Well. Hi everyone. It's been a while. I'm so sorry I left everyone hanging for the past six months, especially swifty717, I know I was gonna help you beta read :( But long story short, I joined a new fandom and I'm very happy there, although it's given me barely any time to write. I wasn't planning on posting this (I wrote it before I basically left ) but I finally logged back on a few days ago and it made me remember how much I loved writing and the art I've created.

I know this chapter is cringy and unrealistic and overall pretty awful, but I wanted to update so you guys aren't completely in the dark. Will I be continuing this story any more? It's hard to say, although I have half of the next chapter written already. Thank you guys for the support.

This is a work of fiction. Whenever possible I used accurate medical information, but I am not an expert. You can correct me if you want, but I'm not changing anything unless it is hugely, blatantly, wrong.

THORNE

The following day, Jina Salem, Jamal Fayad, Akmal Jafri, and Marid Akbar were charged with child abuse and illicit dealings, after long interrogations of Cress, Thorne, and even Sybil Mira. Despite Cress's reiterations that it wasn't their fault, a trial was scheduled for the four in a few days, though there was no doubt they would be jailed. They were mainly hoping to find more about the "destination" they had planned on taking Cress to.

This left the police to deal with the two remaining problems: Sybil and Cress.

Thorne squeezed Cress's tiny hand as they waited for Sybil to be done with her questioning. Throughout the entire night, he had sat with her at the police station. It seemed heartless to leave her in the cold, darkly intimidating waiting room, though she insisted several times that she was fine. She had a funny nervous habit of playing with her waist-length hair, looping it around her wrists and fingers until she was snarled up in the golden mass. It was kind of cute.

"Both of you may come in now," the head police officer called through the door. When they walked in and sat down, Sybil was nowhere in sight.

"Your legal guardian has been taken into custody and will remain so for around a week before she goes to court," the man told them. "I think we're done with interrogations for now. The reason I brought you in here was to figure out what will be done with you." Glancing at Cress, Thorne saw her tiny lips press together as her hands continued to fidget.

"The first question is whether or not you would be willing to testify in court," the officer said. "Cress could provide evidence of all of Ms. Mira's past wrongdoings."

But Cress was already shaking her head. "No, no, no," she cried. "I can't do that to Mistress Sybil."

Thone grimaced, reminded again of Cress's overly forgiving, naive nature. The police officer seemed startled. "I'd like to remind you that this woman has allegedly abused you for your entire life, and she sold you to illegal child smugglers just yesterday."

She didn't budge from her stance. "I will not testify against her. I don't mind if you put her in jail, but I'm not going to be a part of it."

"Well... all right, then," he said awkwardly. Clearing his throat, the officer moved on. "The next issue we need to address is where you will stay."

"She's not going back to the orphanage," Thorne blurted out. At the other two's surprised glances, he realized that was a pretty strong statement and tried to backtrack. He didn't want it to seem like he cared that much about Cress. "I mean... once Sybil Mira is in jail, there won't be an orphanage anymore, will there?"

The officer considered, then shrugged. "I'm sure someone will take over the orphanage. I doubt it will close down entirely. That reminds me... since someone is refusing to provide evidence against Ms. Mira, I can ask one of the orphans. Surely they'll have received the same treatment as you did."

Cress didn't respond, sinking down in her chair in a sullen way. Thorne knew he needed to step in or else Cress would be sent to a random foster care center far, far away.

"But right now there's no one to take over the orphanage yet, right?" he pushed. "So Cress will have to go somewhere else. But she's in the middle of chemotherapy treatment for her leukemia, Officer. Her hospital is in the Bay Area. She needs to stay in California."

"I'm sure we can work something out. But who's paying for her treatment?"

Not knowing, Thorne glanced at Cress. She managed to mumble, "Sybil."

"Oh. That's not good."

"I agree," put in the officer. "Since obviously she will be unwilling to continue paying for the treatment, we'll need to think of a new arrangement. By law, Miss Crescent has the right to request medical treatment, no matter what her guardian does. I'm sure that between the hospital and us, we can help cover some of the cost, although that can only last so long."

"But where is she going to stay?" When Cress remained mute, and the officer wrinkled his brow like he neither knew nor cared, he pressed on with even more determination. "Officer, Cress deserves to stay somewhere safe and comfortable with people who care about her. She deserves it."

The policeman surveyed him. "Since you seem to care so much, why don't you give her a place to stay?"

"W - what? Me?"

