Chapter Three
Brook was gone.
Yuri returned to chaotic running in the halls as, agents privy to knowledge of the labs, dashed around fulfilling their superior's orders. A telepath had escaped, and with her, national secrets that must stay secret.
When Yuri reported to the higher-ups, they assigned him to join the hunt for Subject 001.
Apparently, they'd been infiltrated. Someone got in as an SSS agent and released her. They'd blended in perfectly and was only noticed when spotted on the security cameras. They had been careful to hide their face.
Yuri sighed as he finished up some paperwork about the lab they'd taken down.
He had dealt with Brook before. And she'd been a pain. He had a feeling this time wasn't going to be any different.
—
The Forgers would take care of it, they told him.
If Demetrius' didn't already know about Operation Strix, he'd find it strange they'd help to this extent. They said they would deal with Donovan themselves, and that a kid like Demetrius shouldn't get involved.
A kid. They'd called him a kid and he'd laughed. He hadn't been a kid for a while, but who was he to argue? If they wanted to do this themselves, why not take advantage? He could help from the sidelines.
The Forgers offered their home to him until Donovan was no longer a problem, at which point, Demetrius would go and live with his mother. They would keep him updated on their new mission and instructed him to just lay low. Go to school. Do your homework, etc, etc. Don't to anything stupid.
As if. Demetrius had survived this long, he wasn't about to mess it up now.
He pulled out of the memory and looked to Damian.
Demetrius didn't know what possessed him to walk Damian to school that morning. Eden College was a good walk away and they had to leave early to make it on time. His little brother wasn't all for it, but frankly, Demetrius didn't care.
A couple mornings ago, Mr. Forger had called the school to explain what happened and they all took a day off yesterday. Anya skipped today as well due to a fake fever that Twilight fed the school. So, they went without her. Twilight offered to drive them but Demetrius decided they were going to walk.
Demetrius, himself, rather enjoyed it. He was oddly relaxed and walking outside without his father, without someone to keep tabs on him was a new, freeing experience.
Despite Demetrius' consistent impeccable behaviour, his father never did trust him. It was a big factor to why Demetrius had never lived in the school's dorm, but rather at home.
'He was cut off years ago.'
Damian's thoughts reached Demetrius and the earlier conversation was recalled. Damian had asked about the director and his relation with the Forgers. Anya's parents were stingy with the details and claimed the director was disowned from the family. Mr. Forger played it very well.
However, Damian was far from appeased and constantly thought on it. He knew something was off. Like why the director thought it was a good idea to kidnap his own family member when she or her family could rat him out. He had run an illegal experimentation lab, it was just stupid.
Damian also had more questions about their father, but was hesitant to ask them. The evidence was stacked against Donovan, and yet Damian clung to a denial that dwindled little by little. It was hard for him to process, and harder to accept.
It fascinated Demetrius in a twisted way. How Damian still carried hope, however small, that their father wasn't that terrible. That there was a chance he actually cared for his sons.
Demetrius once thought that way as well. That being cold was just his father's personality, and that deep down he did care for Demetrius.
That is until he started going to school. It was there he gradually learned that not all fathers were like that and it seemed that the other students were not used by their families the way Demetrius was. Which made sense, as he was specifically told he was special. That he'd be used for great things. But his father, apparently, was just as cold to him as it appeared.
And so it fascinated him. Damian, who'd lived a very different life, who'd been told the truth of their father, hadn't completely shed his delusions and had trouble even seeing that he needed to.
That was okay, Demetrius thought.
He would rip them off for him.
—-
This was odd.
Weird.
The past couple days, a little jarring.
Damian was spending quantifiable time with Demetrius. More than a few minutes. They spoke little more than in the past, and somehow it was different. Their words seemed to carry more, said more, meant more.
It was as if Damian had gained a new family member. That was just how little they'd interacted and knew about each other. He thought getting to know Demetrius might be a good thing, but right now. . .
"Demetrius." Damian said grumpily. "Why are we walking to school?" Damian dragged his feet while his brother seemed lighter than usual. "It's too early for this." Damian was used to getting up at seven every morning, but he was feeling particularly sluggish.
"It's just for today." Demetrius said and had the nerve to chuckle.
Damian didn't know brothers could be so cheerfully annoying.
. . . Cheerful. . .Damian didn't think he'd ever use that word to describe Demetrius. His brother was in a good mood.
Damian had to admit that besides the too bright sun, his tired eyes, and his body pulling him to go back to bed, he liked walking with his brother. He could recognize Demetrius' effort to spend time with Damian.
Though, it would have been better literally any other time of the day. He thought crankily.
