Hidden and Silent
Chapter One
"You're going to be a remarkable person."
When Demetrius Desmond was three years old, a man said these words to him and promised him a life of fulfillment and the highest honour of serving their country. It would be a hard road, it would take a lot of work and patience, but it would be worth it.
And Demetrius believed him. Because his father did.
It was strange that day. When Donovan told Demetrius they were going out. Donovan never had paid much attention to his son, and the sudden trip with his father pumped him full with so much dopamine he didn't think to question the oddity of it. He was simply happy to do anything with his father. Even if he was quiet most the trip and didn't spare him more than a glance every now and then.
But they left the driver behind, so it must've been important.
It wasn't until years later that Demetrius understood why his mother broke down crying at breakfast that morning.
It was the longest drive Demetrius had ever been on. He remembered often complaining, where they were going, when they would get there, that he needed to use the washroom. If they could stop for snacks.
Donovan ignored most of it.
Then the populated areas became less and less. The trees grew thicker and ticker. The roads were reduced to dirt and pebbles.
Demetrius loved the back roads they turned on to. The leafy trees overshadowed the route in beautiful shades that could be a painting, and the lush, green colours were easy on they eyes. Weeds and grass were creeping on the edges of the road and moss was plentiful at the base of nearly every tree.
He was confused when it ended and the car kept on going.
They drove into the woods and Demetrius amusedly wondered where his father was taking him.
And then the tunnel.
The ground opened up and Demetrius watched in wonder. A secret underground tunnel was the coolest thing ever and he asked if his father was a super, secret spy or something.
He said no.
It was dark in the tunnel. Demetrius didn't mind the dark, he'd never been afraid of it. It simply existed and the world was the same in the daylight. What was there to be afraid of? Though he didn't think he'd like to be stuck down here for too long where he couldn't see. He imagined it as a cave and thought he could be a caveman if there was food down here. He wondered if his mother would visit and cook it for him. She could be a cavemom.
They reached the end and a large door opened. It was really bright inside and a he was a little disappointed by how clinical it was. The halls were as well and very identical. Somehow they didn't get lost and he chalked up his father's sense of direction to being a grown-up
He brought him to a door and knocked on it. A man with pink hair and deep purple eyes opened it. He didn't wear the same clothes as the other people they passed, and the man smiled warmly at him. His father called him the director and Demetrius never did learn his name.
He was led into an office filled with binders and a desk covered in papers. The man had him sit down and it was here that everything changed.
The adults explained his purpose here and Demetrius learned what being a father was.
He had never really known before. In his young mind, he hadn't thought to question it. All he knew was that his father existed and he sometimes saw him. His mother cared for him and his father provided. That's the way it was.
But no. That was not a definition of a father. A father was someone who pushed you further with expectations and sacrificed familial bonds for a greater purpose. A family wasn't held together by love or affection. It wasn't held together by loyalty or even blood. It was held together by lofty goals, expectations, and how to use your family to achieve it. It was held together by cold, unfeeling strings and his father held them in his hand.
And Demetrius played his part.
For six years he was in that lab. He went through countless tests and experiments and there were too many nights he thought he might die. For six years he didn't know if he should hate his father for this, or find it normal. Did other fathers subject their children to this, to pain and imprisonment, for their own gain? Was that just how it was supposed to be?
He missed his mother often.
And then it happened. One day he was a telepath and his days were different. Some experiments were altered and he was put through extensive mental training for a year. Enough time to have considerable control. Enough development that his father came for him as if it was, indeed, all normal.
Demetrius didn't recognize him at first. After so long, Donovan was only vaguely familiar, and his off-putting demeanour, even more so. He came to take him home like nothing happened.
Then things really changed.
His mother cried.
He wasn't sure why the image of his mother came to him then. Her belly, swollen with his new brother, when he saw her. Damian was born and Demetrius could have held him forever. A sneaking wonder if there was more to family if he could feel the way he felt.
Or maybe he'd just been too deprived of human contact.
Demetrius huffed and regretted driving so fast as he clung to the door handle, slightly off balance in the middle of the woods. He was a short trip from the lab, it was so unnervingly close, and yet it couldn't break his focus on Damian, the centre of his vision.
Two pairs of headlights illuminated the area and Damian's small face showed well enough against the surrounding darkness.
Demetrius thought he might cry or laugh, he wasn't sure. There was no part of him that clearly told him what he was feeling.
Damian watched him, bewildered, and his thoughts flung wildly about, undecided on which to settle on first. There were too many.
"Ha." A hand crept up to Demetrius' eyes and his quiet, broken laugh cut through the rumble of engines as he stepped away from the damaged car.
"De. . . wha. . . " Damian failed to speak.
The mud squelched at Demetrius' feet and his knees dropped as he pulled Damian into a hug. He laughed bitterly. Relieved. Angrily. All of them?
