Chapter 68: Of Broken Hopes and Dreams

Well guys, it's that time of year again. School's about to be back in session, which means the next couple weeks are going to be hectic. I go to a university that's a couple hours away from home, so I need to pack up everything before I move back into the dorms. And then classes start back up a couple days later. Things are going to be crazy, but hopefully not crazy enough that I won't be able to update soon. The next update should be in mid to late September, hopefully on the weekend. I'm gonna try and update like I used to.

So, after this chapter, I'm going back on a (hopefully) incredibly short hiatus. At least for me. I really don't want to do this, but like I said, real life gets in the way, and writing has to fall on the wayside. There's no other way around it guys.

Also, just to let you guys know, I won't be working on my Omniverse story until after I'm done with AF season 3. Like, I won't even be thinking about writing it. I got two stories already, plus another story I want to write for a different fandom, plus college. So you guys don't have to worry about that for now.

On with the chapter!

Two weeks later

Gwen tapped the side of her coffee cup. Unlike most other cafes, the cup was made of porcelain, so the tapping sound was much louder and sharper than it should have been. She immediately stopped when she became self-conscious.

She took a look at the magazines strewn over half the table. Every single one was about stocks and market shares and certain companies that rivaled the Carmichael business. The magazine closest to Gwen showed a picture of Phineas shaking hands with some official. She was about to look at it when her grandfather sat down.

Leaning against the chair, with his dark slacks and blue dress shirt with the sleeves rolled to the elbows, Phineas looked more like a tired dad than the head of an empire. On the magazine cover, Phineas was dressed sharply in a black suit, his beard trimmed neatly, his very appearance stiff. The man in front of Gwen was more relaxed, impeccably dressed yet casual in his demeanor. He had shaved his beard, but now sported a thick five o'clock shadow. And there was no cigarette hanging from his mouth. Gwen smiled dryly; it had easily become his trademark, or at least something she had personally associated with him.

"Read anything interesting?" Phineas gestured to the magazines strewn neatly in front of him. He took a sip of his coffee as he waited for her answer.

"Not in particularly," Gwen answered honestly. "Business isn't really something I want to get into right now."

"You mean, as a future career?" he asked. She nodded quickly. Phineas thought for a moment. "Well, you certainly have a good head on your shoulders. I can easily see you in the business world."

Gwen had to smile at that. "Thanks. But for now I'd rather keep my options open."

"Well yeah, you're fifteen," he snorted. "You shouldn't be making any life decisions at that age."

"Tell that to everyone else."

"I've tried." Phineas then set down his cup and looked her in the eye. "But I'm guessing this isn't what you wanted to talk about."

Gwen had to look away from his intense blue eyes. "You said you wanted to get to know me."

"That's true," Phineas said lightly. Gwen looked up to see that he was smiling warmly. "Why don't you tell me the basics, and we'll work from there."

Meanwhile…

Kevin stared at the envelope on his kitchen table.

It was thick and yellowish, the kind you stuck important documents into. Did those kinds of envelopes have specific names? Should he look it up? But it was kind of a stupid thing to Google, if he had to be honest. But isn't that what Google was for, to look stupid things up? It was arguably for much more, but with the way most people used it-

A door slammed. Kevin's head shot up, and he turned to see Sam running into the kitchen, out of breath. A green card was in her hands; he caught a flash of black wings on it before she tucked it into her back pocket.

"It's here?" Sam asked once she regained her breath. Kevin just nodded. She put her hands on her hips. "Well? Aren't you going to open it?"

Kevin violently shook his head. Sam looked at him in disbelief. "You've faced down High Breed and DNAliens without even flinching, gone up against an angry Ben, and yet you're afraid of this."

The petrified look on his face said it all.

Sam sighed heavily before walking over to the table and grabbing the envelope. Her fingers over the latch, she eyed Kevin. "Last chance." He gave her a weak, sheepish grin and gestured towards the envelope. Resisting the urge to roll her eyes, she undid the latch and slid the papers out.

Sam quickly read over the instructions on how to read the score and settled the papers onto the kitchen table. Kevin gazed over everything in a somewhat inquisitive manner, but it was Sam who sought out to actually read everything.

