Baird and Cassandra arrived at Cassandra's apartment after the short flight to Portland and a short taxi ride to her building. They walked into the small apartment and found a large vase of flowers sitting on her kitchen table. Cassandra gasped, dropped her bag on the floor, and wandered over to them. She fished the card out from among the flowers and grinned.
"Who are they from?" Baird asked.
"Stone," Cassandra said. She waved the card a bit. "It says welcome home. That's so sweet…but how did he get in here to leave them on the table?"
Baird shot Cassandra a look that said she should know the answer to that. "I'll give you three guesses," Baird said.
"Ezekiel," Cassandra said with a slight roll of her eyes.
"Might want to get the locks changed…and doubled…when this is all over," Baird suggested.
Cassandra spent that first day back in Portland luxuriating in being home and sleeping off the fatigue from the plane trip. Baird stayed with her again that first day, and Stone took Baird's place the next morning. Cassandra woke up in the late morning and found Stone reading an art history book on her couch, his sock-covered feet propped up on the coffee table. He had been to her apartment before, but she still found it a little startling how natural he looked curled up in her living room, just a handful of feet away from the table that held the flowers he'd bought her.
"Good morning," she said with a smile before disappearing into the kitchen.
"Hey," he replied. He set the book down and followed her. "How are you feelin'?"
"Good," Cassandra answered. "I'm actually not sure I really need someone with me all the time anymore."
"Well, until you're sure, someone will be here," Stone promised her.
"You've been with me the most this past week; you must be bored or restless or…something," she said.
"I don't mind spending the day with you, Cassie," he said.
The smile he received in return was nothing short of dazzling. "Likewise," she said.
They spent the morning in silence, sharing space on the couch. Stone read his art history book while Cassandra flipped through the magazines that had piled up in her mailbox. When she saw what looked like a gift peeking out of Stone's bag, he said that he had almost forgotten, and that was from Colonel Baird. Cassandra grabbed the box and slid onto the floor with her back against the couch. She pulled a large hand mirror out of the box; the mirror had a post-it note on the back that held a promise to go get a bigger one for her wall when she was feeling up to shopping and redecorating. Cassandra flipped the mirror around to look at herself, and Stone watched with interest.
"What's the deal with the mirror?" he finally asked.
"I don't see Death anymore," Cassandra replied with a smile. She turned her head so the side with the shaved portion was most visible, and her smile deflated. With a groan, she said, "Though I'm not sure this looks much better."
"You're fine," Stone assured her.
"I mean, it's better without the metal staples in my head, but maybe, when I'm allowed…maybe I should dye my hair blonde," Cassandra said, thinking out loud. "Then maybe the missing part won't be as noticeable."
"Don't you dare," Stone grumbled, the words slipping from his lips before his brain could stop them. Cassandra looked up at him, surprised by his brusque opinion. "I mean, it's your choice, but the red suits you. I like it."
"I do, too," she sighed. She looked at herself for a few more minutes and whined, "I just look so weird! And not in an 'oh-my-god-I-can't-believe-I-really-had-brain-surgery' kind of way, in an 'oh-my-god-I-really-can't-pull-this-look-off' kind of way. Though I kind of can't believe I really had brain surgery. Maybe I should just shave it all off."
"You could; you probably have a cute head," Stone said simply. Growing up with sisters, he was no stranger to girls feeling insecure about their appearance. As any brother would, he'd grown accustomed to purposely making it worse by either cracking jokes or simply agreeing with the remarks. His lighthearted comment led to a long, guttural groan from Cassandra, and he chuckled, taking the mirror out of her hands. She looked at him as he set the mirror face down on the table and sincerely said, "Hey, you're beautiful, okay? Don't worry about that."
She prettily blushed at the compliment and looked away from him, awkwardly pulling a magazine back towards her.
Later, when the day was winding down, and the movie they'd been watching was reaching the end of its credits, Cassandra slowly stood from the couch and stretched. Stone kept an eye on her; she was moving and walking on her own now, sometimes with the assistance of walls and furniture, but she was still slow. She glanced down at him.
"I'm going to bed," she said. "Are you staying the night?"
"That was the plan," he confirmed.
"Okay, well, you can turn a light on if you need to to find the bed later; it probably won't wake me up," she said, heading for her bedroom.
"Oh, that's okay; I'll just stay out here," Stone said.
She looked confused. "Why would you do that? We slept in the same bed at the hotel."
"Yeah, but that was a hotel. This is your…" Stone started, using his fingers to point down the hallway towards Cassandra's bedroom.