He wanted to kill him. He hated him so much. He feared him so much. Donovan betrayed him and he hated him so much. Did he think it was fine? Because Demetrius couldn't do anything about it? Did he have no sense of duty to his son?
No.
Of course not.
When did he ever? He should have expected this.
Demetrius couldn't remember the last time he hugged Damian. He couldn't remember the last time it had felt like they were actually brothers. He was so small in his arms, and yet had grown so much without him.
Of course it was on purpose. This was his own fault. But he missed him. He shouldn't be hugging him like this. He shouldn't be letting himself feel like this. What was he doing? This was a bad idea.
No. It was fine. What was the point of it anymore? He had failed.
"Demetrius?" Damian choked and his big brother realized how tightly he was holding him. Like Damian was the last piece of sanity he had left. The last bit of something normal and positive.
Maybe he was.
Demetrius didn't let go. He didn't want to. He was just glad Damian was safe. He didn't appear hurt and it was all Demetrius could have asked for. He'd imagined the worst when he'd heard Damian was at the lab, and Donovan was infuriatingly calm about it. Thoughtful.
He knew then what would happen and he wasn't going to let it. Not like him. Damian was never supposed to know about any of this. He was supposed to stay away and be the one Desmond who escaped. The rest of them were screwed up and Damian just couldn't be allowed to be like them.
Demetrius buried his face in Damian's small shoulder and laughed a little harder.
What a mess.
What did he do now?
"Demetrius?" Damian was crying and his voice was hoarse.
Demetrius was scaring him.
He made his laughter fade to quiet and nothing was said for a long moment. He loosened his grip and drew back, planting his hands on Damian's shoulders, and sighed wearily.
". . .Hey. . ." He greeted shakily, perhaps belatedly, and Damian blinked. His brother moved his jaw, at a loss for words, and blinked a couple more times.
". . . What. . . .?" He responded and Demetrius wasn't surprised. They barely spoke to each other and had very little contact. Demetrius was very aware that Damian believed he thought nothing of him. Nothing good, nothing bad, just nothing.
That was also on purpose.
So why would Demetrius come here and hug him? Why was he here at all? How did he know where Damian was? Did he come to get him? And if so, why? Did father send him? What was he doing here? What was going on?
These thoughts and more went on in Damian's head and Demetrius dragged a hand over his face and sat back on his heels. "I came to get you." He said and Damian's face contorted into even more confused. "Are you okay?" Demetrius took Damian's face and turned his head from side to side.
Damian pulled the hands away and stared at him, bewildered. "Wha—what do you mea—what are you doing here? I mea—how—why did you—"
"Yeah. . ." Demetrius sighed. This is about what he expected. "I'll explain later."
Damian looked down at the hands he still held, and Demetrius was needled with some indeterminate ache as his little brother considered the strange concern Demetrius was uncharacteristically showing him.
"But—"
"We should go." Demetrius interrupted. He didn't want to talk about it now. They should get as far from this place as they could first.
"I don't think that thing is safe to drive." A man's voice reminded Demetrius there were other people here. He was aware of their presence earlier, and when he determined they weren't a threat to him or Damian, they melted into obscurity. They were reduced to irrelevant fuzziness outside of his tunnel vision. He'd passed over their minds like a rushed shopper taking only a second to glimpse at the products to see if it's what they were looking for or not.
Demetrius paid attention to them now and his sight caught on the little girl watching him and he startled. He knew her.
It couldn't have been too long ago. Maybe a year or so that he met her at the lab. He was usually treated here, but occasionally he went to the secondary location.
The director introduced her in passing as Subject 007. Another esper. It was the first he had met. But what hit him harder was that she was related to the director. It was too obvious. Though she looked like she wanted to be there about as much as Demetrius did.
He never saw her again.
Demetrius stood and it didn't occur to him that he was ignoring the man's comment. ". . . Hey, kid. . ." He greeted her and her only response was her returned stare. She was as surprised to see him as he, her. What was she doing here with these people? Come to think of it, what was Damian doing with them? Who were they? He wondered and took a better look at them. They wore agent's uniforms, but they weren't agents. They had come from battle from the state of them, and they had rescued the kids. These were 007's parents.
Her parents? That didn't make sense. How did this happen? Who were they that they were able to pull this off? Damian's thoughts told him they were the Forgers, but he was kind of out of it, and that's all Demetrius got.
In hindsight, Demetrius should have questioned how Damian got out of the lab in the first place.
"You know her?" The man holding her said and Demetrius paused, as he often did before answering, to look into his mind.
It was fast, calculating a million things at once, and it was clear that he wasn't an ordinary person. Mr. Forger wondered why Demetrius was here. How he knew of this place. If he was a threat at all. If he should keep Anya away from him as well. What did he know about Anya? That she was an esper?
