Ugh, I feel like crap. And I have nothing that's physically wrong with me! Apparently you can get sick from stress. Who knew?

Chapter 12

"Hey Lily, what are you doing down here in limbo?" Lizabeth asked, not taking her eyes from the computer screen in front of her. Her hands were flying across the keyboard so fast that it made my head hurt just watching.

"Oh, nothing. Just wanted to say good bye. I'm going on a little adventure to the mainland. The boss man said he's going to help me find my parents. Y'know that person I told you about? Doyle?"

"Yeah, I remember." She answered, quickly glancing at me before transfixing her eyes on the screen again.

"Well, apparently Syndrome found him. And apparently he was married once upon a time. And he and his wife had a little baby. And his wife somehow died in some mysterious accident. After which the kid they had was put up for adoption. Put up for adoption at the same orphanage that I grew up in. he remarried, they have a kid. A boy, he's 17, two years younger than me." I said smiling. Happy to unload this information on someone. Lizabeth raised her eyebrows.

"Really? That's sounds awesome. I'm happy for you Lily! Tell me everything, and I mean everything, when you get back, okay?" she said, stressing the second everything. I nodded wildly.

"Sure thing Lizzie. I gotta get going. I'll see you, okay?" I said eyeing the clock at the corner of a computer screen near me.

"Yes, good luck" she said. We hugged quickly than I ran off, taking care in throwing her a wave over my shoulder before I was out of sight.

---

I was on a plane now. On my way to the mainland with Ginger next to me. I wasn't nervous. I mean what's to be nervous about? I was just on my way to meet a man that was probably my father. So what if he gave me up for adoption after my mom died. That could all be chalked up to grief, right? I would be able to figure out who my family was. Its horrible yeah that my mom died. I had cried when I found out. But I guess you cant miss what you never had. But now I had the chance to find out who my dad was.

I'm trying not to get my hopes up. Its not like my father, who I haven't seen since I was two, when my mom died, is going to see me and say 'hey, I didn't mean to give you up. Come live with me and my family.' But, I couldn't help but wish. I could visit them on the holidays. And send Wesley, my half-brother, gifts on his birthday. I could be that awesome sister, the kind that got him out of trouble.

Maybe I could ask him about the book. Was it some sort of romantic gift? Is there a story behind it? If so, I want to know it. What about my eyes, did I get grey eyes from my dad? My hair? Did I get my mom's nose? What about my skin color? Who did I get the olive skin tone from? How did mom die? How did you meet her? Was she beautiful? Who did I get my height from? Did I look more like my mom? Or my dad? So nothing to be nervous about, right? Right?

I was shaken from my inner game of 20 questions by someone placing their hand over mine. My hands were folded together in my lap, I was looking at them. I brought my head up and saw Ginger looking at me. I looked away quickly and blushed. Why did he make me blush like a seventh grader? And why did he smirk whenever I did?

"Hey" he said. He grabbed one of my hands in his.

"Hey" I spoke into my lap.

"You nervous?" he asked. Awww, he cares. No stop that mind. Don't you dare.

"Course not" I said, wishing that I myself believed that.

---

"Hey, you sure you don't need me to go with you?" Buddy asked me for about the third time. I was already almost out the door when he asked me again. I did want him to come, but I felt this was something I needed to do alone. I took another look around the expensive hotel room. I still cant believe that he had gotten this expensive room. Not really a room, more like a suite. I had never been in a suite before. Its kind of cool. The bathroom had a Jacuzzi as a bathtub. And a separate dining room. And a kitchen. It was cooler than my room back on the island. It was amazing! Ginger was looking at me again.

"Yeah, I'm sure." I said.

"Well, good. I have more important things to do anyway" he said. God, he can be such a child sometimes!

"Then why did you even….you know what?" I said, sounding defeated. "I don't care. I just…I'll see you later" I walked out. I shut the door behind me and leaned against it. I took a moment to think that the next time I walked through that door I would have the answers to the questions I've been asking since I was a kid. I took a deep breath and went downstairs to catch a cab.

---

"…and you see, that's why I feel it's better for both parties if we just have you forget everything about Doyle Fortunson, and his family. That you just forget you ever came here. You walk out that door and stop asking questions. My client has a very important political career he has to worry about, and I hope you can see how it would just be best if this dirty laundry wasn't exposed." The man sitting in front of me told said. He wasn't my father, no. He was my father's lawyer. My father hasn't even said one word. He sat there reclining on his expensive leather couch, in his multi-story mansion, in the rich part of town that I always dreamed of living in. he acted as if someone's life wasn't ending right in front of him. I stared off ahead. Tears swimming around in my eyes. My daddy didn't want me….

"I…I…" I sputtered out. "I want to know….about the book. Where the red fern grows." If I came away with anything, I wanted it to be this. My father finally showed some kind of reaction. His eyes flashed.

"Well, I haven't heard of that book since, well since Lucietta was murdered." Lucietta, mom. Murder? "I gave that book to her, as a present when I was courting her. You see she was a beautiful woman, well before I found out what she was, that is. That was her favorite book when she was younger."