It was strange. Walking with him. If someone had asked him just two days ago if Demetrius and Damian got along, he would've said. . .well, he would have lied and said yes. That would be such a bad look for the family if he said no. But in his head he would.
And yet, here Demetrius was, walking him to school like they'd done this every morning, like they hadn't been distant their whole lives, like Demetrius' attitude towards Damian had been. . .a lie. . .was it? What was with Demetrius's new found interest in Damian?
It was confusing.
Demetrius made about as much sense as several puzzles trying to fit into one picture.
"Careful." Demetrius grabbed his backpack and pulled him away from the sidewalk's edge. Damian hadn't noticed he'd strayed. "You'll get run over and die." Demetrius said flatly.
A car drove past a couple seconds later as if to emphasize.
They said nothing else for the rest of the walk and made their way to the elementary division. Demetrius left him there and went off to his own division.
Damian felt mentally whiplashed from the last couple days as he walked through the school doors.
—
Returning to school was like entering another world for Demetrius. Here, all people worried about were grades and stellas, gossip and drama, and preparing for their blindingly bright futures. They were young teenagers that Demetrius might have been like if he'd been anyone else's son.
But he was not, and being surrounded by naive children in a place that filled them with a delusional sense of safety and self-importance amused him. It was like walking into a throng of blissfully ignorant people, innocent to everything that Demetrius knew. Everything here felt trite and simple. Almost silly. Easy. And it was a blessing.
He could have been bitter and angry. Hateful of the kind of lives they led, jealous that he couldn't too. But when he came to school, he found relief from everything he had to deal with everywhere else. Sometimes his father had him collect intel from some of them, but it wasn't much of a bother. Here, he was just another student. He wasn't Subject 004, he wasn't a telepath to any of these people and they were. So. Easy. To manipulate.
"Demetrius!" Samuel Hedging, who believed himself Demetrius' best friend, spotted and caught up with him in the hall. He was an imperial scholar like Desmond and his cloak fwapped and fluttered when he ran to catch up. "Hey! You weren't around yesterday, is everything okay? I heard about your brother."
Demetrius didn't like Samuel. He didn't hate him either, but he considered letting him go soon. He was getting too familiar with Demetrius. "He's fine." He lied.
"Oh, good." Samuel said, relieved, and Demetrius decided that it was time to let him go if Samuel thought himself close enough to worry about someone else's brother.
Demetrius had never really been sure what qualified as reasonable concern for a stranger. He'd never had that issue.
Either way, this had to be taken care of.
Demetrius' hall was already quite filled when he and Samuel arrived and the first thing he did was search out Carter. He was in the second row from the back and Demetrius strode for the steps.
"Hey, wait, wait." Samuel grabbed his arm. "What are you doing?" He said before Demetrius could ascend to the back. "We always sit on the other side of the room." Samuel said nervously, lowering his tone.
"You can't avoid him forever." Demetrius decided for him and kept going. It took a moment, but Samuel followed. Of course he did. He listened to everything Demetrius said.
Desmond ignored Carter's surprised expression and sat beside him, Samuel joining at the end.
This was how Demetrius would get rid of Samuel. He was merely returning a friend that he had stolen. He'd had his fun, he'd just wanted to see if he could do it, and now he was done with him. Demetrius would mend the rift that he, himself had created, and both Carter and Samuel would thank him for it. Samuel would be Carter's problem again.
As class started, Demetrius opened his books and already his seat mates were passing glares like it was a ball.
This was going to be fun.
"Hey, Demetrius." Samuel started uncertainly at lunch when Demetrius had eventually let Carter slip away from them.
"Mmm?" He said through a mouthful of food. Samuel was particularly uncomfortable and Demetrius fished into his mind.
What a pain.
"So. . ." Samuel half-heartedly stabbed at his slice of beef and sighed. He put the fork down and Demetrius wished he would just spit it out. "My father's company is being bought out and, he's going to be kept on, but it's possible he'll be sent abroad. We're still waiting to hear. And, um. . .and me and my family would go with him."
Donovan.
Demetrius picked the name from Samuel's brain. Demetrius' father had bought out the company.
Samuel looked up when the expected response didn't come and Demetrius blinked. "Oh. . ." He answered. He wasn't so much disappointed at Samuel leaving, but that Demetrius' plans had been ruined.
"Yeah. . .anyway, I thought you should know. . ." Samuel went back to picking at his food, depressed.
This was Donovan's first warning to come back home. He was would take Demetrius' "friend" away if he didn't make the right decision. Demetrius might have pitied his father for how ineffective the plan was if Demetrius didn't hate him so much. He wasn't sure why Donovan thought this would work. He would have to do a lot better than that.