'Wait, what?' Demetrius was surprised. The man knew Anya was a telepath? Very few outsiders knew of them. Though if he was her father, if he'd rescued her, he supposed it made sense.
It made his heart jump thinking about it. Did Damian know? No. It didn't seem so.
"Kind—" He cut himself off as his and Anya's heads whipped towards the crude path as if on cue. Like a pair of deer perking at someone's presence and Demetrius cringed at such an obvious indicator of his abilities.
Demetrius listened intently, but the people were still too far away. "We have to go." Demetrius said again and reached for Damian's hand.
"Wait. Come with us. You can't drive that." Mrs. Forger indicated to Donovan's stolen car and her gentle disposition didn't match the blood and gore she wore, suggesting someone much more violent.
Demetrius made a hasty (possibly stupid) decision to trust them for the moment and nodded.
"Into the woods. Let's go. We have a car further up and we don't want to be seen." Mr. Forger beckoned the boys to follow and they made for the cover of leafage.
This was insane, Demetrius thought. What was happening? Were these outsiders a good or bad thing?
"Oh." Mrs. Forger paused and made to turn back. "Keep going. I'm right behind you."
Demetrius held Damian's hand in the dark, paranoid he'd lose him in the woods, and followed after the quiet steps of Anya's father.
'Crrrink!'
The group stopped and looked back at Mrs. Forger. She gripped a metallic rectangle in her hand and fished into the backseat of the Forger's stolen vehicle. She returned to them with clothes in her arms. "Here." She handed a license plate to Demetrius in passing as if he'd forgotten to grab it himself.
"Uh. . . .thanks. . . " Demetrius barely saw her dim form under the shadowed trees as she strode to Mr. Forger's side and Demetrius had a lot of questions.
Unfortunately, they'd have to wait. There was too much going on. He could feel that the Forgers were here to help and that's all that mattered at the moment.
He seriously hoped.
007. . .Anya. . .seemed to trust them, too. There had to be a reason for that. He wouldn't be going along like this otherwise. He didn't really know her, but there was something to be said about another telepath. . no, not even. Another subject that trusted someone.
'Still. . . did she rip this off with her bare hands. . . .?' Demetrius thought and wondered where 00—Anya found these people.
Mr. Forger led them further through the woods, and Demetrius could only follow by the sound of his steps which were difficult to hear. His brother held to him tight and he was shivering. The freshly rained, freezing forest in the middle of the night was crisp when the adrenaline had worn off, and Demetrius lamented his lack of layers.
He had left in kind of a rush.
The group trudged through slowly and cautiously, feeling for trees that might be in front of them, and Demetrius didn't need to signal the incoming vehicles. The engines rumbled, the wheels squelched, and lights shone on the "road" that they kept a healthy distance from.
Everyone ducked until they passed and Demetrius heard "The SSS" strongly in the Forger's heads.
Another conversation for later.
They hurried on and Demetrius' ears were numb by the time they finally reached the road. The Forgers uncovered their car hidden off to the side in the woods and Demetrius got in after Damian. The Forgers took turns changing in the veil of the forest before they set off.
The doors closed, the engine started, and they were pulling out of their hiding spot. Retrieving Damian was surprisingly easy and Demetrius still couldn't relax now that he was actually leaving with him.
Leaving.
He had Damian and they were leaving.
Demetrius shuddered and leaned over his knees.
Damian was okay and they were leaving.
Demetrius wasn't sure it would happen. He'd half-expected to walk in and never come out again. He'd expected a lot of resistance, he hadn't even had a plan. He'd acted on impulse, stealing his father's car, racing down the highways. He was ashamed to admit he'd almost turned back a couple times. He'd never gone to the lab of his own accord before and he never would have if Damian hadn't been kidnapped.
"Demetrius?" Damian was dreadfully quiet and his voice was haunted with what he did, and yet did not want to know.
"Mm?" Demetrius hummed through his hands that held his face, feeling drained from nerves that had been shaken too violently and too much for one day.
He knew it had to come and wanted nothing more than to leave it unaddressed.
"What. . .how are you. . .here. . .?" Damian whispered and he had already figured it out. Nothing else made sense. Demetrius was a subject and Damian was asking for confirmation at this point.
Demetrius hated that the Forgers were here for this and his hands flopped over his knees. He sighed heavily from his nose and his gaze answered for him. Damian turned back to his lap.
"Then. . .father. . .he. . ."
"Yeah. . ."
Damian sniffled and cried. "Was he. . .was he going to. . ."
Demetrius couldn't help but sigh again and rubbed his eyes. "Yeah. . ."
Donovan had planned to leave him there.
Just like Demetrius.