Cassandra groaned and rolled her eyes. "Are we seriously going to have this conversation again? It's stupid to sleep on the couch when you don't have to," she insisted, waving her hands in the air as if that helped her make her point.
"Are you sure it's not…" he started. She cut him off again.
"It's only weird if you make it weird," she said.
"I was going to say are you sure it's not too much of an invasion of your privacy."
"Oh," she said. She thought about it for a moment and said, "No, I don't think so, but fine; stay out here; be uncomfortable; whatever."
She threw her hands into the air and, with a huff, turned around and headed down the hallway to bed; he joined her a few hours later.
The next day, at the Annex, Baird was sitting at her perfectly organized desk, jotting down notes from the case she and Flynn had worked the day before when Ezekiel came strolling into the Annex, shoving a book into a satchel draped across his chest. Baird put her pen down and threw her hands up in disbelief as Ezekiel appeared.
"Colonel Baird," Ezekiel said slowly, a flash of guilt in his tone. "I didn't expect to see you here."
"Uh, likewise," Baird replied. "Aren't you supposed to be with Cassandra right now?"
"About that," Ezekiel said. "Can we switch? I've got something I need to do."
Baird sighed and began standing from her desk as she spoke. She knew this was going to happen eventually. "Jones, listen, I know you say you bail as soon as things aren't fun anymore, and I know keeping a watchful eye on Cassandra probably isn't very fun for you, but you're part of a team here; we're a team, and part of being a member of a team is stepping up and helping each other out when the situation calls for it, and…"
She was cut off by Ezekiel's eager rebuttal. "Great," he said. "Then you understand! See you later, Colonel!"
"I meant that you need to help Cassandra, not that I need to help…" Baird argued, trailing off as Ezekiel disappeared through the back door. She wandered over to the globe to see where he'd set the coordinates. She spoke to herself when she said, "What the hell is he doing in Egypt?" With a shake of her head, she decided she didn't really want to know and gathered her things to head to Cassandra's.
She let herself in to Cassandra's apartment with the key Cassandra had given her. Baird knocked on the door and called her name as she entered so as not to scare her. Cassandra appeared from the hallway towards her bedroom dressed in pajamas.
"What are you doing here?" Cassandra asked.
"Ezekiel…" Baird started. She sighed and said, "I didn't ask. Stone says you're upset about your hair."
"Oh, I…" she stuttered. "It's not really a big deal here at home, but if I want to go out soon…I just look weird. It's a superficial girl thing."
Baird walked over to Cassandra's table and pulled out a chair. "Sit," she said. Cassandra took a seat, and Baird disappeared into the bathroom to get a hair brush. When she returned, she said, "Tell me if anything I do hurts, okay?"
"Oh, you'll know," Cassandra promised. "I hit the incision site when I was brushing my hair this morning. I've never seen Stone move so quickly." Baird grinned and started brushing Cassandra's hair. Cassandra glanced up at her. "What are you doing?"
"We're just going to try to make it a little less noticeable," Baird said. After a few moments of silence, she asked, "So, um…have you told your parents about the surgery?"
Cassandra noticeably stiffened. "No," she said.
"Don't you think they should know?" Baird asked.
"Why?" Cassandra asked with a scoff, her defenses already going up.
"Oh, I don't know, because you're their daughter," Baird said. "And they should probably know that you don't have a brain tumor anymore."
"If they couldn't handle the diagnosis, I don't see why they should get to enjoy the celebration," Cassandra said simply. Eager to change the subject, she asked, "Seriously, what are you doing?"
Baird gave her the hand mirror she had pulled from the bathroom. "It's not perfect, but it's something," she said.
Baird had shifted the part in Cassandra's hair, pulling some of the hair from the untouched side of her head over to cover the side where the surgery had taken place. Cassandra smiled and turned her head from side to side, examining herself in the mirror.
"I like the boys," Cassandra said. "But when I mentioned my hair to Stone, he told me I'd probably have a cute head if I were completely bald."
Baird humorously rolled her eyes and sat down in the chair next to Cassandra. "That's such a boy thing to say," she agreed.
Cassandra laughed and added, "So sometimes it's nice to have another girl around, even a super tough one like you, Colonel."
Baird smiled at the compliment and genuinely said, "Cassandra, I think you're braver than I'll ever be."
The sentiment hung in the air between the two women until a knock at the door interrupted their moment. Baird shot Cassandra a quizzical look, and Cassandra shrugged, indicating that she had no idea who that might be. Baird made her way to the door and glanced through the peephole. With a grin, she opened the door.