"Yes, you." Now there was amusement in his voice. "Aren't you that Carswell whatever? You must be at least eighteen. I bet you've got plenty of money. Enough to help take care of a girl."

Thorne sat dumbfounded, wondering how that idea had never crossed his mind. Equal parts elation and dread, he turned to Cress and asked, "Would that be okay with you?"

"I suppose so." Her lips trembled over the words, and Thorne couldn't read her face. Was this the best decision possible? Or was he about to ruin another person's life the same way he had ruined his own?

Several hours of heavy discussion and monotonous paperwork later, Thorne was granted custody of Cress. The authorities reiterated several times that this was only a temporary arrangement, so he couldn't get too attached, but he was still happy. He told himself that he was doing this for Cress. He was sheltering her from the cruelties of their messed-up country's foster care system. He definitely wasn't doing it because he liked having her around. Or because he loved the sound of her sweet voice. Or because he admired the way she fought her disease.

The police nodded in farewell and he exited the room with an air of triumph, expecting to see Cress waiting for him with a glowing look of gratitude and joy. What he was doing for her was a huge deal.

Instead, he found a very sleepy, groggy, grumpy girl waiting for him, practically wrapped in a blanket of tangled hair. Upon her appearance, he realized how tired he was. "Uh... you okay?"

"Yeah," she said scratchily, rubbing her eyes. "Where are we going now? Time for breakfast?"

Thorne checked his watch. "Actually, it's nearly one. We've been here for hours. Are you tired?"

"N - n - not at alllll," Cress yawned.

Laughing, Thorne told her that was fine. "My car's in the parking lot. You can sleep while we drive."

"Drive where?"

"Just a place I know. I hope you're hungry."

CRESS

Jolt. Bump. Screeeech.

It was impossible to prevent the squeaks of fear from slipping out as Thorne drove toward downtown. Well, not really drove. More like jerked, swerved, and speeded toward downtown. Those blissfully anticipated moments of sleep were a far-off dream now.

Then she remembered that she was sixteen, and in an alternate universe a normal, non-sick Cress was learning how to drive. That made her laugh out loud, so abruptly that Thorne whipped his head around. She'd never thought about that. Driving wasn't on the top of her bucket list.

(As my beta reader pointed out, quite creepy for a minor to be alone with an older guy but this story is a mess anyway so I don't really care)

The thought of being responsible for a vehicle sobered her. Maybe even if she wasn't sick she wouldn't have learned to drive. Even if you managed to control the car - which Thorne most definitely could not - you couldn't control the outside forces. So many other cars, other people, other obstacles in the world. A single instant, a misplaced press of a pedal, could cause an accident. It could uproot the lives of many people. It could even take lives.

Unpredictable and uncontrollable wasn't Cress's thing.

Cress clutched the seatbelt for dear life as he made another hairpin swerve. She didn't know whether to laugh or cry about the fact that he didn't seem to realize anything was wrong.

Honestly, she didn't know whether to laugh or cry about this whole situation. Everything was happening so fast. She made a pro-con list in her head like she would for a technology prototype. Pro: Carswell Thorne. Con: Far away from Winter and the hospital. Pro: Carswell Thorne. Con: Reckless driving. Pro: Carswell Thorne. Con: Possibly my personal safety.

Trying not to concentrate on her uncertain future, Cress watched sights roll past through the window. This was her first time out of her small hometown in the Bay Area - an event she had been waiting for her entire life. They weren't even in the busiest area of LA, and she was already overwhelmed. The buildings were bigger and flashier, made of glass and steel. Colors and lights jumped out at her, adding a dimension of vibrancy and liveliness to the scene. Palm trees stretched up to achingly tall heights while sea breezes ruffled the feathery green tops, a natural environment within urban modernness.

They were still in the outskirts of the city, but the skyline Cress had spent hours studying was visible on the horizon. Behind that, more buildings and smaller skyscrapers seemed to stretch into infinity. She tried to pick out the location of the shopping mall where Thorne had rescued her, but it was impossible, as there were too many similar buildings and landmarks. Cress shuddered as she thought about what would've happened if she hadn't outwitted them. She would've been lost into the chaotic labyrinth in minutes. LA was huge. No one would ever find her.

There was another pro for her list. Thorne had saved her life. Nothing could ever repay that.

"We're here," he stated a few moments later as they rolled into a parking lot. Cress breathed a tiny sigh of relief as the beast of a car rumbled to a stop. Turning down a side street had led them to an alley bordered by some small restaurants and shops, many run-down and old. A small sign above the shop they were closest to read Golden Safari Restaurant.