"But—" Damian stared at his hands, unable to come to terms. He'd respected his father so much, how could he do something like this?
Demetrius had learned long ago what kind of man their father was and none of this surprised him. Damian had more attachments and Demetrius regretted how he'd handled things growing up. He should have disillusioned his little brother and made him see who their father really was. Made him realize that their father didn't care so Damian could move on.
Instead he'd left him alone. Let him dream, let him believe there was hope he could gain Donovan's attention. Demetrius had only hinted at their father's busy life, he should have utterly disparaged him. He'd attempted to manipulate Damian into a safe middle where he neither hated Donovan, nor expected much from him. Where he could believe his father cared at least a little, and where he didn't feel too much of Donovan's apathy. It's what he thought Damian needed.
Demetrius should have coaxed his hatred for him, at least an indifference. It wouldn't hurt so much if he did.
But no. He just had to let him believe that they had a real father.
Demetrius rubbed at his eyes again. If Damian had remained ignorant, it wouldn't have mattered.
Everything was a mess.
Damian knew way more than he was ever supposed to. Damian was involved like he was never supposed to be.
The boy was crying, shell-shocked, and Demetrius wasn't good at comforting. It always wound tight and uncomfortable in his stomach.
As back roads were left behind, the ride became smoother and Demetrius unbuckled to slide over. It felt awkward when he held Damian's head to his side, but it seemed to help so he must've done something right.
He didn't speak. He didn't trust himself. How did one make a kid feel better after his father showed disinterest in him for years, then abandon him at an experimentation lab after being kidnapped? How did one comfort a kid who'd been lied to all his life by his whole family?
Demetrius wasn't good at this. It was not one of the skills he was trained on.
Damian was quiet for a long time. As they drove down highways and watched the rising sun slowly lighten the sky, he curled up beside him and let his wet face use Demetrius' side as a pillow. Damian said nothing, moved nothing, and thought nothing. He just sat in grieved silence.
It made Demetrius want to cry, too. Cry for nothing more than his destroyed nerves. He just wanted to cry.
But he held it together. He couldn't relax here. He could never relax. There were too many risks. That moment when he stepped out of the car and found Damian was a rare moment. It was done unconsciously and it would never happen again. To become so wrapped up and lose awareness of his surroundings. Demetrius wasn't one to worry over people, but when it came to Damian, he couldn't help it. He didn't understand it.
Demetrius observed the Forgers in the front and didn't know where to begin with them. When it was known that he knew Anya, it had clicked into place for the Forgers. He was a subject and the rest came quickly for them. After that. . . it was as if they were trying to keep him out. They'd locked down their thoughts (as much as they could) and Demetrius couldn't pick out the specifics of how they were at the lab. Who they were.
It didn't matter though. Try as they might, they couldn't keep everything from him. They were too sharp, to quick to respond to the SSS showing up, too stealthy in the woods for ordinary people. Too involved with Anya. They came out bloody and ready to fight Demetrius. They weren't normal citizens and he suspected they had some sort of military or special units background. But then, where was their back-up? Did they go rogue? Or. . .maybe they were trying to keep Anya's identity secret. That's it. That made sense if they were actually 00—Anya's parents. They got out right before the SSS showed up. Were they SSS? Did they call in an anonymous tip? It seemed they knew they were coming.
And then Mrs. Forger. She was too strong. Who rips a license plate straight off of a car?
Mr. Forger was definitely better at radio silence than his wife and she couldn't stop the gory images that flicked through her mind accompanied by raging fury that, frankly, scared him.
There was a lot of blood. Memories of a room flooded with red water and—
She shut it down again.
Demetrius sighed imperceptibly and closed his eyes as he rested against the headrest.
He was done. This was too much right now. He was too tired to find reasons to distrust them anymore. He wanted to leave it be, he didn't have the energy for it. 007—Anya trusted them, and it would be enough for now.
He looked up to the ceiling and stared at it.
He shouldn't relax. He shouldn't, he shouldn't. What did he just tell himself?
He wanted to sleep.
He shouldn't trust them.
He did trust them. They felt trustworthy.
He shouldn't.
He was so tired, he didn't want to care.
He rolled his head to the side and looked out the window. How long had they been driving? A couple hours? The sky was getting brighter and the sun was rising higher.
How much longer 'til they were home? He didn't want to go. Maybe they'd get into a car accident and he wouldn't have to. How would he explain this to Donovan? How much trouble would he be in? Could he escape somehow? What would happen to Damian? Would he be sent to school, or right back to the lab. . .
. . .
. . .
. . .
The lab. . .
The SSS. . .
The SSS went to the lab. . .
Demetrius blinked up at the ceiling.
The lab. . . would be taken down. . . wouldn't it. . . ?
The lab. . .