Suddenly she grinned, and a giggle bubbled from her lips. "What?" Kevin asked as she uproariously laughed, holding her stomach and nearly falling on the ground. "What? Is it that bad?"

Wiping pretend tears from her eyes, Sam finally gasped, "You passed."

Kevin stared at her before cocking his head. "I'm sorry, could you repeat that?"

Taking a deep, calming breath, she repeated in a much louder tone, "You passed."

Disbelieving, Kevin read over the papers himself, double checking everything. When he was finally convinced that she was right, he fell backwards into a chair and blinked owlishly.

He passed. He passed. He passed and got his GED.

He let out a victorious whoop and shot out of his chair. He grabbed Sam from off the ground and twirled her around, her feet swinging wildly, her arms latching onto his clothes. She was screaming, "Put me down! Put me down!" But she was too happy to care. When he did happen to stop, he gently put her on the ground but refused to let go, opting to instead press her to him.

"I couldn't have done this without you," he said into her hair.

"You probably could have," Sam told him honestly. "What are you going to do now?"

"I'm gonna tell my mom," he said proudly.

"Good. Celebrate with her first. We can have ours later." The lascivious half-smile and the half-lidded expression on her face made Kevin smirk.

And then Sam's expression morphed into a curious one. "Did you read all the papers though?"

Kevin furrowed his brow. "Yeah. Why do you ask?"

Sam broke out of the embrace and searched through the papers again. She picked one up and held it to him. "You got your GED, but you haven't taken the ACT or PSAT."

Kevin took the paper. "You mean those tests you and Carter and the others have to take in a year?"

"Unfortunately," Sam groaned. "We have to take one of those to get into college."

"You have to?"

"Most colleges won't accept anyone who hasn't taken one or the other."

"And that includes me," Kevin mused, setting the paper down.

"Only if you refuse to take it."

"Tell me; what's it like taking these things?"

"I honestly don't know," Sam admitted. She lightly shrugged her shoulders. "All I know is that taking AP and honors classes helps prepare you for them, and that you have to buy special books to help study for them, and that the first free trial for high schoolers takes place in the school."

Kevin raised an eyebrow. "First free trial?"

"Some kids opt to take them again to get a better score," Sam explained. "But those times you have to pay to take the tests. Oh, and I know some kids take these practice tests before they're supposed to take the real one to see how'd they do. You have to pay for those too."

"Seems like a giant waste of money," Kevin scoffed.

"Tell me about it," she agreed, nodding. "But we still have to take it. It's, like, a law or something."

"What if you don't want to go to college though?" he asked seriously. "What if you want to pick up a trade or something?"

"That I don't know," Sam admitted. "The teachers at school only push college readiness. Apparently, the more students that apply and get into a college, the more funding the school get. Doesn't matter if they drop out or want to go to a trade school, they have to be college ready." She rolled her eyes. "It's so stupid."

"No kidding," Kevin agreed. He looked at the paper again. "Do you still need to take the ACT or whatever to be a car mechanic?"

"No clue. You should probably look into it." She thought for a moment. "Taking all that aside, are you planning on telling the others soon?"

He let out a breath and turned towards the papers still strewn across the kitchen table. "Not yet. I want to make sure this sinks in first before I say anything. I might jinx it," he joked halfheartedly.

"You're not going to jinx it, you dork," Sam said with an eye roll. She held out his phone-when did she get it out? "Now, are you going to tell your mom?"

Kevin grinned and took the phone from her hands.

Meanwhile… (Again)

Carter slowly walked across her bedroom, sweat beading her forehead. Pain shot up her legs and through her torso, and the bandages still circling her chest itched and tugged at her skin.

"Come on, sunshine, you can do it," Pearl said encouragingly, standing behind the couch. Carter would have shot her a glare, but she was too busy concentrating on her footwork. That and she hadn't seen Pearl in years; it wouldn't do to yell at an old friend.

It was a long, arduous task, but Carter finally managed to walk across her large room and back again. She collapsed onto her bed, panting in exhaustion, pain shooting up and down her legs.

"Good job kitty-cat," Pearl said, clapping her hands. "A few more weeks of that and you should be able to walk just dandy."