"I know it doesn't look like much, but they have the best African food in the city," Thorne told her. "The cooks are from some town in the Sahara Desert."

Cress smiled and nodded, trying to quell her nerves. Despite the fact that she had spent a whole day with Thorne - and spent years researching him, something felt different. He was doing so much to help her. He was a true hero. It was impossible not to feel intimidated.

Luckily, the restaurant was deserted - dealing with paparazzi was not how Cress wanted to spend her day - and the staff served up their food right away. Food was a good thing. They could concentrate on eating and not the awkward silence drawing out between them.

Staring down at her plate, Cress encountered more food than she could possibly eat, the likes of which she had never seen before. An orangey-brown sauce over mysterious chunks with brown rice on the side made up her plate. Thorne was already halfway done, and still shoveling more into his mouth. As Cress had learned at the festival, the guy could eat like a horse.

He noticed the apprehensive stare she was giving the food and nudged her from across the table. "Try it. It's really good."

"I've never seen anything like it before. What is it?"

"Seriously? Well, you haven't lived until you've tried curry." Cress resisted the urge to raise an eyebrow. While Thorne ate out every night at these sophisticated places, she was actually fighting for her life in the hospital.

Tentatively biting into one of the chunks, she found that it was good. Warm, rich, exotic flavors filled her mouth. "What are these chunks?"

"Potatoes, of course."

"Oh." The tender golden chunks looked nothing like the lumpy gray things Sybil would boil for them. "I didn't recognize them." She could feel Thorne's curious gaze on her and braced for awkward questions. What was the irritable expression Dr. Clay used for people like that? Bluntly, irrepressibly, obnoxiously curious.

"What did you eat in that orphanage?"

"Well... we didn't have a lot of money, obviously, and Sybil was no cook so most of the time we made our own meals. You know, normal stuff. Toast and cereal for breakfast, oatmeal if we were lucky. Sandwiches and sometimes just bread for lunch and dinner. Vegetables if Sybil could get them cheap. Sometimes she just bought us fast food," Cress shrugged. Not fancy, but it wasn't that bad.

Thorne didn't respond. Cress looked up to see that his gaze had gone slack, his blue eyes softer than usual. The fiery feeling she got when people underestimated or pitied her for being small, or a girl, or an orphan, or a cancer patient, sparked up. She had spent her whole life trying to be more than just a diagnosis on paper. More than an identification document with blank spaces where her parents' names were supposed to be.

"Don't feel pity for me. Not all of us are movie stars."

"I know that. I just... sometimes I forget."

"Oh, yes. Everyone forgets things."

"Was that supposed to be sarcastic?"

"I don't know. But I don't blame you. I'm just sick and tired of always being forgotten." Silent for the next few minutes, Cress picked at her meal. She hoped the orphans were okay. No matter how much they ostracized her, a part of her heart would always belong to the little community.

Thorne stood up, stretching and winking at her in his normal way, yet it seemed more forced than usual. "I would apologize, but that doesn't feel right. Instead I'll say this: Crescent Moon, you will never be forgotten by me."

THORNE

"So, where are we going next?" his companion asked as they left the restaurant, hearts light and bellies full. "Since you're my temporary guardian now?"

"I was planning on discussing that with you," Thorne told her, leisurely strolling down the street. "I don't think you should stay here in LA. It's too far away from your hospital and we need to be prepared in case... anything happens." Glancing shiftily at Cress, who didn't seem daunted by the mention of her illness, he continued with the idea he'd thought out.

"At first I was worried because I thought I would have to stay here for my movie shooting and I couldn't go back with you, but they told us yesterday that we're not shooting in LA." Cress's eyebrows shot up with hope. He took a breath. "We're shooting in Northern California. Hearst Castle, as Rapunzel's tower."

"So that means..."

"Yes. I'll rent a house and you can stay there. And I think I can help pay for your treatment."

Cress looked at him with such faith and trust that he felt embarrassed. "Thank you, Thorne. Everything you've done for me... it means a lot. Not just the money. Your kindness. Your compassion. You're truly everything I thought you would be."

And for the first time, he felt that he deserved the praise. He ignored the guilty little voice nagging at the back of his brain and let himself live. He was living for this bright-eyed dreamer girl. Living for a world without paparazzi, and simply the small pleasures of life like Cress's smile. Living for other people, not just himself.

Living for life. You couldn't control how long it was, but you could control the people you spent it with.