hit him hard. And I didn't even have to lay a finger on him. But I could see it in his eyes. I just tore his twisted, shattered heart out of his chest and held it in front of his face. He watched it beat in my fist. His bright, cheerful façade was cracking and no amount of hot glue would be able to put him back together. But unfortunately, he pulled himself back together and reached into the cabinet next to the stove.

"It looks like we're going to have to start this all over again, aren't we?" Oliver grabbed one of the syringes Xiao gave him, "You had no right to bring up Francois. I knew you were capable of playing dirty, but I didn't think you'd ever stoop that low. Oh, well. We have ways of fixing that, don't we? You're going to get very familiar with the high of Midozolam, my dear Amelia. I don't like breaking you like this, but if you're going to be difficult, it looks like I'm going to have to play dirty, too. It'll be the only way to get you to understand."

"I don't think so," I got up from the breakfast nook and started running for the back door. Although, I wasn't anticipating Oliver clotheslining me in the stomach and bringing me back to the breakfast nook. Son of a bitch knocked the wind out of me.

"Why, darling?" he sighed out, "Why must you be so difficult? I give you nothing but a carefree existence and you feel the need to sabotage it. It's unfortunate, but I see no other choice. I'm going to have to clean the slate with you, aren't I? Now, Xiao did show me how to do this properly, so it's not like I'm going to hurt you. Although, the needle might be a little less than desirable. But I know you can handle it. You've been through worse, I'm sure."

"Like the humiliation you're putting me through here?" I figured.

"Oh, Amelia…" Oliver put his hand to my cheek, making me flinch, "I really need to find a way of keeping that pretty little mouth of yours shut, don't I? Clearly, you know what I'm capable of. You know what I did to your ex-boyfriend. I wonder who else in your life I could do that to."

"There's only one I can think of," I played really dirty, "And I don't see you hurting Allen."

"Really?" he gave me a look, "Allen? My Allen? He's the one you think of first? Not your parents? Your family?"

"You don't know my cousin," I pointed out, "You wouldn't dare hurt Sebastian. And my parents don't even share blood with me. You so graciously told me that."

"And you don't think I'd hurt Allen?" You're bluffing, you son of a bitch. I can see it in your eyes. The former street rat in me learned to pick up tells a long time ago. You flinched at the mere mention of Allen. It pained you terribly to say his name. Right now, I'm untouchable. Granted, he didn't hesitate to take Reid out, but anyone else? He won't touch them. Not if he knows I have no emotional ties left.

"I know you wouldn't hurt Allen," I told him, "He might mean a lot to me, but he means a whole lot more to you."

"And you don't think I'd selflessly throw him under the bus for you?" Oh, shit…I didn't think he'd turn this on me, "For you? He walked away from me, Amelia. He hurt me more than you ever could. He'll never come back to me. Not willingly. If it meant me having you all to myself, Allen would merely be another stepping stone in creating that utopian idea."

"You'd kill your own son?" I gasped. This guy really is fucked up.

"For you," Oliver took my arm and tied it off, his syringe in hand, "Now, I need you to stay completely still for me. This needs to go into your vein and if it doesn't, it could make you as sick as you were a little while ago. And you wouldn't want that, would you?"

"No."

Knock, knock.

Oliver's head shot up, "What was that?"

"Someone at the door?" I figured.

"Why?" he glared a hole through me, "You don't have a way of calling someone, do you?"

"No," I shook my head. I didn't even know who'd be at the door. Unless I had someone on the inside. I might actually have someone on my side. But who? Flavio, maybe? Maybe Flavio told Allen. Allen told Matt. They're here to get me out of here? Or maybe they got help from all the others from the video call. I don't know what's happening, but God, I hope someone's here storming the castle. Because I don't want to know what the high of Midozolam is like. The way that Xiao was talking, that shit's dangerous. Like…Wiping my memories, dangerous. Left in the hands of Oliver Kirkland, I'd lose what little of myself I have left.

"Stay right here," Oliver demanded, "Do not move. Do not speak."

He pulled a zip tie out of his pocket and bound my free hand to the table. A little too tight, if I'm being asked, but I don't think Oliver cared. Shit…I was hoping whoever at the door could've at least been a distraction while I slip out the back door. Now…How do I undo a zip tie? I know there's a way of twisting it and giving it a good, swift yank, but I think the table would move with it, so I'm fucked there.

As much as I wanted to get out of here, I was curious about who was at the door. Who would be my unintentional (possibly intentional?) savior? I listened carefully as Oliver's feet tapped across the floor. As he asked me, I kept my mouth shut. I didn't want him hurting Allen. I didn't want him hurting me. It's bad enough he has all intentions of juicing me up with something to wipe my memory. I don't need to piss him off any more than I already have.

"You…" Oliver let out a little panicked gasp, "You…"

"Bonjour, Oliver…" No. Fucking. Way. A faint smell of cheap wine and cigarettes floated through the air. There is no fucking way that's who I think it is. When he and I last saw each other, he didn't care if I lived or died. Hell, he threw himself at me, ready to choke me out. He wouldn't be the one to come to my rescue. I was just some stupid girl that wandered into Oliver's trap. I was the idiot that thought he was capable of change. That might just be my pattern. Maybe not everyone can be saved, but today, I think I might be the one being saved for a change, "You and I need to talk."