Carter groaned pitifully and burrowed her face into her covers. The last two weeks had been hell for her. The first week was mainly spent on slowly draining the excess liquid out of her body and letting the wounds inside her heal completely. The second week was much better in comparison; most of her outer injuries could be cured in the healing tanks, and even the wound on her chest was steadily getting better.

The only problem now was walking. Her legs had seemingly been uninjured, but in truth there was much internal trauma. Carter didn't get all the medical jargon that would best explain her situation; all she knew was that something went wrong with her legs and now she had trouble walking. At least they weren't numb anymore. If she could feel pain in them, that meant she was recovering. And she had long since stopped using crutches to get around.

A few more weeks, and she would be fine. Carter sighed, happy that school had let out for the summer three days before she got injured. It was a happy, convenient coincidence.

Sitting on her bed, Carter turned to Pearl. "What's next?"

"I think that's enough for now," the older woman said. "I need to feed, and you have a visitor." The sly wink said it all.

Carter sighed and tried to get her stomach to settle. One part of her was happy to see Ben; he was her boyfriend, after all. Though she was also happy to see her friends. They couldn't visit the first week of her rehabilitation because it was too dangerous for her. And Carter didn't want anyone to see her so weak. She was the one person no one should have to worry about. And no one had tried to visit her, not even Ben. Sneaking into a hospital was one thing, but the Valentine manor was another dimension entirely.

Visiting hours were few and far in between, but Ben visited most days. He couldn't stay long, and they usually ended up drinking smoothies and watching something on Netflix. And Carter had definitely enjoyed it.

But there was one thing that always made her anxious to think about.

We totally kicked his ass by electrocuting him, and it was awesome, and I love you, and now Cordelia wants me to go to therapy.

…Just what the hell did that mean?

Ben hadn't done anything else since them, their interactions being as they always were. And Carter didn't want to bring it up-or more like, there was never a reason to bring it up. Half the time she was convinced that she misheard. If it hadn't been for Aquaria she would have continued to believe that.

What was she supposed to do?

"Something wrong, kitty-cat?" Pearl asked her suddenly, making Carter snap her head up to look at her. "You got all quiet."

"More like, I got all pensive," Carter corrected her.

"Oh, and why's that?" Pearl sat down on the bed beside her and put a hand on her shoulder. The gesture brought Carter back to when she was eight years old, when Pearl used to tuck her into bed and smile conspiratorially as the two of them shared secrets. They had been so close back then, but ever since Pearl went off the grid…

"It's more of a teenage girl thing," Carter said instead. "I might talk to Sam about it later."

"Oh. Well, that makes sense," Pearl said, shrugging. She got up and dusted off her jeans. "Though I was a teenager too, you know."

"Back in the early 20th century," the Goth retorted. "Things were different back then."

"True," the vampire conceded. "Well, I should send in your visitor. See you in the sunshine, kitty-cat." Carter gave a weak smile and wave as Pearl closed the door. A moment later Ben walked in, holding a carton with two smoothies in one hand and in the other a greasy take out bag. From the fumes wafting towards her, Carter deduced that it was chili fries. Smothering her mixed emotions to deal with at a later time, she put on a smile.

She attempted to stand up, and actually did so. She smoothed down her black tank top and shot Ben an ecstatic grin. "I can stand!"

"You can walk!" Ben cried out dramatically.

"I…can… LIVE!" Carter threw up her hands and fell face first onto the floor.

"Oh shit, not again." Ben quickly set down the junk food and went over to help her up. She had already hoisted herself into a crawl and was putting her legs in a crouch when he gently lifted her off the floor.

"Wow. Super strength," Carter said dryly, setting her bare feet on the ground.

Ben mimed a body builder pose. "Yeah, I work out." He gave a small chuckle before becoming subdued. "How are you feeling?"

"Like someone keeps stabbing my legs with thousands of needles."

Ben winced. "Ooh, that's bad."

Carter shrugged. "Better than not feeling anything at all."

"Yeah, that is worse." Ben gestured to the food. "You wanna eat?"

"Oh my god, yes," she moaned, slowly walking towards it. Ben was behind her, arms slightly outstretched to catch her in case she fell again. Carter made it to the desk and took out the boxes of chili fries. As she handed one to Ben, she asked, "What kind of smoothies did you get?"