"But…what happened to her?" I asked. And odd tear or two slipping to the carpet. It was Doyle's lawyer decided to answer this question.

"I'm sorry, but my client is not going to answer that question." The chipper young lawyer said.

"Now please, I would like you to leave. Soon, before I ask the police to escort you out" Doyle said. I stood to leave. I found what I came for. As heartbreaking as it was. I was trying to keep strong. I didn't want him to see how much this was truly hurting me. I turned preparing myself to leave. But not before a voice stopped me. At first I was expecting it to be saying 'just kidding, come back here and give your father a hug.'

"And by the way, I would like the book back. It was a priceless family heirloom. And I would like it if it stayed in the family." Doyle said. I whirled around, gaping at him. After all this. After everything, he has the nerve to ask for the one thing I have to remember my mother. I stared at them. How could they?

"I wish I could, but I threw it away" I said. Enjoying the look on Doyle's face when the words reached his eyes. His eyes narrowed. I turned away. Smiling defiantly. I faced the door now, relishing my last few moments in this house. I was out of sight from the Doyle and his minion. I was stopped by a hand on my shoulder. I turned to see a young man. His hair was shaggy and black. Like mine. He had sad looking blue eyes. Like his.

"Hi, um…yeah, hey. I want you to take this. It should answer your of the question that you may have. I'm sure dad won't need It now." he thrust a manila envelope in my hands. I stared up at him clueless.

"Who….."

"Oh, of course. I'm Wesley. And hi. I'm your little brother. Well, technically half-brother. Now go quick. Dad means it when he says he'll call the cops." He said with a smile that showed that he learned from experience. Little brother?

"Brother?" I squeaked.

"Yes, Brother. Now hurry up Sis'. Hey sis' I like saying that 'sis'. Hehe. Now go!" he said and pushed me out the door. I walked my mind spinning. I quickly looked back at the door, only to see a black mess of hair disappear from a window. I turned and walked down the brick paved driveway and flagged down a taxi. When the taxi was safely on its way back to the expensive hotel I opened the envelope and poured the contents onto the seat next to me. What came out of the envelope was a packet of photocopied papers from what looked like a journal, a photograph of a red headed woman with a black haired little girl on her lap, and a couple of newspaper articles.

I examined the picture first. On the back it read Lucietta & Lily – age 2. I stared at the woman. And at the girl. There were quite a few similarities between the two. The little girl had the older woman's eyes. Her nose, her lips, her smile. They could have been mother and daughter. But then, they were, weren't they? Lucietta was my mother. She was so pretty. And then there was me, a little girl smiling a toothless smile and eyes shining. Could this really be me?

I picked up the articles and looked over them. One was clipped from the front page. It had a picture of a masked super hero. The headline read 'local superhero murdered by nemisis' I read over the article. Apparently this super named 'The Red Fern' whose power was the ability to control plants was killed during a fight with the current 'bad guy' she had sacrificed her life to save a nameless little girl from being crushed by one of his robots. They had a picture of the super saving the girl. The little girl appeared to just be two, with two long black braids that hung down her back. The little girl a lot like me.

The other article was smaller. An obituary of a woman named Lucietta Fortunson, wife of esteemed politician Doyle Fortunson, had died in a car crash. Even though the picture was in black and white I could see some similarities. I put the picture of me and my mother next to the picture of the super. Even with the mask on I could tell, they looked eerily similar. They couldn't be the same person. Could they? Could my mom have been a super? I put the articles down and picked up the packet of photocopies.

The taxi pulled up to the hotel and I got out. Taking great care in placing the articles back in the packet while keeping the packet out. I paid the man a walked into the lobby. I took a seat in one of the oversized arm chairs. I didn't feel like going back up to the room just yet. I flipped to the top paper trying to make sense of the papers that looked like they had come from someone's journal. I read through it quickly, with a couple of phrases sticking in my mind.

….out daughter was born today, she has her mother's eyes. Lucy wanted to name her Lily, after her aunt that raised her…

That 'Red Fern' super has foiled my plans again. If only she would stop showing up, I need to find out who her alter ego is. It would be easier to get rid of her that way.

…I paid that the technopath to hack into the NSA's files to find the information I needed. I feel so betrayed. My own wife, how could she? Our daughter. What if she becomes one of those freaks? I cannot have it known that I am married to one of 'those'. Not after how long I've fought to outlaw these menaces…

… the plan has been made…

…after all I paid the stupid technopath. He was supposed to wipe them both out! Stupid Lucy, she had to sacrifice herself to save that stupid child! They were both supposed to die in the explosion that robot caused…

…I cannot go on raising this spawn. I could just put her up for adoption; say I couldn't bear to be reminded of the wife I 'loved' so much, turn it all to somehow benefit my anti-supers campaign.…

…the child is gone, good. One less thing, now I need to rid the world of the supers. Those menaces have been causing one too many problems for too long…

My mind was blank. The words echoing through them. I stood. Gathering up the papers, and clutching them to my chest. I rushed my way over to the elevator pressing the button praying that it would come soon. I didn't want to break down in front of all these people. I kept blinking back tears. How could he have…my mother, his wife. He wanted to kill me? and for what? To further his political career? This guy was sick! He was crazy. He was my dad.

