My body is awake before I am and the chlorine of the water stings as it passes between my lips. This time, though, I'm spitting it out without realizing it, choking on the water. There are strong arms around my waist, holding me up as my stomach heaves and water drips off my lips onto the hot tiles rimming the pool. My throat is sore from coughing and I can feel the heat of the tiles burning my knees. I keep my eyes shut even when I can gasp for breath again, my breathing shallow and uneven, matching the beats of my heart.

I register the fact that I'm being hugged now, the strong arms even tighter around my middle, the bare upper torso against my body stiff with worry and tension. Water trickles down my back from my hair, making me shiver in the bright sunlight. The second my form begins to tremble, the hold on me is tightened once more. I'm almost afraid it'll make it more difficult to breathe.

"Tin-Tin? Are you all right?" The voice is close to my ear and I raise my head, feeling the remains of the headache I had in the pool throb behind my temples. I faintly nod, daring to open my eyes to meet his.

Virgil is the one holding me.

Virgil, the one who saved me.

Virgil, the one I have to kill.

My blood runs cold through my veins as I hear the words in my head again. 'You will kill him'. They repeat in my mind like a wicked chant, over and over. If they were solid, they'd be sharp shards of glass, cutting me to pieces, engulfing me in their pain.

I didn't realize there are tears streaming down my cheeks until Virgil began to wipe them away. I glance up at him, unable to offer the reassuring smile I want to, unable to tell him I'm completely fine. I'm not. I've been ordered to kill him.

I manage to get my tears under control and move away from him. While my mind is still my own, my thoughts still coherent, I have to warn him. I have to tell him to get away from me, before I do something I don't want to do.

"What happened down there?" He asks gently, unwilling to let me leave his side. He keeps me back from the water, as if afraid I'll try to jump in.

"I. . .I don't know," I murmur, keeping my eyes on the tiles rimming the pool. I don't dare look at him. He'd know I'm lying.

A slender finger finds its way beneath my head and raises it, forcing me to meet his gaze. "You just decided to stay under long enough to knock yourself out?"

I shake my head and pull back, feeling guilt rise in my stomach. Why can't I tell him what happened? The answer is simple. If I tell him, he'll make me leave. He won't want anything to do with me; I'll lose him. On the other hand, he may not believe me. He may think I'm playing some kind of sick joke. If I don't tell him what's going on, will my mind be taken over again? Will I go through with the wishes of the terrible man in my head?

Will I kill him?

The questions run through my brain at the speed of light. I don't know what to do.

"Tin-Tin?" The concerned tone breaks into my thoughts and I make myself glance up again. "What happened?" He repeats, his eyes searching mine as if they will provide him with an answer.

"Nothing, Virgil," I murmur, my voice hoarse from the chlorine. My throat is dry, my tongue like sandpaper. "I was just. . .I just didn't realize I was still under water. I guess I just took a breath too soon."

He raises a skeptical eyebrow but decides not to pry. I let out a silent sigh of relief. This is our vacation - if I'd told him the truth, I'd be spending my time alone. I couldn't bear it. Even though staying near him was putting my own life in danger, and my health, not to mention his, I don't want to have to let him go.

I get a sudden surge of self-confidence. I can do it. I can override the man who ordered me to hurt Virgil. I don't care what it takes; I don't care what kind of pain I end up being put in. I can do it. I will do it.

That just brings another question to mind. Who is that man inside my head? Hearing his voice brings an odd feeling of recognition, but I can't place it. I suppose his identity isn't as important as how to get rid of him is right now.

Virgil stands and I allow him to pull me up beside him. "Let's get you upstairs," he says, almost more to himself than to me. I suppose he realizes I'm hardly paying attention to anything but my own thoughts.

How can I possibly get the sinister man out of my brain? There has to be a way.

I follow him wearily, letting him tow me along as he walks back to the hotel, through the crowd of spectators that had gathered to see what was going on. They slowly disperse and return to their activities around the hotel grounds.

Before I realize it, we're upstairs, inside the sheltered walls of our small but soothing hotel room. I pull away from him and cross the floor to the picture window on the far side, glancing down at the rolling waves of the ocean, reflecting the light of the setting sun. It sparkles and dances against the shore, making me despise it for appearing so tranquil when I'm far from it.

"Tin-Tin?"

I turn slightly, my eyes focusing back on the only reason I am able to stand here and look down at that sea; so much like the one surrounding the island, yet in its own way, an entirely different image for me to gaze upon. "Yes?"

Arms wrap around my waist and I lean back subconsciously, as I always do when he hugs me from behind. "What really happened out there?" Virgil asks quietly, his voice right next to my ear.

I close my eyes, trying desperately not to remember the events as they played out - the tightening of my throat as my air began to slip away, the throbbing of my head from the voice in my mind, the sickening feeling that I wasn't ever going to breathe again. "I. . .I had another attack, I think."

"You think?"

"I mean, I. . .I did. Beneath the water. Oh, Virgil, it was terrible!" I swallow slowly, feeling my heart pounding. I want to open up, to confide in him completely. I bite my lip so hard I can taste the bitter tang of blood on my tongue.

His expression darkens with concern. "Tin-Tin, maybe we should have you checked out by a doctor."

"No!" I protest quickly, maybe too quickly. "No, Virgil, it's fine. I'm fine." I smile faintly, trying to discourage his idea of phoning a physician. "It must just be a hereditary thing. They never hurt my father that much, right?"

"You're missing the point. Every time your father had one of these 'attacks', as we seem to be calling them, my dad brought in a doctor for him."

"And he checked out completely fine, remember? The doctor couldn't find a single thing wrong with him. I hate doctors, Virgil. Please don't make me see one."

He sighs heavily, releasing me and sinking down onto the large king bed beside the window. "Alright, no doctor. But Tin-Tin, if this persists, promise me you'll go to one."

I nod slightly, giving a tiny smile. "I will, Virgil, I promise."

"Good." He returns the smile. "Now, are you hungry?"

I nod again. "Very. Where's that menu? I could use some room service."

He grins, producing it from the bedside table. "Right here."

I take it from him, relieved to have dodged the subject for a while. Now, all I had to do was dodge the attacks. . .