"Ha." Demetrius scoffed mirthlessly and laid a hand over his eyes as tears leaked from underneath it.
Taken down.
Demetrius laughed.
Taken down.
Taken down.
Taken down.
Gone.
Damian couldn't go back. Demetrius couldn't go back.
He laughed harder.
Gone.
Destroyed.
He was never going back. He'd never see the director again.
It racked in his chest like every memory at the lab, every moment that he had trained, all his life that he'd been the perfect son, was hammering his chest from the inside.
"Ha~~" It suddenly stopped and he soaked in the darkness his hand provided over his eyelids.
He wondered if the director was dead. Who did Mrs. Forger make bleed? She definitely killed someone. Who? How many? Did Mr. Forger? How many corpses littered their perfect white floors, and how much blood stained the never ending halls? Were the scientists dead? How would they be punished?
He'd always wanted to strap them down to the tables. See how they liked having their insides ripped open, or their brains tampered with. What it felt like to slowly have your soul decay and infect every part of you.
What it felt like to be dragged through hell.
He would have brought it to them if he could have. He would have liked to see them all burn. To see their precious work, their research, their plans, the lab thoroughly destroyed.
Demetrius smirked.
The thought was comforting.
With another sigh, he dropped his hand and once again stared at the grey fabric above him.
What did he do now? How did he protect Damian from all this after everything he's seen and learned? What did he do about their father? He wasn't going to be pleased and Demetrius had spilled to Damian about Donovan's involvement. Would he lock Damian up in the house to keep him from telling anyone? No. He couldn't let that happen. Well, their father would probably find other ways to keep him quiet, anyway. Demetrius thought.
He glanced back to the adults and met Mr. Forgers eyes in the rearview mirror.
And then there was them. How did he deal with them? Did they really know he was a subject, too? There were certainly enough signs to suggest he was and he was anxious just thinking on it.
He had to deal with this.
Anya's father seemed to share his thoughts and checked his side mirror. He flicked the turning signal and pulled to the side of the road.
Demetrius' heart skipped a beat.
"Loid?" Mrs. Forger said.
The tires ground over gravel and Demetrius bobbed forward as it stopped.
Mr. Forger kept hold of the wheel and drummed his fingers. He turned to his wife and she understood. He unbuckled, the seat belt springing back into place, and twisted to look back at Demetrius.
And there it was.
The lid on Mr. Forger's thoughts blew open as he returned to the present at hand. One can't exactly think or deduct without thinking, and boy, did he ever.
Demetrius easily picked up on the Forger's identities and their ability to actually get in and out of the lab made a lot more sense.
Mr. Forger was a spy from Westalis, and Mrs. Forger an assassin.
It wasn't quite what Demetrius expected and he stilled himself unreadable and collected on the outside.
"Before we go into town. . .I think we need to have a chat." The man said and Demetrius returned his gaze. Damian finally looked up to glance between them.
"About what?" Demetrius choked down his rising panic and played it calm. He'd always been good at pretending. But usually, he wasn't in front of someone trained to read facial cues.
"You're like Anya." Mr. Forger stated and he clearly rejected any sliver of doubt.
Demetrius mentally flinched at this and hesitated. He knew it was coming, but his heart raced all the same. Should he deny it? Twilight wouldn't believe him, but it was his first instinct. How did he get out of this? Could he? He'd hoped this wouldn't come up until they reached their destination and he could avoid them.
Maybe this was best. If he just ran away from them, they'd still assume, they'd still know. He should deal with this now. Make sure they stayed quiet.
"Yes. . . " He answered and he almost couldn't say it. He suddenly felt sick. He'd never told anyone before, it was the height of stupidity to do so. The regret was instant, like a conditioned response to doing something foolish. He shouldn't have said that, he shouldn't have said that. He should've stuck to denial no matter how unbelievable.
The man only nodded thoughtfully. His mind raced with what this meant. About the Desmonds, his mission, and Demetrius could barely keep up with all the separate trains of thoughts Mr. Forger spawned. "I assume you already know everything." Twilight asked and Demetrius nodded. Mr. Forger then gestured subtly to Damian and the eldest Desmond shook his head.
The two held a stare for a long minute.
"I won't say anything." Demetrius promised and Twilight blinked.
"Oh. . .I see." He obviously hadn't expected that to be so easy. Though the only reason Demetrius promised such a thing, was 00—Anya. He wasn't about to ruin this for her when they seemed to actually care for her. They couldn't be terrible people if she trusted them. What kind of person would he be, if he, a subject who knew what she'd gone through, did something so awful as to spill their secret identities? They'd be compromised and Anya's life would be turned upside-down. He honestly didn't care one way or the other about her, but there was an unbreakable sense of obligation to another subject that drove him to grant her that. Plus, there was nothing to be gained by giving them away. In fact, it may only serve to hinder him.
