A/N: Hello! Here's another chapter for everyone! Thank you so much for those of you have been reading and/ or reviewing! I really appreciate it! I hope you enjoy! Please don't be afraid to comment and criticize! Need all the help I can get!
Disclaimer: The characters belong to a Ms. Kelley Armstrong!
After class, instead of heading straight to lunch, I instead headed up to Ms. Van Dop. She had insisted that morning that I would have my bandages replaced after class. I had knocked on her door, and without saying a word, she pulled it open and dragged me in, sitting me down and getting to work.
It was quiet for the five minutes she put them on, her just doing her job and me watching quietly. I still felt a little nauseous, and the short discussion with Derek wasn't helping at all. What did he know? What did I already know? He couldn't possibly think that I could see ghosts, could he? No one believes that, not really. Sure people will humor a good story or two from others, but they wouldn't believe you if you just started talking to yourself in the middle of a line. No, instead they would just ship you off to a house similar to this one or worse. They didn't automatically assume that you talk to dead people.
So he probably didn't know. He probably was just referring to something else. But what if he did know? What if he knew the truth? What if I had someone who believed me? Who took me seriously?
It made me feel… hopeful, yet, it also made me terrified. To confide and trust someone that much, when they could destroy you with a single sentence, with a single word.
Schizo.
I shook my head. No, he wouldn't know. I needed to stop thinking about such things. It would only be painful if I were to get my hopes up.
I looked up to Ms. Van Dop as she finished the rest of the bandaging, checking to make sure it was tight enough.
"Your wounds still look raw. You most likely won't be able to take off your bandages for another day or two. I do, however, want you to air them out more often. During your classes and during dinner, I want you to take them off, then re-wrap them. Do you understand?"
I nodded, pulling my hands away and starting to get up. She stood up with me. "I believe you're aware that it's your week to do laundry. You may want to get started today. I suggest doing one or two people a day, that way you're not doing too much or too little."
"Thanks, I will." I said quietly. We walked to the door and she pulled it open for me. Before I took off down the hallway, she stopped me for a second more.
"I almost forgot to mention. Your aunt has been insisting to check up on you. We've allowed a visit. She will be here tomorrow before lunch to pick you up."
I smiled happily. "Really? Is my dad going to be there?" Ms. Van Dop's frown deepened.
"That isn't my business. I've told you what I know." With that, she shut the door and went back to work. I shrugged and happily went down stairs, ignoring how sick I felt. It would be nice to see my Aunt Lauren after everything. Maybe I could prove to her and my dad that I was getting better, and they could put in a good word to the nurses.
By the time I had gotten down to the dining room, mostly everyone had already finished and was headed to do either their chores, homework, or whatever else. Derek was the only one left at the table, sitting quietly and writing something down, while occasionally shoving a few bites of food in. As soon as I had gotten my food, I swallowed and sat down across from him, instantly nervous.
He didn't look up, just continued on writing, his brows scrunched and his eyes narrowed, trying to work out whatever was in front of him.
I took small bites of my food, trying to swallow without barfing everything back up. Food still tasted horrible. Everything tasted like sand. Even the strawberries, which were a personal favorite, tasted more rotten than anything. After only taking a few bites of my meal - again- I shoved the plate to Derek.
This time, however, he shoved it back, putting his pencil down and looking up at me.
"Why haven't you been eating." He asked, although, it sounded more like a demand.
I shrugged, trying to look casual. "I haven't been hungry." I said quietly. I went to stand up, but he reached over and placed his hand on my shoulder. I flinched slightly as he roughly pushed me down. I gasped a bit, but didn't move. His grip wasn't hard, but it was stern enough to make me feel like I was in trouble.
"Stay." He demanded. He pulled back and folded the paper he was writing on, putting it into his pocket along with his pen.
"I'm not a dog." I grumbled, crossing my arms. I didn't move though, getting the hint. He wanted to talk, and honestly, I had a few questions of my own.
He glared at me for a second. "Eat."
"Why? So I can barf it all up again?" I snapped.
His face went blank. "So you've been sick?"
I blushed and looked away. I didn't want him, or anyone else knowing about it, but it looks like I was failing at keeping things a secret anymore. First Rae and Liz, now Derek.
"Probably just a stomach bug." I mumbled quietly. I turned back to him. "Why do you suddenly care, anyway? You were more than happy to take my food this morning."
He shrugged. "Simon told me not to take your food anymore unless you ate a good amount first."
That explained a bit. Simon seemed to care more about others than his brother. Speaking of which…
"You two don't look related." I stated.
He gestured his fork to himself. "Adopted." he took another bite and looked at me, seeming to debate for a second before speaking.
"Are you familiar with the word 'Necromancer'?"
I looked at him curiously. He wanted to talk to me about vocabulary?
"Ne-necromancer?" I said, trying out the word. He grunted, which I took for a yes. "No, can't say I have. Why?"
He motioned to my plate. "Take two bites. I'll continue." I glared, but couldn't honestly be mad. I figured it was kind of sweet, in a weird, deal-making, antisocial way. Guess when I felt nicer, I would have to thank Simon for looking out for me.
I sighed, and quickly took my two bites, swallowing and shutting my eyes, fighting off my nausea. I motioned for him to go. I heard him put his fork down.
"How long have you been seeing ghosts, Chloe." He rumbled. Again, a demand.
I snapped my eyes open and stared. He sat perfectly still, his eyes glaring into mine. There was no humor, no weariness, just… curiosity. Guarded curiosity.
I felt my palms start to sweat. Was this a trick? A dream?