Donovan really didn't know his son at all.
Demetrius sighed. After his father's warning failed to achieve his desired result, his attacks would only get more aggressive. Donovan was in new waters. He'd never had to punish or take action like this against Demetrius before. His eldest was always obedient, did what he was told, the "perfect" son. If Donovan was ever unhappy with him, he had other ways to show it. But he didn't have control over Demetrius anymore and Donovan couldn't forcibly bring him home without making a scene. (Not that there'd be much point). Demetrius wouldn't go quietly and unwanted attention would be brought to the Desmonds.
Public image was everything to his father. Which gave Demetrius the advantage. He considered his father might use Damian against him, but ruled it out. For now, anyway. At the moment, there was no way to turn Damian into an esper to replace him.
His father was at a serious disadvantage and Demetrius planned to use it.
After school, he issued a goodbye to Samuel and considered how he could use it on the way back to the Forgers.
He found them plotting his fathers' death.
Demetrius heard it before he opened the door and sighed. He supposed he should stop them before they got themselves killed. He probably should have told them earlier.
"Hey." Demetrius entered and Twilight and the Thorn Princess discussed possible strategies around the coffee table.
"Hello, Demetrius." Yor smiled warmly at him. "How was school?"
He blinked and wondered if that's what most parents said when their kids came home. "It was fine. You can't kill my father." He sighed as he took off his shoes.
"Um. . ." Yor looked to her husband. "Look. . .I know he's your father and we'll find another way if we can, but—"
"No, if you actually get the chance, do it. But you won't."
"Oh?" Yor's voice lilted high along with her knitted eyebrows as if that statement concerned her for some reason.
"There's been assassination attempts on him before, and they've all failed. He always sees them coming and the assassin ends up dead instead. Trust me." Demetrius levelled them with a stare. "Don't. Do it. He'll know you're coming and he'll leave a trap in his place." Demetrius hoped this got the point across. If they died, he would be left to deal with this on his own.
Twilight absorbed it like a sponge and Demetrius took his borrowed bag to the dining room, taking out what remained of his homework.
He wondered how Damian was doing back at the dorms.
—
Anya slept.
A lot.
While Damian and Demetrius went to school, she snuggled up with Bond in her room where she could ignore the rest of the world. Her parents weren't sure if she was just really tired, depressed, processing trauma, or all of the above.
She slept most the day away and was still worn when she woke, returning to bed after eating very little dinner.
She was stuck. Caught between what she wanted and what her father told her. Caught between what she shouldn't want and the undeniable truth of her father's words. She didn't know how to operate anymore. Just being in this house, being around her parents, wound knots in her stomach. She felt weighed to the ground, and with it, her soul. She just wanted to hide away where she wouldn't have to have to deal with it all.
Anya mentioned none of this to her parents as the bus pulled up through the rain, days later, and her papa double checked she had an umbrella. Droplets bounced off of his own as he stepped back, the door closing, and Anya found a seat.
Going back to school. It was better than staying at home where every moment was hard and felt poignantly hypocritical. Like her own decisions were crushing and attacking her. She couldn't breathe anymore. She needed out of there. Besides, she couldn't stay away for much longer. The excuse given to the school only allowed for so much.
She fell half-asleep on the way and startled awake when the bus stopped. She dragged her lethargic butt off her bench and the doors opened as she prepared her umbrella.
She was surprised at what she saw out in the rain as she disembarked and halted in surprise.
Damian stood there waiting for her. His umbrella leaned against his shoulder and his free hand rested in a pocket. His face said nothing as he stared back at her.
It was Damian the way Anya knew him. The confidence in his attitude, the way he blatantly, but somehow also subtly, said that he was so important. Anya had almost forgotten that this was who he was, since at the lab, he'd just been a terrified, terribly confused kid.
He was the same kid. So why did he wait for her? This was not normal. They had survived the lab together, but he wasn't even sneering or insulting her, it was almost. . .weird. . .
. . .
. . .
. . .What was wrong with him? Anya thought.
"Hey." He said like they had previously agreed he'd meet her here.
Anya was compelled to look behind her. Was he seriously talking to her? This was really not normal. Should she not be surprised by this? He seemed to think this was completely natural. Maybe it was. He saw things a little differently now and it was freaking Anya out.
"Your getting wet." Damian observed and Anya had forgotten her partially opened umbrella pointed to the ground. She pushed it open and took cover from the rain.
The wheels of the bus pulled away and Damian watched it go. Almost as if. . .it gave him an excuse to pause and gear up for what he wanted to say.