"And I assume we all want this to stay under wraps." Demetrius narrowed his black eyes, belying the intense thundering that beat at his anxiety.
"Yes." Surprisingly, Mrs. Forger answered. Quietly resolute as she stroked her daughter's hair. "We do."
Mr. Forger watched her fingers run over Anya's hair for a moment and agreed.
". . .What?" Damian said.
Mr. Forger turned his sights on him and he flinched.
"Damian." Twilight was serious and the boy began to sweat.
"Yes?" He mumbled.
"You were not kidnapped yesterday."
"Huh?"
"You were never at the lab, you saw nothing, you heard nothing. Last night didn't happen. If it had, it could mean very bad things for Demetrius and Anya. Do you understand?"
Damian shook his head. "Not really. . . "
"Ha~~" Twilight's head drooped. This was going to be difficult if he didn't cooperate. "Listen." Twilight tried again. "This is important. If you say anything about what happened to anyone, these two will be in deep trouble. Do you understand that at least?"
Damian hesitated to nod, but he did. He didn't really get why they'd be in trouble, but Mr. Forger was intensely adamant.
"And you don't want that to happen, do you?"
Damian shook his head.
"Alright then. Good. All you need to know right now is that this will not be left unaddressed. We will take care of it and all you have to do is keep silent. Even from from the cops.
"But—"
"Even. From. The cops." Twilight emphasized. "Got it? Speak of this to no one."
Damian glanced to his brother and he nodded.
"K. . ." Damian said not all that reassuringly.
Twilight heaved a weary, painful sigh and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Good. I'll think up some story for the cops and the school before we get to town. We'll talk more on this later." He faced the front and put the car in drive. The signal blinked, he checked his mirrors, and he pulled into very light traffic.
Demetrius was full of knots.
—-
Damian watched the buildings zoom by as they entered town and the morning sunlight painted the scenery warmer than he felt. He wasn't physically cold, the heat was on, but he was colder than when they were in the woods.
Damian grasped his shins as he rested against the seat's back and his mental state was somewhat frayed. He'd felt in the dark for a while, and ever since that cryptic, earlier conversation, it'd only made it worse. He was the only one out of the loop and Mr. Forger alluded to something big going on he couldn't talk about. Or didn't want to.
What was he supposed to think? Demetrius was a subject. Their father. . .their father had. . he'd caused it. . . and Damian was about to be next. . .
He struggled to really accept it, he didn't want to. His father had always been distant, but this. . .
No, no, no. He didn't want to think about it. He'd just calmed down again.
Damian peeked over at his brother half asleep beside him and none of this felt real. All his life Demetrius had practically been a stranger and his sudden concern for Damian's well-being honestly freaked him out a little.
A subject.
Like Forger.
What was going on? Why wouldn't they tell him? It was more than Forger, it was her whole family, and now even Demetrius. It must have to do with the experiments. Or maybe the organization that conducted them. Was that really something they had to keep from him? Why? It made him angry they wouldn't say, but he was also too tired to argue.
Damian squinted against the sun that flashed from behind a house and continued to intermittently burn his retinas, popping in and out from trees and buildings.
Damian didn't know anything anymore. His family didn't make sense. They were shrouded in secrets and lies, laid over with more lies to cover the other lies.
What was real then? Did his father really never care for him? What about his mother? She seemed to, but maybe that was an act. What about Demetrius? Damian thought with another glance. What did he come for? He'd never shown interest in him before . . . but why else would he come if not because he cared?
This was too confusing.
Mr. Forger slowed the vehicle and turned into the police station's parking lot. He turned off the ignition and faced the boys after freeing himself from the seatbelt.
"Here's the deal." He started. "Yesterday at the zoo, You and Anya got separated from the group. You heard something in the woods and you got lost. Demetrius went out to search for you and found you far away from the zoo. That way it makes sense the search parties didn't find you in the area. Demetrius then called to alert us, and we brought you guys here. Got it?"
Damian nodded and was reminded of the first time they met at the school. Mr. Forger seemed so different now and yet the same.
"Good. Hopefully you won't have to say much. Let's go." Mr. Forger left the car and the others followed. He led them inside and the the officer at the information desk gestured he noticed them. He finished his conversation over the phone and hung up.
"Hey, there. What's brought you in?" He asked. His name tag read J. Brighten.
Mr. Forger spoke with Brighten and the group was directed to the waiting area until an officer could address them. Damian peeked over at Forger. She'd been awfully quiet this whole time and had kept her face half buried in her mother's shoulder. Her eyes were half-lidded, focused on nothing, and he wondered if she even realized what was going on. He thought she was okay at first when she showed up with Mr. Forger, but now he was noticing how. . . off. . . she felt.