"Mr. Smoothie's has this new menu of ice cream flavors," Ben said cheerfully. "Most of the stuff is pretty basic, but they did have this mint chocolate chip one. Too bad they didn't have crème de menthe," he added in a decent French accent.

Carter smiled fondly. "You remembered."

Ben looked at her shyly. "Yeah, I… I remember a lot of things you told me."

Carter averted her gaze so she focused intently on the box in her hands. Suddenly she blurted out, "So what flavor did you get?"

Ben started. "Oh! I just got this cookie dough one."

She groaned. "I need to try that one sometime."

He smiled at her despite the quizzical look on his face. "I didn't know you loved ice cream so much."

"Since my powers, for the most part, are cold, I need to be cold, especially during the summer. I eat so much ice cream, you cannot believe."

His brow furrowed. "And you don't get sick of it?"

"With all the flavors there are? No way." Carter took a sip of her smoothie and moaned in bliss. "I needed this so much."

Ben, who had felt rather uncomfortable by the noise his girlfriend just made, was eager for a distraction. "Yeah, eating hospital food must be awful after a while. Though this isn't technically a hospital…" He gestured lamely to her room.

Carter rolled her eyes. "No, but Cordelia's been making me eat a bunch of healthy stuff so I can get better faster. I completely understand why, and most of the stuff the cook sends up is pretty tasty, but sometimes…" She opened the box and ate a fry. "Sometimes you just need soul food."

Ben snorted. "Chili fries are good, but they are not soul food."

"…Yeah, good point," she conceded. She sat down heavily on the desk chair, absentmindedly rubbing one of her legs with her free hand. She was doing a pretty good job of hiding it, but Ben could tell she was still in a lot of pain. He looked around the desk and spied a collection of books and an assignment sheet tucked into one of them as a bookmark. He put down his carton of food, picked a book up and examined it.

"So I'm guessing AP English students get summer homework?" Ben asked as he turned the book to read the back.

Carter, who had been devouring her food, swallowed loudly. "All AP and Honors students get homework, Tennyson. You would know this if you took one up."

"Actually I do," he replied, putting down his drink. "I'm taking honors chem."

Carter's eyebrows shot up. "Really? So is Sam."

He turned to look at her. "Seriously? I never took her for a chemistry type."

Her eyes took on a thoughtful gleam. "The high school doesn't really offer much in the way of advanced classes when you think about it. It's especially true if you're someone who isn't particularly good in math or English studies. Sam's always been kind of in between, so it's been troublesome for her to find decent classes."

Ben held up a couple fingers and began to list. "You're an AP English person, Evan is a math and science guy…"

"He's taking AP Algebra II next year. His homework packet it huge."

"So glad I'm not taking that class," Ben said with a shudder. He turned back to the book. "So, what's your homework anyway?"

"I have to read three books from a selection and write essays on two of them, and write this report on the other. The book for the report has already been picked out for me, and it's such a bore." Carter rolled her eyes for emphasis.

Ben picked up his smoothie and sipped it. He asked, "Not a fan of Jon Krakauer, I take it?"

"I don't give two shits about Christopher McCandless."

"Harsh."

"I don't care."

"What about the other two?"

Carter perked up. "The Handmaid's Tale and Fahrenheit 451 are pretty awesome. I've already written the essays for them."

"Not much to do on bed rest, huh?" Ben finally set down the book he was holding and drank his smoothie.

"Yeah, it's pretty awful," Carter said blithely. "It's dull and boring and I love you and I can barely walk."

Ben started all of a sudden. "What did you say?"

"I can barely walk."

"No, before that," he said almost frantically.

"It's dull and boring?"

"No! Right in the middle!"

Carter's eyes widened. "Oh, you mean the 'I love you' part. Yeah, I can understand why you'd almost miss it. It's right in the middle of a bunch of other things. It could leave the recipient confused." She ended her flippant monologue with a steely glare.

Ben, who had put down his smoothie at this point, slid his hand into his hair. He averted his gaze and said quietly, "You caught me, huh?"

"I almost didn't," she admitted. Her glare had softened; she wasn't all that angry, not really. She was just confused and a little sad, and it showed. "Do you mind telling me what that was about?"