Anya didn't hear what it was. Only the weird, awkward feeling that wormed it's way to his shoulders that adjusted as if they were uncomfortable. As if the way he held himself didn't fit quite right in that moment.
He fixed his gaze on her again and Anya wanted to leave. "So, he was your father, huh?" He said casually and, like he'd incanted the darkest of curses, Anya turned to stone.
WHAT THE—?! She panicked as her heart rate spiked. HOW DID HE FIND OUT?! WHERE DID THIS COME FROM?! She sweat and Damian didn't need to speak the accursed name for Anya to know. Goosebumps formed on her arms and Damian had the audacity to wonder why she'd turned into a statue.
WHAT THE HECK?! She internally screamed as if she was accusing the universe for letting this happen. WHAT DID SHE DO?!
Her eyes trailed away to avoid his as her stomach took residence in her throat. What was going on?! How did this happen?! What did she do?! What about Operation Sticks? Her papa's mission would be at risk! Everything would be ruined! Was it even still going?! Where the heck did this leave her?! What did she do about this?!
"Forger?"
Anya didn't turn her head to face him and looked at him from the corner of her eye. She was speechless. How did she deal with him now? She knew this might've happened, but she wanted to believe it wouldn't. He couldn't know about this! This kid just caused her problems left and right!
"Sorry." He mumbled, though he wasn't exactly sure what for. "I. . .figured it out." He shrugged.
Anya didn't know what to think.
"It's true, then?" Damian said as he considered, not for the first time, how much this explained and what else the Forgers were lying about.
Anya was too stunned to answer and Damian took that as a yes, though he didn't say or emote it. He glanced back towards the school. "Class is going to start soon."
Anya stared at him as he took a couple steps that way. "You coming?" Damian asked as if he hadn't just unearthed one her secrets that she carefully kept buried and she dragged her feet forward, eyeing him like he was just pretending to be unusually casual and would attack any second.
He did not and walked with her to class. It was even weirder when he said nothing else. In fact, he seemed to be feeling better than when she last saw him.
Not knowing how she was involved with the director bothered Damian more than she thought.
She had. . .no idea. . .what to do about this. . .
"Anya!" Becky practically jumped from her seat as Anya appeared in the doorway and hug-rammed into her, propelling her backwards into the hall. Damian jerked out of the way before she charged into him.
"Hey!"
She ignored him. "I was so worried when you disappeared! Are you okay?" Becky released the hug to hold Anya's shoulders.
The knots in Anya's stomach were back and her under-prepared brain was not even close to recovering from Damian for this.
Becky glanced back into the classroom and pulled her to the side where they were unseen. She dropped to a conspiratorial, excited whisper. "More importantly, what happened the other day?! Did that idiot finally confess his love?! He must have, you came to class. . ." Becky looked around like it was some big secret. "Together."
". . . . ." Anya sweat-dropped. Too much was happening.
Becky continued with a wistful sigh and clutched her hands to her chest. "To be lost in the woods at night with the boy you dream about and have him tell you his feelings under the full light of the moon. How romantic. . ." She said.
". . .It was raining. . ." Anya managed through her tense, startled state. Becky must have asked Damian what happened, and he passed on her papa's lie.
Becky gasped. "That right! Even better!" She sighed dramatically again. "Wandering the woods in the heavy rain with no civilization in sight. Only one another for company. Realizing your feelings as you depend on each other in the harshest of times." There must have been something high up on the wall, because Becky was speaking to it.
". . .wHaT. . .?" Anya said. She wondered if Becky was okay.
"Just like Berlint in Love". Becky faced her again. "So?!" She asked eagerly. "Is that what happened? Are you and Damian lovers now?!"
Anya had no words as she sweat uncomfortably. She shook her head slowly, slightly terrified.
"Uh—whaaat?" Becky whined, disappointed, and sighed like Anya was the most hopeless case in the world.
She put a hand to her face and mock-cried. "Such a wasted opportunity." She shook her head.
Footsteps down the hall turned their heads as Professor Henderson came their way.
"Eee." Becky squeaked and took Anya's hand, leading her inside Cecile Hall before they were given a tardy.
This was going to be a long day, Anya thought.
—
What was wrong with Forger?
Damian thought for the fifth time that morning as he peered down at her from his seat.
All of his attempts to speak with her were shot down before he could get close to her. She avoided him like the plague and it rankled him to no end.