The elevator dinged signaling that it had arrived. I rushed in, only to run into a familiar red haired super villain. The packet of papers fell to the floor, along with the newspaper articles and the picture. And with it fell my will to stay strong. I burst out into earth shaking sobs.

"Lil? Um… are you okay?" Ginger asked, a little clueless on what it was he was supposed to do in this type of situation. I only sobbed even harder. All I wanted him to do is shut up and comfort me. I know that may seem a little selfish. But have you ever found out her your family was and then find out in the same day that your only surviving parent had wanted you and your mother dead? That your mom was a super that had died saving your life? No? So shut up and let me grieve.

I felt Ginger awkwardly wrap his arms around me. I still sobbed into his chest. I hope he wouldn't be to mad at the fact I was making his shirt all wet. I heard the elevator door slide open. I could feel Ginger tense. I heard a voice.

"Um…I'll go and take the next one" it said nervously.

"I think it'd be best if you do that" Ginger said. Jesh, he sounded menacing. The door slid closed again. I kept my eyes closed and could feel the elevator start going upward. I was still crying, crying so hard that it physically hurt. My head was pounding. I was moving now. My feet were lifted off the ground. I was being carried. I tried to take a break from my sobbing and tried to take some deep, calming breaths. Didn't work out so well. I cried some more. But this time a little quieter. Now the tears just fell silently from my face. I bit my lip to keep from screaming out. I was sad, I was angry. Pissed more like it. Jealous. Hysterically so.

The elevator door slid open again. I opened my eyes. My body shuddered. Ginger carried me out of the doors. Set me on the ground. He propped me up against the wall and returned to the elevator to gather up the papers I had let drop to the floor upon entering it. I watched him bend down and gather up all the papers in a neat little stack and putting it into the manila envelope. I was starting to calm down a little. The shuddering stopped but the silent tears still streaming down. He returned to my side. He held out the envelope. I grabbed it and held it to my chest like it was the only thing that was keeping me from flying off this earth and into space.

He plucked me off the ground. And held me close. He walked in silence stopping at a door and balancing me in one arm. He opened the door and walked in. He laid me down on the couch and walked into a separate room. He returned with a blanket. I was calmer now. the tears had stopped flowing. My head hurt. I must look so gross. I thought. He laid the blanket out over me and sat next to me and put his arm around my waist. I leaned on his chest and closed my eyes. I'm so tired. My mind wandered away. With the manila envelope burning against my chest.

---

I relaxed, for how long I don't know. I think that Ginger thought I was asleep because I could hear him whispering something. I strained to try and hear him, but trying to make it still look like I was asleep. I must have been doing a pretty good job since he continued on with his monologue.

"…you know when I saw you for the first time I was kinda pissed. But I was also kinda amazed. You cursed me out on your first day working here. None of the people that work for me have done as much. And when I saw you outside that elevator I was thinking about being angry. Why? I don't know. Maybe I was a little hurt that you didn't want me there. And when you burst out crying I was angry. But not with you, no never with you. I was pissed at whoever made you cry so hard. And as soon as you wake up I will find out who hurt you so and I will hunt them down and have them killed. I don't want to see you upset. Especially not if I could have prevented it… "

Awww, he's being so sweet. And he doesn't even know he's being sweet. He thinks he's lecturing out into empty space. But I could hear him. I could here every word. In the time I've known him he's never been this way sober. But is he sober? I took a deep breath, hoping not to arise any suspicion. I couldn't smell anything. So I guess he was sober. I wonder if he meant all he was saying. Well, I hope so. He thought I wasn't awake to hear him so maybe he was saying all this because he wanted me to know, but he just didn't want to say it. I guess he hadn't noticed yet because he kept talking.

"I don't know what I'm really trying to tell you right now. Which is good since you're not even awake to hear me rambling. But I've been thinking. I like you Lily, I like you a lot. And not just like, you know. Like, like like. I know that sounds so grade school, so corny. But I don't know how else to say it. I think I might…you know. Well I hope you know. I might love you. I'm going to try and just stop talking now. But I don't think I can. You see, that's what you do to me. when I want to stop talking something about you just makes me want to spill my heart out and give it to you on a silver platter…"

"Buddy?" I spoke out, breaking the illusion that I was still asleep. He tensed.

"How long have you been awake?" he said through clenched teeth. I paid him now mind. I lace my hand behind his neck a maneuvered myself so I straddled his lap. The blanket fell to the floor.

"Lily?" he asked, sounding nervous. Good, more fun for me. I smiled evilly. I shushed him. I leaned in close. I pressed my lips to his ever so slightly. I pulled away. He looked shocked.

"Are you upset, Ginger?" I pouted. His eyes lit. His lips tackled mine. He stood, taking me with him. He carried me to the bedroom. Déjà vu? Again. He dropped me down on the bed followed by him. It was the same as that night a couple months ago. Except I didn't feel any guilt. I didn't want it to stop this time.

---

Yeah…sooo…I'll leave what happens next to your imagination. Now that that's over I'm gunna go throw up. Enjoy your day. Or night. Whatever.