"…I was scared." Ben eyes drooped, and he let his hands fall to his sides. He suddenly had a defeated air surrounding him.

Carter furrowed her brow. "About what?"

"About…what'd you think if I said, 'I love you'."

She raised an eyebrow. "And it never occurred to you that I might not mind?"

He shook his head. "No. I mean, it's a big step in every relationship, and it was scary, and I just kind of blurted it out while you were still recuperating, and-!"

Carter stood up, ignoring the volts of pain hitting her legs thanks to the sudden movement. "Ben, I get it. You were caught up in the moment and it slipped out. I'm not concerned about that."

Ben, who still had that sad puppy dog look to his face, gave her a confused glance. "Then what are you upset about?"

She stared at him incredulously. "That you didn't follow up after all this time! I mean, you say the L-word, then when I'm allowed visitors you don't say anything more than that. You just acted like you never said it in the first place and went on like everything was normal."

Ben scratched the back of his head. "I told you, I was scared. I thought you were asleep and probably didn't hear it in the first place. I figured that if you didn't bring it up, I could pretend like everything was normal. That, and you were still recovering, you didn't need the extra stress," he added quietly.

She pursed her lips. Those were fairly valid points- Carter would have done it herself if the situations had been reversed. But there was still something bothering her about all this…

"Okay, I think I get it," she said slowly, trying to gauge his reaction. "And I think I know what I want to say to you."

Ben's stance suddenly grew wary, and he looked at her apprehensively. "You're mad at me, aren't you?"

"Oh, no, I'm not," she said hastily, waving a hand as if to dismiss the notion. "It's just, before I say what I want to say, I want to ask you something."

He quirked an eyebrow. "And that is…?"

She took a deep breath. "Did you fall in love with me because I saved your life?"

Ben started, blinking a few times. He slowly shook his head. "I don't understand. You've saved me plenty of times."

"Yes, but this time, you almost died," Carter pointed out. "If I hadn't done the surgery, we wouldn't be in this situation right now. This isn't like when I saved you all those other times. I mean, sure, you were probably near death, but it wasn't likely to happen. This time, you were literally about to die. Do you see where I'm getting at here?"

For a moment it didn't, but the sudden widening of his eyes showed the dawning realization.

"So I'm going to ask you again," Carter stated in a measured tone. "Did you fall in love with me because I saved your life, or did you start falling for me before that ever happened?"

His mouth opened, closed, opened again. She waited, expecting an answer, desperate for her fears to be dashed, but then- Ben's phone rang.

He held up a finger and gave her a sheepish smile. He then quickly went to the other side of the room to take the call. Carter stared after him for a moment before sighing. She righted her chair so that it was tucked into her desk properly. At this point she felt like collapsing on her bed and curling up under the covers.

Ben's hurried whispers subsided, and he walked over to her cautiously. "Kevin suddenly asked for all of us to go on patrol. He would have called you, but, well…"

"I'm still technically on bed rest." Carter gave an affectionate eye roll. She said quietly, "Go. Do your hero thing."

He went over to take her hand in his, but stopped himself and brought his hand back. "Do you want to continue this?"

"I don't know," she said quietly.

For some reason, that sounded so incredibly ominous. Ben wanted to hash things out with her, he really did, but he had to go on patrol and there were thoughts he needed to sort out quickly. There was too much turmoil going on inside him, and he suddenly felt like running, getting out of the stifling room that smelled vaguely like mint and felt like bliss-

"I'll see you later," Ben said before walking out of the room. As he was about to turn down the hall, he turned his head and saw the resigned form of his girlfriend, and the sad, defeated smile on her face.

She gave a little wave. "Yeah. Later."

On the other side of the world

The doctor hummed tunelessly as he sifted through the old newspapers. The building's cleaners were going to empty the recycle bins soon, and he wanted to get rid of his trash before that happened. He felt cheery, though he supposed it was from the brightly lit infirmary he was sitting in. It was such a nice contrast to the decaying building he had hold himself up earlier.

He quickly skimmed over the missing persons list on the newest Bellwood Bugle. The doctor was a bit concerned; he would have thought the parents of those three boys would have called the police and send out a missing persons' report by now. Vaguely he wondered why that was, but then he shrugged. He never did particularly wonder much about humans.