What the heck was wrong with her! Why was she always avoiding him?! Especially after what happened a few days ago?! He thought incredulously. How could she ignore him like this?! It was ridiculous! Was it because he found out she was adopted? Why would she care? '. . .I mean. . .it was weird her family pretended she wasn't, but it isn't that big an issue is it?. . .
. . .Or maybe it is, considering who her biological father was. . .maybe that's why she looks so uncomfortable around me.' It depressed Desmond just thinking about growing up in that kind of environment with him. Scared him.
And then there was Blackbell. If Damian was surprised Forger was avoiding him, he was shocked at how she'd been acting around Blackbell. Forger still sat with her, walked with her, but even Damian saw how closed off she'd become with her friend. She sat a little farther, responded very little, and often spaced out on what she was doing. She was doing it now, pencil in her hand, frozen on the paper. Damian wondered what she was thinking about.
What was wrong with her? He thought again. Did Damian do something? Was this really about earlier? She wasn't the weird, insane person he knew her as, she wasn't the same. . .Forger. It was like she was in a perpetual state of anxiety. Was that because of him?
This wouldn't do, Damian thought. He had to fix this. . .
. . .
. . .
. . .
But only because he should make up for his own mistakes. . . even if he wasn't sure what it was. And because if they were friends, he should try and fix things. . .right? He'd do the same thing for Ewen or Emile. This was no different. That's just what friends did. It had nothing to do with the fact that she was ignoring him. No, no, Damian was just doing what a friend did.
And when lunch came around, he reminded himself of that as he spotted her eating with Blackbell.
Damian didn't join her and ate with Emile and Ewen at another table. Before long, the mess hall began to empty and Forger and Blackbell were finishing up.
"Go back without me. I'm gonna be a minute." Damian told his friends as they cleared their trays from the table. Emile and Ewen glanced towards Forger and exchanged a look Damian couldn't decipher.
"Yeah, okay." Ewen said, leaving Damian to wonder at the smirk on his face as he left.
Damian didn't like that.
He waited 'til they were gone and approached Forger's table. Blackbell saw him coming and excused herself to the bathroom, telling Forger to wait for her. She also had a weird look on her face.
'. . .that was unexpectedly helpful.' Damian thought.
Forger's back was turned to him and he traveled between the long tables to somewhere in the middle. Forger lazily sat her head in a hand and poked her mostly untouched food around with a fork.
"Hey." He said and she sat up. She looked neither surprised, nor happy, to see him. A little on edge.
That kinda bugged Damian.
"What's your deal?" Damian got right to the point and it came out more irritated than he meant it to, driven by a weird feeling he just now noticed building up.
Forger was slow to react and stared for a moment. Damian prickled when she decided her food was more interesting than he was.
"Hey! Don't ignore me!" He backfired and immediately drew back as if he could withdraw that unintentional response. Why was he so worked up?
But as if he hadn't raised his voice at her, Forger continued to poke listlessly at her food and she just felt . . so off. Damian couldn't repress his anger, but it felt out of place at the same time. And the more he considered it, it began to morph into something more quiet.
"Are you seriously not going to talk to me?" Damian tried again and he didn't like what the pressure in his chest meant at her indifference to him. "I thought. . ." He grew softer and Forger's hand stilled as if she could hear it coming. "I thought we were friends. . . " Damian said. "After what happened. . ." And no matter how much he denied it, he knew why he was upset. That Forger would act as if the incident at the lab had no affect on their relationship, that they hadn't survived something terrifying together, that she didn't also feel like it connected them in some way, hurt Damian in ways he didn't know was possible. And he hated it. He'd learned so much about Forger, thought he'd grown closer to her, and she'd only become more distant.
He didn't expect the words to affect her the way it did and her her mouth drew taut. Her eyes that fixed on her plate grew glossy and wet. Her hand returned to support her face that turned away from him and, as if someone flicked some sense into his forehead, Damian realized she wasn't indifferent to him. Her behaviour had nothing to do with Damian.
Something had happened she wasn't telling him. She wasn't acting this way because she hated him, or because he'd done something wrong. Or even because he'd learned some of her secrets.
Something else had happened to make her this way.
If Damian had ever felt like a terrible person, it was then, when a spark of hope lit up and told him he could still fix this, despite the adjacent sinking feeling in his stomach that something else had happened to make Forger this way.
He was suddenly angry, though he didn't know at what.
Damian took a step back as if this new revelation could physically push him as he processed.
What had happened? How was Damian going to fix this if he didn't know? How was he going to get through to her if she didn't let him?
Well . . .Damian was stubborn. He thought. He never was good at letting things so.
But Forger finally murmured an answer and Damian realized this was going to be more difficult than he thought.
"We shouldn't be friends."