Author's Note:

Well, here is the next chapter. It took me less time :) Yes, be very proud. I already started the next one- so hopefully it won't take too long too? Anyway, there isn't anything else to say this time so enjoy and as always comment!!

FuturePrincess

You Again?

Chapter 16

Okay, there is a possibility I might just be insane.

Okay, maybe it isn't just a possibility or even a might.

Fact: I am insane.

There is no other reason to explain my behavior.

I skipped work.

I can't believe it.

I actually called Pam's desk and pretended to have a coughing fit, all with Darien sitting opposite me, repressing his mirth.

"Aw, I hope you feel better soon sweetie. We all miss you. Even though it's just been a day. Brad's stuttering more than ever. Poor boy doesn't know what to do with himself."

And you are not allowed to judge me right now! I did not skip work just because Darien asked me to.

In fact, I fought.

Yes, I did.

I told him he was insane and immature. Both of which I still fervently believe, but then he kept pestering, being annoying, and then he told me I was lame.

Lame!

I am sooooo not lame. If anything, he is lame.

And, I know, I know, it may be a bit immature to give in just because he called me something as lame as "lame" but I am not lame.

And, also, just to be honest, I don't think I can work today. I'm too tired.

I woke up at 6 for heaven's sake!

If I look at a manuscript right now I would probably start doodling bunnies on the side and if I had to speak to another human being I'd be incoherent. So it is probably best that I miss work today.

Darien has now seen me at my worst so it can only get better, right?

Well, I can always hope.

Even if it is in vein.

And that is how I ended up here, crossing my arms and glaring at Darien once more.

"What now?" I asked.

I just hung up with a very sympathetic Pam and now I'm feeling guilty for making her sympathize with my nonexistent illness.

Darien shrugged.

"You suggested hooky so what does hooky entail?"

"I suggested hooky so you have to suggest the particulars of said hooky." Darien replied, now scanning the comics of the paper- occasionally he'd crack a smile and show me what amused him. I, of course, did not react on principle… even if I agree that they are pretty funny.

"Nope, you have to come up with a plan and if you don't in the next sixty seconds I'm calling Pam back and gushing about my miraculous recovery… or going back to sleep." I added the last part quickly because in all probability that would be my chosen path.

But Darien was spared by the doorbell ringing, incessantly.

"What the?" I muttered as I headed toward the very annoying noise that had interrupted us.

Ding. Ding. Ding. Di-di-di-di-ding. Di-ng-ng.

Some people just don't have any patience!

"Calm down!" I yelled before I yanked the door open to personally reprimand whomever it was outside my door.

But then I completely forgot about my previous annoyance.

"Oh my gosh!" I couldn't help squealing and then I jumped him before he could utter a word.

I saw a glimpse of mischievous blue eyes, which I knew mirrored my own perfectly- the only thing that was really the same about us, and disheveled light brown hair before I greeted my visitor with a vise hug.

"Uh…" He coughed a little, trying to breathe, "Sere, I miss you too, but could you try to not kill me before we even exchange pleasantries?"

Despite his words, he returned the hug with the same fervor, not even trying to loosen my grip.

When I finally let him go, I rested my hands on his shoulders- I had to reach up a bit because of the great height difference.

"You're so… big." I managed.

He smiled wryly, "You've gained a pound or two too, sis."

I laughed.

"Not like that you dufus."

And it was true, he hadn't gained an ounce of fat, he'd just grown even taller somehow. Or it seems like he has. Sammy doesn't have the same body issues I do- mine being that I don't actually have one—a body, I mean. He's actually semi-normal, but more built than some, but he looks thinner than last time I saw him which worries me because… what if he isn't eating right? What if he's been starving in school and I haven't known?

"Have you been eating?" I asked.

He rolled his eyes. "Look whose talking."

He had a point. I don't have any "meat on my bones" (as dad always said) either.

Then I noticed something else, "Sammy!" I reprimanded, purposely glaring at his now shoulder length brown/dark dirty blond hair. "You look like a hobo."

"Lay off the complements Sere, you'll over-inflate my ego."

"You're cutting that thing." I pointed to the top of his head.

"Careful, you'll offend it."

Then Sammy wasn't looking at me anymore. His previous humor completely disappeared and he was glaring at something behind my back…. And then I realized… he was glaring at someone.

I turned and, yup, just as I thought Darien was standing a few feet behind us, his hands in his pockets with an expression that mirrored Sammy's.

Well, that is pretty confusing. Sammy, I could sort of understand the reaction- sort of- but Darien's reaction is just out of left field.

"Sammy, Darien. Darien, Sammy." I introduced the two but neither made a move to acknowledge the other with anything besides a suspicious glare and narrowed eyes.

"And he would be?…" Sammy asked, now looking only at me, dismissing Darien's presence entirely.

He looked angry.

Okay… This is just weird. Maybe I'm really tired but I don't understand anything going on around me and I do not understand the sudden tension that has now completely eliminated the previous joys of reunion.

"Darien is the newest author of Holmes and, coincidentally, an old acquaintance from high school." I said, giving him a questioning look. Why was he acting so odd?

"And he's here right now," He paused to glimpse the time on his watch, "at seven in the morning for what purpose exactly?"