"Hello, Librarian," Baird said, greeting Flynn, who stood in Cassandra's doorway with a bag full of groceries in his hand.
"Hello, Guardian," Flynn replied. He glanced inside the apartment briefly before asking, "Is the kid around?"
"The kid is right here," Cassandra said, holding up a finger and waving from her place at the table.
"Oh," Flynn said. "Cover your eyes."
Cassandra played along, peeking through her fingers as Flynn and Baird shared a kiss in her doorway. Flynn stepped inside, and Baird shut the door behind him.
"What are you doing here?" Cassandra asked, standing. He set the bags down on her table and enveloped her in a hug.
"I'm here to make you dinner," Flynn said.
"Really?" Cassandra asked with excitement.
"Stone doesn't strike me as much of a cook, and I've seen the Guardian's fridge, so I think you're long overdue for a decent meal, wouldn't you say?" Flynn asked. Cassandra nodded her approval. Flynn gestured to the vase of flowers on the kitchen table and said, "Those flowers are lovely."
The pretty blush returned to Cassandra's face as she smiled. "They are, aren't they?"
Cassandra sat back down at the table, gently fingering one of the flowers, and Flynn turned to Baird with a curious expression, silently asking who the flowers were from. Baird mouthed Stone's name, and Flynn's eyes widened slightly as he silently gestured to ask if something was going on between Stone and Cassandra. Baird shrugged and then made a face to indicate that she, too, had considered that possibility. Flynn pondered the idea for a moment before nodding his endorsement, and Baird stifled a chuckle, carrying the groceries to the kitchen. Flynn followed her into the kitchen and began unpacking the bags.
"I hope I didn't interrupt your girls' night," Flynn said.
"Oh, no, we were just talking about why Cassandra should tell her parents about the surgery," Baird said. It was a sneaky move, but she felt the situation called for backup. Cassandra, fully aware of what Baird was doing, groaned and buried her head into her hands on the table top.
"They don't know?" Flynn asked in surprise.
"No," Cassandra said.
"Ignoring the part of me that is selfishly glad I wasn't the only one kept in the dark," Flynn started, shooting Baird an accusatory look, "Don't you think they should be apprised of the fact that the status quo is no longer…quo?"
"Not yet," Cassandra said simply.
"Now that you mention it, I had pondered why they weren't here…" Flynn said, more to himself than to the room.
"That's what we're trying to avoid," Cassandra said with a laugh. "Though I doubt they'd care enough to come anyway."
"When's the last time you saw them?" Baird asked.
"It's been years," Cassandra admitted. "They call on my birthday, mostly, I think, to find out if I'm still having them, and I call on special occasions, mostly out of obligation. Why is this such a big deal?"
"I mean, I don't have kids, but I think if I did, and I was told that I was likely to outlive her, I'd like to be informed if that changed," Baird said.
"Yes, I agree," Flynn said.
"If you guys had kids, you'd do everything you could to make sure that changed," Cassandra muttered. "It'd be a completely different situation."
"Nobody gets anywhere focusing on the past," Flynn said. "Maybe they deserve another chance?"
"Yeah, Cassandra, they're your family," Baird added.
"No, they're not! You are," Cassandra cried. She'd finally had enough. She took a deep breath and tried to explain. "Maybe they are by blood, but that's it. You guys are…when we found out about the brain grape, they…" She sighed, words failing her.
"You don't have to tell us if you don't want to," Baird offered softly, suddenly feeling a little guilty for pushing the topic.
"No, it's not that," Cassandra said. "I just don't really know where to start. My parents are the kind of stereotypical uppity, high society people who spend all their time worrying about what others will think of them and probably only had a child because it was expected, and I, you know, was supposed to be everything. I was supposed to be extraordinary, but I derailed all of that because I had a brain tumor."
"Well, that wasn't your fault," Flynn said.
"And they know that," Cassandra said. "But when we found out, I was a child who'd been handed a death sentence. I needed my parents, but all they saw when they looked at me was ruined potential and dashed dreams, mostly theirs, so they…they stopped looking at me," Cassandra said.
"What do you mean they stopped looking at you?" Baird asked, taking a seat next to Cassandra again.
"My mother cried over the debutante ball she'd have to back out of because why present me to society if I wasn't really going to be a part of it? She agonized over what to tell her friends, and my father went out and bought a boat with my college money because he'd always wanted one, and well, I wouldn't be needing that money anymore, even though the doctor explicitly told him the five-year survival rate for someone diagnosed at my age was somewhere around 87 percent, so I probably wasn't going anywhere anytime soon," Cassandra explained. Baird and Flynn remained quiet, their hearts filling with sympathy and sadness as she spoke. "I know everyone handles grief differently, but they just weren't there for me. They didn't do anything, so the diagnosis was more than just a death sentence. It was when I realized my parents loved the idea of me more than they actually loved me."