The doctor stood up and went outside the room, where the bins were. Still humming tunelessly, he dropped them, but then he looked up when he heard the hurried footsteps coming his way.

Three young boys were running at him, all dressed in jeans, black muscle shirts, and steel-toed boots. All three of them had bandoliers strapped around their chests and gun holsters at their waists. One of them was cradling his bleeding arm. Someone had done a makeshift bandage on it, but it was a crude thing made of rags.

"Dr. Chase!" one of them shouted. "Damian's been scratched by a bloodsucker!"

"Oh dear," the doctor murmured as he hurried back into the infirmary. He quickly opened the door, revealing the sheer whiteness of the room, and quickly went about looking for antibiotics. The two boys situated Damian onto the bed. The injured boy was scowling angrily.

"I almost had the son of a bitch!" he yelled out in a thick British accent.

"Language," the doctor chided as he took out proper bandages. "And I take it the vampire got away?"

"Of bloody course it did!"

"Calm down, Damian," said one of the boys. His parents were from China, the doctor remembered. He was rather stoic, his brown eyes betraying nothing, his large build a force to be reckoned with. His dark hair was cropped short, too long to be military style but close enough. He was tranquil and disciplined, a stark contrast to his temperamental friend.

"Mr. Liu is right, Damian," the doctor said gently as he went over to the group.

"Just call me Charlie, sir." The doctor smiled at the young Asian-always so polite, that one. He took off Damian's makeshift bandage and inspected the wound. Despite the amount of blood, the wound wasn't as deep as the doctor originally thought. It wasn't a clean cut, though. That would be troublesome.

"How is it, doc?" said the third boy of the group. Jackson Porter, the doctor remembered. The child was African-American, his hair in a small afro. The doctor recalled that he had had dreadlocks at some point, but he had been forced to cut them off, though he couldn't remember why. The boy was reedy, and had a nervous disposition to him. It didn't help that he was unusually tall for his age, and clumsy to boot. Still, the boy was good at his job, finding and killing monsters.

"Nothing too serious," the doctor said reassuringly. "It'll be simple to disinfect and bandage up. Though we'll have to administer the antibiotics through a series of three shots. You can never be too careful."

"I don't care as long as I don't turn into a leech," Damian scoffed. He was an arrogant lad, the doctor knew. Muscular yet lean, shaggy dark brown hair hanging over his dark blue eyes. The boy was attractive and knew it. He was also a braggart, if the doctor remembered correctly. Though that was to be expected; the boy had an admirable kill count. He would have done better if he wasn't so hotheaded, though.

"Now, now, Mr. Harker, call them by their proper names," the doctor said with a smile. He went over to the young boy with the kit in hand and started the procedure. His friends quickly turned away. The doctor had to repress a chuckle. They were experienced hunters, and yet a doctor's needle still scared them out of their wits. How comical.

Damian snorted. "Why call them vampires when you can call them what they really are: leeches."

"They're so much more than that, though." The doctor administered the first injection. He had to hand it to the Harker brat, he barely batted an eye at the pain.

"Yeah, yeah, you want to experiment on them, I know." The boy rolled his eyes. "I say just kill them all and be done with them."

"I'd take the doctor's words into consideration if I were you," Charlie said in his low, authoritative voice. "The more we study them, the more weaknesses we can discover."

"Yeah, but we already know all they're weaknesses," Jackson pointed out. "It's just a matter of having the firepower to kill them."

The doctor administered the second injection. "All very good points. Still, it wouldn't do to obliterate all the creatures of the night. There's so much more we can learn."

"But there's only so much we can learn from things that can't survive the sunlight," Jackson said anxiously, like he was waiting for someone to prove him wrong.

"Jack's right," Damian said, smirking. "So why bother learning when we can kill them?"

Charlie sighed. "There's no getting through to you, is there?"

"Nope!"

As the doctor injected the Harker brat with the final antidote, he began to wonder if Jonathon Harker was as foolish as his descendant.

Not gonna lie, I was torn over what the arc would be for season 3. It's such a hard season to write about for multiple reasons, and I had so many ideas as to how the story would be. I eventually settled on this. I got a good reason for this, don't worry.

So, thoughts anyone?