"I-I-I d-don't s-see ghosts." I stuttered out. He sighed angrily and pushed his food tray to the side, leaning forward towards me.
"I told you before. Don't lie." I leaned back a bit, desperate for some distance. He didn't budge, his eyes never leaving mine.
"How long."
"H-how do you know I'm not just a schizophrenic?" He leaned back slightly at that. He opened his mouth but was quickly interrupted.
"Derek! You said we would talk together! As in, all three of us!" Simon said, exasperated. He walked in from the kitchen and took a seat at the end of the table, with Derek to his right and me to his left.
"S-S-Simon?" I said, jumping slightly. What was going on? I looked between the two of them, confused. Simon had a slight tension in his shoulders, but continued smiling at me and Derek. Derek straightened up and mumbled something under his breath. Simon shrugged and looked back to me.
"This is going to sound.. Weird. But you're not the only one with strange… abilities." He said, rubbing the back of his head. I looked wide eyed at the two of them, before laughing slightly. They both looked at me, surprised.
"What is this? A superhero movie? Is this the part where you take me back to meet the rest of the X-Men?" I shook my head. Derek looked confused, while Simon was attempting to sputter something out.
"Listen. I know there's something wrong with me, no need for you two to tease me about it." I said, getting up. Again, Derek pushed me back down. I barely had time to yelp before his hand was instantly off. I stared at him, a little scared. He had just gripped my shoulder for a second, but I could already feel a bruise starting to form.
"Sorry." He muttered, avoiding my eyes. Simon jumped in.
"Look, do you want proof?"
I shifted my gaze towards him. "Proof of what?" I asked quietly, my hand on my shoulder. These guys were crazy. Sure, they may have acted nice, and it would've been nice for someone to know about me, but they were just crazy. Crazy kids in a crazy house.
"Proof that you're not the only different one." He said, determined. I looked up and met his gaze. For the first time, there wasn't any humor. He looked serious. I moved my gaze to Derek, who now had his hands under the table, looking away from the two of us. He almost looked ashamed.
Could it hurt to hear them out? Besides, I was kind of being held against my will. Might as well get it over with.
"Fine. Prove it."
Simon gave a big smile before running into the kitchen and grabbing a spatula.
Crazy. Definitely crazy.
He sat back down and reached his hand out, placing the spatula in the middle of his upturned palm.
"Derek?" He asked, giving him a quick look. Derek tilted his head a bit before nodding toward Simon, his eyes darting around the house.
"Cool! Now Chloe, watch closely." I nodded and moved my eyes toward his palm. I heard him mumble something, then after a second, curse.
"Damnit. Here…" He muttered the words louder this time. They didn't sound like English, or any other language that I was familiar with.
All of a sudden, the spatula raised about two inches.
I looked between the spatula and Simon, my mouth gaping open. "W-wait… this has to be.."
"A trick? Go ahead, movie girl. Stick your hand underneath and feel for strings." I quickly reached out and felt below and above the spatula. Nothing. It was really floating.
As I wiggled my fingers around underneath, Simon grabbed my hand and held it, letting the spatula fall. I jumped a bit in surprise.
"See? All real!" He said, smiling.
I was pretty sure my eyes would be permanently wide after this. I kept staring at the spatula. Sure, I'd seen tricks on T.V., but this was different. There were no magnets, no strings, Simon had a short-sleeved shirt on… I couldn't think of how else he would do it. I looked to Derek, but his gaze was averted, glaring at something in the corner of the room. I looked back to Simon and slid my hand out of his.
"W-what are y-you?" I asked quietly. Looking between the two of them. Was it just Simon? Or was it both of them. My gaze lingered on Derek a second longer. He had shifted, looking uncomfortable, before looking back up at me.
He raised a hand to stop Simon from answering.
"How about we make a deal. We tell you what you want to know, and you tell us what we want to know."
I hesitated for a second, then agreed. They might have answers, heck, maybe they may know what attacked me in my classroom.
"We'll have to continue this conversation later." Derek said, getting up from his chair. He ran his hands through his hair real quick before continuing. "Ask the nurses to go outside around four. We'll be out there." I nodded and started to get up before Derek stopped me… again.
"Wait." He demanded, not touching me this time. He went to the kitchen and opened the freezer. I didn't see what he had in his hand until he put it on the table. As soon as he did, he turned and left, heading upstairs.
My eyes followed him until he was out of sight before looking down to see a bag of frozen peas. I looked at Simon.
He gave a small smile. "I'm guessing it's for your shoulder. He pushed on it, remember?" My eyes widened in surprise.
"Oh.." I looked down at my shoulder, lifting my sleeve up a bit. Sure enough, the area was red and sore. I let my sleeve drop and put the ice pack on the area. I looked back up at Simon, seeing his face pale a bit.
"Is.." he cleared his throat. "Is it bad?"
I shook my head. "No. It's a little red, but I bruise pretty easily. It's not even that sore." Simon looked a bit relieved.
"Listen, don't be so scared of him, okay? He really doesn't mean it. It's not his fault." he said in a bit of a rush. "He just can't control his strength all the time. He tries really hard to, but sometimes he slips.."
"His strength?" I asked, cutting him off from his rambling. He nodded, getting up to stand with me. "Yeah… part of his… condition."
"What are you two?" I whispered. He gave a small grin. "Derek said we'll talk later. You have laundry, right? I have to finish a few assignments before I get started on chores. So we'll all talk together later." With that, he patted my good shoulder and walked off, following his brother.
I gave a sigh and, after putting the ice pack back in the freezer, made my way downstairs to start the laundry.