"Cassandra," Flynn said softly, moving over to the table. "I'm sure that's not true."
"That was a long time ago," Baird offered.
"No, you don't understand," Cassandra said. "They didn't do anything. They just moved on with their lives, almost as if I were already gone, and I'm just so mad, now more than ever, that they're my parents, and that's how they reacted, while a bunch a people I met less than a year ago did a whole lot of stupid things to make a solution happen, so every time I think about telling them, I think about everything you and Stone and Ezekiel, and, god, even the Library have done to help me, and I just get so mad at them, and until I'm not mad about that anymore, I'm not going to be able to tell them."
"Cassandra, I'm sorry I pushed it," Baird said.
"No, you're right. They should know," Cassandra said. "I know that I should be the bigger person and tell them that their daughter is not going to die anymore, but I can't. I can help save the world, and I can stare Death in the face, but I just can't do that."
Cassandra let out a defeated sigh and slumped in her chair. Baird and Flynn shared a concerned look over Cassandra's head, and Flynn walked around her chair. He pulled up a chair of his own and sat down in front of her. Cassandra avoided his gaze.
"Look at me," Flynn whispered. Cassandra did, embarrassed by how much of her personal baggage she had just let slip. "You are extraordinary. You don't know it yet because you got dealt a difficult hand before you were old enough to know who you are, but I see it. Eve sees it, and the Library sees it. The Library wouldn't have chosen you twice if you weren't extraordinary."
"Well, there is Jones…" Baird countered.
"Shush," Flynn commanded, shutting his eyes. "We're having a moment here."
"Okay, sorry," Baird said, causing Cassandra to chuckle.
"Now," Flynn said, turning back to Cassandra. With a teasing tone, he said, "There's a chocolate cake in that bag over there. I was going to make you wait until you'd eaten your vegetables, but what do you say we start with that…just this once?" He winked at her, and she nodded.
A few days later, Stone arrived at Cassandra's apartment to relieve Ezekiel, who had spent the day with her. He knocked on the door gently; he had her key, but the gentleman in him didn't like to barge in without notice. After a few moments, he knocked again, increasing his force against the door. Within seconds, his phone buzzed.
'Use the key, doofus. That's why I gave it to you,' read the text from Cassandra. Stone chuckled and entered the apartment. He found her in her bedroom, the room dark save for the small lamp by her bed. She was curled up on the mattress in onesie pajamas with a cat face and soft, pointy ears on the hood that was pulled up around her head. He couldn't help himself and chuckled when he saw her.
"What?" she mumbled, pausing the television show she was watching.
"You look ridiculous, darlin'," he laughed.
"It has a tail, too," she said in a weakened voice, pulling the tail up so he could see. That only made Stone laugh harder.
"That can't be comfortable," he said.
"Oh, how wrong you are…" Cassandra sighed, sinking deeper into her pillow.
"Did I wake you up?" he asked.
"No," she said. "Just didn't feel like getting up. I'm not feeling very good today."
Stone looked around. "Where's Ezekiel?"
"Oh, he's gone," Cassandra said with a wave of her hand. "He's been gone for hours."
"What do you mean?" Stone asked, his blood beginning to boil. "Did he know you weren't feelin' good?"
"Yeah, but he left when Colonel Baird called," Cassandra said. "It's okay."
"Baird didn't call him," Stone said.
"What? No, he said Colonel Baird called and said you guys needed help, and you'd meet him at the Back Door," Cassandra explained.
"I was with Baird all day, Cass," Stone said. "Nobody called him."
"Oh," Cassandra said, her face falling when she realized Ezekiel had lied to get away.
"I'm gonna kill 'em," Stone said upon seeing the hurt look on Cassandra's face.
"Okay, but can you maybe kill him later?" she asked.
Her eyes were pleading with him not to leave her alone again just yet, so he set his car keys down on her dresser and agreed, "Yeah."
Planning to spend the night, he swapped his jeans for sweatpants and returned to her bedroom, stretching out on the mattress next to Cassandra. His protective nature, however, got the better of him, and as soon as he was sure she would be asleep for a few hours, he slipped back out of bed and headed back to the Annex.