He gave me a meaningfully reprimanding and angry look.

…

And that is when I realized what he must be thinking.

My hair is still wet, I'd only donned on a pair of gym sweats and loose sweatshirt… and Darien is here.

The fact that Darien is dressed properly, unlike me, and is not in any way wet, also unlike me, must not have registered in Sammy's hasty mind.

I glared back at him.

How could he think such a thing?!

How could he even know of such things?! He's… well, he's 21, but he's still my little brother!

I slapped him upside the head like I had a million times before growing up.

"Glad to know I'm not the only one that brings out her violent tendencies." I heard Darien's words distantly, I was completely focused on my brother's perverted mind.

"Samuel Shingo Tsukino," the name came out in a dangerously low hiss, which Sammy reacted to automatically by taking a step back- he knew this voice. It meant one thing: Serena is not happy. "He came to check up on me because I was sick! You… you.. sicko!" No other word came out. I didn't want to call my brother a perv. It just didn't seem right. Sammy… he's Sammy! My innocent little brother who would never even think to think such a thing!

"Well, how am I supposed to know that!" He began to defend himself then his expression changed again, softer, more gentle- my Sammy. "You're sick? What… what is it?"

His expression was completely concerned with unhidden anguish.

My heart melted immediately. I knew what he was thinking.

After all these years, he would never forget. I would never forget.

It would always be a shadow we both carried with us, never leaving our thoughts.

"Nothing serious. Just a 24 hour flu or something." I assured him, "Not that." He immediately relaxed. Concern gone, but the sadness still tainted his features. He was remembering again.

Even though Sammy was barely twelve when mom died nine years ago, he still remembers it. Maybe even more vividly than I do. He remembers what she looked like when she came back from chemo treatment sessions, her anguish when she removed her left breast, her many fake smiles to hide all of her problems.

I only remember the fake smiles. I was too busy in college, too busy pretending to believe everything she told me. That she was "perfectly fine" and "getting better everyday" and most of all, one of her last lies, "That the cancer is going away. I promise, sweetie."

Maybe she believed it. I always told myself, but I doubt that. She wanted to protect us from what was happening but what she didn't realize was that by hiding the truth, she was hurting us more than anything else.

Her death, to us, was sudden. Everyone else probably realized what was happening but Lilly's own children were oblivious to her impending doom because she'd wanted it that way. She wanted her children's last memories of her to be happy, unconcerned, blissful ones.

And sometimes I think, maybe I should have been more observant. Maybe I should have realized that when she visited me on a weekly basis on campus, something was off. But how was I to know that my fierce, strong mother was succumbing to something more powerful than even she? I couldn't, I always comfort myself. I really couldn't. No.

But really, I'm only fooling myself.

I've been mother, father, sister, and friend to Sammy since that day. I tried my best to make him not feel like what we were technically after that day- orphans. No, I was and am his parents. He had me. I was lucky to be on a scholarship in college so I didn't feel too guilty for continuing my education, I just lived at home. Commuted a long way, but that was fine. As long as Sammy was okay. But the one thing I can never do for Sammy is completely dissuade his concerns because I could someday fall victim to the same illness that had killed mom. No matter how many times I told him that wouldn't happen, we both knew that I could never be certain. I could never promise to not get cancer. I could never promise to not leave him once more without a mother, father, sister, and best friend.

But if there is one thing Sammy is good at, it's faking it.

Just like mom.

He put on the happy, cheerful, and mischievous face- although the mischief I don't think is feigned- then walked up to Darien and extended his hand.

I was surprised that Darien's expression had changed. The suspicion and agitation were gone- replaced by a polite smile. He extended his hand.

They shook.

A very manly shake. It was odd, like they were testing the other's strength. Neither seemed to want to let go. More like Sammy didn't want to let go. Darien seemed to be politely dealing with his hand's mutilation. I laughed awkwardly, "Would you two like some privacy for a while?"

The question trailed off suggestively and they both dropped the other's hand. Like they'd just been burned.

I heard two distinct throats clearing- both very deep noises. I rolled my eyes.

Never question a man's masculinity. Or you'll be the one dealing with the aftereffects long after the comments pass. Aftereffects being: Deeper voices, grunting, spitting, etc. At least, that's what always happens with Sammy.

This time, they got over it pretty quickly and then Sammy asked what had happened and why I looked healthy if I had been sick. He gave Darien another glare, apparently not all of his suspicions were gone.

I rolled my eyes as Darien exaggerated last night's illnesses. He described a scene in which I'd rolled off the couch and Darien rushed in with a bag where I proceeded to displace an earlier meal.

"Now, you're just making up stuff!" I shouted and Darien gave me an earnest look.

"Seriously, it happened."

His expression was so open that I had to believe him, which caused me to blush and Sammy to make "eww" and "gross" comments.

And before I knew it, they were bonding. I mean it!

Sammy started telling Darien about a time a few years ago when I'd gotten food poisoning from a fancy restaurant I'd generously offered to pay for on his birthday.

"Sammy!" I shouted, but they both ignored me and continued on with their marathon of Embarrassing Stories of Serena.

I groaned.

Just my luck.