The group waited fifteen minutes before an officer was available to talk to them, and Damian learned what adept liars his brother and Mr. Forger were. They lied like it was a favourite pastime and accounted for every hole that could jeopardize their story. Damian gave the bones of it, since he was directly involved and since Forger was unresponsive. The Forger's showed their ID's to confirm they were indeed the girl's parents and continued to wait with the Desmond's for one of their own parental figures to show up.
Damian grew more and more on edge with every passing minute, hoping it would be his mother. He wanted to see her, he wanted her to comfort him like she did after the hijacking incident, he wanted the security. He didn't want to face his father. Not now.
Beside him, Demetrius was stoically calm, expressionless, and Damian couldn't tell if it was real or not. Wouldn't he be nervous, too? He went against their father who did not like being disobeyed.
Pwwfff.
It was subtle. The soft release of the rubber lined frame splitting away from the glass door. The heavy, familiar steps that followed through, and Damian found his shoulders raising like the hackles of a cat. His breath caught even before he was brave enough to turn his head, and one thought repeated over and over.
He was going to leave him at the lab.
Donovan Desmond stepped into the middle of the room, his long black overcoat fluttering, and the door slowly closed, pulling on the tension was ever the figure of poise, rich influence and stature. His gaze was appraising of all he saw, as it always was, and his sights quickly noted the officer, the layout, and the state of the building.
And landed on his sons.
His eyes were un-telling. His face was unreadable. His stance never shifted from perfect posture, and at the sight of him, like a train running full throttle down a track, Damian's desperate hopes and doubts screeched it to a halt and dragged it laboriously backwards by a chain.
'Demetrius is wrong.' Damian deluded himself. 'He has to be'.
Donovan wouldn't leave him at that lab. He wouldn't use his own sons for experimentation. Demetrius had to be mistaken. He had to be missing something. This was their father. He was distant and cold. He offered little praise or warmth, but this was their father. Surely he wouldn't . . .
Damian grasped for that shred of hope, wanting it so much to be true, and it had never felt so mismatched with the unfeeling man before him.
It was hard to hold on to when Donovan's eyes narrowed at Demetrius, let out the barest of sighs, and reminded Damian he was not a patient man.
Then Demetrius reacted. If Damian hadn't been hyper aware of him the last couple hours, he might not have noticed how he looked away like he was afraid to meet their father's eyes. The way his leg tensed over and over.
The train Damian held back slowly regained ground, dragging his feet backwards as he struggled to defy it.
"Mr. Desmond." The officer at the counter called his attention and Donovan smiled an intentional, practiced smiled. The one he used with other politicians and people who were generally beneath him.
Damian watched, the chill having returned, as they repeated a discussion he'd already heard, and goosebumps spawned as his father came to join them.
The group stood in preparation to leave and Mr. Forger offered him a smile as if everything was fine. "Mr. Desmond. It's nice to see you despite the circumstances."
"Yes. . .well. . ." Said Donovan. His eyes drifted towards Demetrius who refused to look at him. "Who's to say we would meet at all if not for their foolishness?"
Damian had a feeling he wasn't talking about him, though it didn't lessen the one big knot his body had become.
"I'm sure it wasn't intentional. Children can get lost so easily." Mr. Forger defended them and scooped up his jacket slung over a chair.
"Hm." Donovan rumbled and Damian noticed his gaze flick to Forger who had fallen asleep. It made Damian uneasy. "Yes. . .they tend to wander off." Donovan said.
Mr. Forger checked for his wife behind him and subtly steered the group to the exit. "Well, they're safe now, that's all that matters." He said and opened the door for Donovan.
"Indeed. . ." Desmond led his sons out and Demetrius smoothly inserted himself between Damian and their father as they stepped through.
The others followed and bright morning sunlight nearly made Damian forget the previous night that lasted an eternity. He squinted at it and he didn't feel so cold.
That is until the Forgers said goodbye and headed for their car.
They were leaving. They were leaving, they were leaving, and Damian could feel every last bit of safety being ripped from him, like being evicted from a fortress to face the enemy, unarmed and out in the open.
He hadn't exactly felt secure or comfortable even with them around, but just knowing they were there. . .
He felt the same with Forger, and Damian watched them walk away with her uneasily. It had only been a day, but their time in the lab had been intense. She'd been his only companion, the only one who knew what they went through, and he was uncomfortable watching her be carried off. So much had happened in so little time, and it felt unnatural that they be apart now.
Damian was a bit unsettled when he noticed this feeling.
Donovan headed for his own car and Damian was reticent to follow. There was no driver, his father had come alone, and Damian unfortunately had an inkling why.
Damian didn't want to go home. He'd rather stay fixed to the pavement where he at least knew where he stood. If he went home, what would happen? Would anything change? Could he trust his father? If he actually left him at the lab, what else was he capable of? What would he say? What would he do?