As he walked down the hallway, he could hear Ezekiel talking in the main room. Stone rounded the corner, and, without even bothering to see who else was around, he curled his fingers into Ezekiel's shirt, dragged the younger man off his stool, and slammed him into the nearest wall. The nearest wall happened to be a book shelf, which rattled upon impact, a few books falling to the floor.
"What the hell, Stone?" Baird exclaimed.
"Jones here told Cassandra that he had to leave because you called for help on a case today, and I'm pretty damn positive you did nothin' of the sort, so I want to know why the hell Jones lied to Cassandra and left her alone all day when she's not feelin' very well," Stone seethed, his eyes never leaving Ezekiel.
"And what do you think you're doing right now, mate?" Ezekiel asked. "Or is Cassandra here, too?"
"She's asleep, moron. Now start talkin'," Stone replied.
"Hold on," Baird commanded. She took a breath, her brain still processing what was happening. "Stone, is Cassandra alright?"
"Yeah, it's just an off day. She's fine," Stone said. He finally glanced back and found Flynn and Jenkins in the room as well. He felt Ezekiel slipping and pressed him back into the hard surface behind his back. "No thanks to him."
"Okay, good. Put Jones down," Baird ordered. When Stone made no motion towards following Baird's orders, she repeated, her voice a little more stern, "Now, Stone."
With a grunt, Stone released Ezekiel and took a step back. Ezekiel let out a breath he didn't realize he was holding and straightened his shirt.
"Tell them," Flynn said, causing both Stone and Baird's heads to immediately snap towards him, Stone's in anger, Baird's in surprise.
"I've been looking for something," Ezekiel revealed. "Flynn's been helping me here and there; don't get mad at him."
"You're searching for an artifact, Mr. Jones?" Jenkins asked.
"The Eye of Horus," Ezekiel said. Jenkins immediately nodded in understanding.
"What?" Baird asked off Jenkins's reaction. "What is it?"
"The Eye of Horus is an ancient Egyptian symbol made up of seven different hieroglyphs," Flynn said. "Sailors would paint it on the side of their vessels before a long journey; pendants would be crafted for pharaohs and royalty. The symbol's quite common…even today. The artifact Ezekiel is looking for is the original amulet."
"And lookin' for a necklace is more important than taking care of Cassandra?" Stone asked accusingly.
"It's for Cassandra, you idiot," Ezekiel replied.
"I'm sorry," Baird said. "I'm still missing something. Who is Horus, and what is so special about his eye?"
"He's a deity in ancient Egyptian religion," Stone said. "The Eye is just his symbol."
"A symbol of protection and good health," Ezekiel explained. "And the original amulet, which is what I'm after, is believed to be filled with magical properties that can bestow those gifts onto the wearer of the necklace."
"Wait, there's something out there that would give Cassandra protected good health?" Baird asked. "Why didn't we look for this before we had a surgeon cut into her skull?"
"Because it wouldn't have worked then," Flynn said.
"The Eye of Horus is, first and foremost, a protection amulet," Jenkins explained. "Good health will not simply materialize by placing it around someone's neck. It can't remove symptoms manifesting from an existing disease, but it can stop an affliction from originating by prolonging the good health of the wearer."
"So what you're saying is she has to already be in good health for the amulet's magic to have any sort of effect on her?" Stone asked.
"Precisely, Mr. Stone," Jenkins confirmed. "Miss Cillian would have needed to be cured first, no matter when or if you find this amulet."
"Which is why Ezekiel feels such a sense of urgency towards finding the amulet," Flynn explained. "We don't know what our window of opportunity might be. Oligodendrogliomas have a cruel tendency to come back."
"And I didn't know that," Ezekiel said. "We were sitting in that hospital room, and it suddenly felt like we were talking to Dr. Shepherd about her next brain surgery before we'd even taken her home from this one, and, I mean, she's doing great, but...the thought of her having to do this again…"
"Yeah, I can't stand that, either," Stone admitted.
"And this amulet will keep that from happening?" Baird asked.
"As long as there are no abnormal cells in her brain when she puts the amulet on, yes," Flynn said. "According to how Ezekiel and I have interpreted the research, we believe that it should."
"And the synesthesia?" Baird asked.
"Is more of a phenomenon than a disease," Flynn said. "Shouldn't affect or be affected by what we're talking about."
"Well, let's find it!" Baird said.
"You should all be aware of one thing before you throw yourselves too far into this," Jenkins said. "The Eye of Horus has been lost for centuries. It may not be recoverable."
At this, Ezekiel's mouth curved into a knowing, mischievous grin. He quickly scanned the room and said, "I think I've almost got it."