Chapter 85

Important Questions

Richard wasn't familiar with the emotions spiralling through his mind. He had never even wanted to seek out 'love'. He hadn't thought about it, really. All his recent life, it had been one thought that filled his mind. Work. Work. Work. He enjoyed his work, he loved his work. It made him feel as he had a purpose in life. He needed some kind of purpose after his mother died when he was sixteen. And something as difficult as being a detective gave him the right amount of challenge to get his mind off of his mother.

Once, there was a young woman he had met in college. She was red-haired, freckles dotting her cheeks, a smile to conquer all smiles. Richard tried to talk to her, but he was a stuttering mess. He completely failed and the woman disappeared from his life, because he had lacked the confidence to try again. He wanted to concentrate on his classes, and then his training, and finally his work because it preoccupied him. There was no time for life outside of it. And he didn't want it. No girls, no nothing.

But Lisa… She was sudden, she came from out of nowhere. Going to that school, Richard was expecting many things, but wasn't expecting to meet Lisa. The first time he saw her, Richard knew that he didn't want to make the mistake that he had with the young woman in college. So he kept his cool, and he tried to build up their relationship. And it worked, to a degree. But they had never gotten far enough to tell each other how they truly felt. And that was the key thing that was hurting Richard.

Regret.

He regretted not telling Lisa firmly and directly, 'I love you', he regretted shouting at her when she was in the fugue over Joshua and Miles, he regretted so many things and his mind was filled with 'what if's?' What if he met Lisa normally? What if she wasn't broken by the former list? And that's what it came down to. The list. And from the list, Death. And it was Death that Richard was furious at. Death had haunted Lisa for a long time. He had taken Isaac away from her. He had forced her to find out who was imitating him. She was fragile but Death didn't care. And after all of that, Death let her die.

No… he didn't let her die. He caused her to die.

But all these emotions were inside of his mind, fighting for control. Richard's rational mind told him he was in shock, that he ought to seek out help, but he couldn't do it. He just kept on walking, a dazed zombie trying to put his thoughts back together.

Lisa… dead. A woman who had practically everything taken away from her. A woman who was constantly emotionally distraught. A woman who thought it was over, like everyone else did, and then she was killed.

And then Richard's anger turned from Death to Gregory Fisk. Fisk, who had brought him back from death. Fisk, who had explained his 'theory', but who also assured Richard that it was over. "Gerald Myers is dead. The imitator has been killed. There is no more goal for Death now. There will be no more lists. There will be no more innocents gone." Richard was furious that Fisk had lied. Once again, his rational mind told him that Fisk didn't know, but Richard wanted something… needed something to throw all his anger against.

And then, and inkling of a thought in Richard's mind. Something that grew strong enough that it pushed all other thoughts – his anger and his sadness and his regret and his rage – pushed them all to the side. Richard stopped aimlessly walking, a simple thought playing on his lips. A question. And it's answer was something Richard had to know. His need to know the answer was so strong, that it brought him out of his state. It brought him back to reality. And standing in the street, wet and sodden from the rain, Richard muttered the thought to himself.

Who did she bring back? Who did she make the trade with?

Richard calmed down. She was gone. It was painful, but it was true. But she must have brought someone back, right? Miles had brought Dorothy back. Fisk had brought Richard himself back. So who would Lisa bring back?

And Richard felt relieved. Because he knew that whoever it was would have the answers to this whole scenario. Lisa would have brought back somebody who knew everything there was to know about Death, how to beat it. Because she was on the list, and she knew Myers' death didn't solve anything. She knew Death wanted the survivors gone. So she would have brought somebody else back, she must have.

Then Richard gasped. A thought coming to his mind, a thought so shocking that it struck him like a punch would. But a thought that made sense. She would bring him back, because Death had to keep his word on the trade, and he hadn't been taken out by Death, but he was murdered. And he would know how to.

Richard put a hand on his head, these new and shocking thoughts getting rid of the last fragments of his shocked state.

Where would he be now? Where can we find him? Because he sure as all hell isn't going to look for us.

Grace had let go of Nick and had happily gone ahead of Derrick as well, almost skipping along. Both Derrick and Nick had to increase their pace so Grace wasn't lost. This meant that while Grace was ahead, Derrick and Nick were shoulder to shoulder, and Nick was well aware of the tension.

"So…" Nick tried to start conversation but had no clue what to say.

"So?" Derrick glanced quickly to Nick, his eyes narrowed. "If you got something to say, say it." It was clear Derrick wasn't happy that Nick was coming along, but he wasn't willing to say no to Grace after saying yes first of all.

"…You left pretty quick after Grace said what she would name the babies…" Nick started before wincing internally. That's not a good conversation topic!

"Yeah." Derrick simply said.

"…Why?" Nick ventured. "Is it something about her… having children?"

"No." Derrick ended it at that. Nick was ready to say something again when Derrick suddenly pointed to Grace. "You look at her. What do you see?"

Nick blinked, surprised by the question. He looked at Grace's back and couldn't help but notice the way the short shorts tucked slightly with the curve of her rear. Sure, her brother wants to hear that… "Uh… I'm not sure."

Derrick snorted and shook his head. "Uh-huh. I see a girl who looks happy. A girl who looks like nothing has ever happened in her life. That her parents didn't die. That she wasn't mute for a year. I see a perfectly normal girl."

"But that's a good thing, right?" Nick asked, curiosity taking over the nervousness he felt at talking to Derrick.

Ignoring the question, Derrick continued, "but you see the cracks. Little things, tiny little things that show she hasn't got over it. Not yet. I don't think she even realises that she's letting off these tiny hints, but they are like alarm bells to me. It tells me, that after all of this time, Gracie hasn't let go."

"What sort of alarm bells are going off?" Nick asked.

"Serena. Mark." Derrick said.

"The names she wanted to name her children?"

"Yeah. Serena was our mother. Mark was our father." Derrick crossed his arms, still watching Grace, never letting her stray from his sight. "Little things, Nick. Little things…"

As Derrick trailed off, Nick couldn't help but notice this was the first time Derrick had actually referenced him by name. And he couldn't help but start liking Derrick. He was simply protective. Grace was right. "What about you?"

"Me?" Derrick raised an eyebrow.

"How did you deal with the deaths of your parents?" Nick asked carefully. Derrick stiffened, but he was also surprised. He wasn't expecting the question and he was caught off guard.

"I dealt with it." He finally answered, as if figuring out the question wasn't some kind of trap. Nick was genuinely asking how he had dealt with it. "I couldn't let myself mourn, because otherwise Gracie would have had no-one. I had to remain strong for her." Derrick looked to the floor a moment, his thoughts heading back to one of many nights just after their parents had died.

Derrick sat at the wall, arms wrapped around his knees. Under his messy fringe, dark eyes looked out at his sister, breathing lightly on the bed, seeming almost peaceful. With no more eyes looking at him, Derrick let out a small choke he had been holding in. He grit his teeth, spasms wracking his body, tears sliding down his cheeks. It took almost half an hour before Derrick got control again, his fists clenching. He looked back up, watching Grace sleep, making sure she wouldn't have any nightmares, and if she did, waiting to comfort her. Make her safe.

Derrick looked back up, a faint smile playing on his lips. The smile made him look much younger and handsome, no anger or suspicion etched into his face. "Yeah. I dealt with it." He repeated, his face turning back to its usual. "And I swear to God, if you keep staring at my sister's ass, I'll break your jaw."

A/N: Thanks to PrincezzShell101 for your review. A shorter chapter today, in preparation for next time, which'll be a long one. Why? Well, that'd be telling now, wouldn't it?

'Till next time!