Damian looked from Donovan to the Forgers and fervently wished they would stay. When Mr. Forger got him out of that cell, he'd never been so relieved to see someone and never so reliant.
Donovan reached his car and Damian shifted nervously in place. Could he just not go? How would his father react? He was scared. Everything was just wrong. He couldn't move, he couldn't bring himself to step any further. He hadn't really really processed all this, what did he do?
As Damian panicked, he was strangely self controlled as he stood in the middle of the parking lot. His heart beat loud, though slow and methodically, each beat like a drum in his ears. He could feel his unsteady lungs, but each breath was consistent and deep.
He didn't know where it came from.
Donovan stopped with his hand on the door handle Damian had never seen him touch before (someone else always opened it for him), and looked back at his sons.
Damian shuddered, but Donovan's gaze didn't stay on him. It went instead to Demetrius standing a few steps ahead of his brother. He wasn't moving either and he was very still. He stood firm and Damian didn't know what was happening.
Donovan immediately picked up on something Damian did not and his eyes narrowed, critical and displeased, at his eldest.
Damian had seen his father's irritation with him before, but never with Demetrius. His older brother was the perfect son who got the best grades, the flawless example of an obedient child, the teachers' favourite student, all with glowing reviews of him. He was nothing short of excellent at home and in public, raising the reputation of the Desmonds as every good son should.
But Donovan glared at him like Damian had never seen and something was different this time. His father didn't sigh, he didn't convey judgement or impatience, but a warning heavy with consequence. It spoke of unwritten, ironclad rules that Demetrius was breaking.
Reflexively, Damian stepped back while Demetrius remained stoic. Strong. He looked invincible to him in that moment.
Demetrius and Donovan needed no words to communicate. Their glares said it all and Damian was deaf to their exchange. He was amazed at his brother's boldness to blatantly defy their father who Damian was nervous to look at. As if one glance would turn him to a block of ice.
His muscles knotted and curled that something bad would happen.
"Do you understand what you're doing?" Donovan finally said like Demetrius was making the stupidest, yet most consequential decision of his life and his crisp words were the last warning Demetrius was going to get.
There was no reply. Damian had a poor view of his brother's face and all he saw was the the subtle, discerning twitch of his father's eyes narrowing even more.
"There will be consequences."
Still no reply.
Damian wished he knew what Demetrius was thinking.
"Either you will come home." Donovan shot a glance Damian's way and Demetrius shifted to partially stand in front of him. "Or he will."
Damian was sure his heart stopped.
"I trust you will take care of the situation and come to your senses." Donovan issued the command, and as if there were nothing left to discuss, boarded his car.
Damian was speechless. That was not at all what he'd expected. Donovan hadn't even said a word to him and somehow it was worse. He'd said he'd have Damian come home. And not because he loved him.
Damian fought the shudder in his chest and hated the worming, stabbing, seemingly living piece of him, that told him he was upset. That he wanted his father to come back and apologize. That it was a mistake. That he cared for him, to show him an ounce of affection that he couldn't remember receiving once.
He'd hoped desperately that Demetrius was lying about their father and it was hard to accept. But now it felt more real than ever.
Damian watched his father go as he turned onto the road and wasn't sure what just happened. Why did he leave them here? What did Demetrius do?
Suddenly, his brother sucked air through his nose and bent his head so his fingers could grasp at his scalp and hair.
"What just happened?" Damian wavered, wanting to know for the umpteenth time, and Demetrius dragged his hands down to cover his eyes.
"Ha~~." Demetrius sounded like he might be nauseous and his steady, firm appearance crumbled. He began mumbling to himself.
"Demetrius?" Damian needed some answers here or he was going to go insane. Why was everyone and everything, always, all the time, confusing?!
"Gggh!"
Damian startled when Demetrius growled and aggressively scratched at his head. Then abruptly stopped as his arms wrapped over and clutched the back of it.
This concerned Damian.
He stepped closer and tentatively tugged on his brother's pant leg who stood quiet for a minute. Then looked down at him
And looked up as a car drove into the sparse parking lot, interrupting them. It cut through the open spaces and parked right beside them.
The Forgers had come back.
'What the. . .'
Mr. Forger emergedto look over the top of the vehicle that stood between them. "Ready?" He said as if Demetrius should know what he spoke of and Damian blinked.
Too much was happening.
"Yeah." Demetrius replied.
What? Damian thought. Why did they come back? Did they plan this? How? When? Damian was with Demetrius the whole time, when did this happen?!
"Right, then. Let's go." Mr. Forger reentered the car without any explanation.
Demetrius followed with Damian.
Authors Note: Hey, guys! I'm so excited for part two, but it might go slowly. I'll update when I can. :)