Chapter Fourteen

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Authors Note: Hey guys! So, this chapter was originally longer, but 11k words seemed a bit much, so I cut it in two. Please, tell me what you think! This chapter was so hard to figure out, but I think it came out alright. :) Enjoy.

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Anya fled class as fast as her legs could take her. Damian was determined to have it out and Anya wasn't ready. She didn't know how. Having her family know her secret felt natural, her overwhelming relief that they loved her was like the top layer of cake hiding the one of discomfort beneath. Doused in thick, creamy icing and chock full of sugar to hide the bitter taste. But this . . .this wasn't natural at all.

How did she face him? What did she say to him? Whenever she looked at him all she could think about was that he knew! It was all he could think about! He was constantly wondering if she was reading his mind and he didn't like it. Did Anya have to stop reading his mind? Would Damian rat her out if he found out she didn't? Could she stop reading his mind? It was as natural as breathing to her. She could usually slip out of someone's thoughts if she wanted, but sometimes Damian thought so loud, she couldn't help but hear him.

Anya didn't think he'd sell her out. She was pretty sure. She could never be one hundred percent certain and she had a feeling that this nettle of worry was here to stay.

Anya didn't not trust him. He was handling this way better than she thought possible.

And yet. . .

Anya took a breath in some hallway that wasn't on the way to the next class. Damian shouldn't be coming this way.

What did she do? She couldn't avoid him forever. A proper conversation about this was inevitable, but—

Anya clamped her shaky hands together.

She didn't want to have it. She wished the topic would stay deep underground like it was supposed to and never see the light of day. But of course, Damian had a shovel and he was very persistent.

What did she do about him? On one hand, the sight of him put her on edge. He held her secret and no one outside her family or anyone involved with the lab had before. It was downright terrifying. On the other, he had hugged her and said everything was fine. There wasn't a hint of repulsion, fear, or hate in his words anywhere. He felt sincere and. . .oddly reliable.

Damian was like a canon. It was harmless when empty and became a dangerous weapon when a ball was loaded. It may not be pointed at Anya, but just the fact that it held a deathly projectile made her uneasy. She wanted to stay out of range of that canon.

"Forger!"

Anya jolted, her head shooting up from the floor she'd been staring at, and her baby hairs stood on end. Her head whipped behind her to see Damian approaching from the end of the corridor and her palms grew sweaty. She took an involuntary step back.

Noooo, nonononono. Not yet, not yet not yet! Anya panicked and frantically searched for anything to hide her. She spotted the washroom down the hall. She sprinted for it.

"Wh—Forger!" Damian complained. He sounded annoyed. Anya didn't care.

The corridor was sparse enough to weave easily through the students and packed enough to make it hard for Damian to clearly spot her. "Wh—hey!" Anya ignored the boy she brushed passed a little too closely.

Her heart was fast. Her skin was jumpy. Her feet pounded the floor and the similar, haunting pattern of Damian's speeding after her echoed through the hall. She couldn't deal with him, she couldn't, she couldn't, she couldn't and when she reached the bathroom, she slammed it closed behind her.

Demetrius received her most murderous glare when she saw him after school.

—

Damian had to deal with this today.

He resolved when Forger had failed to disembark the bus. Meaning she had either skipped school, or was driven here earlier, which meant she was already on school grounds. Probably hiding from Damian. She wasn't in class when he arrived and she showed up seconds before school would start.

Damian wasn't sure if he wanted to try approaching her again. She had repeatedly run away from him and he'd be lying if he said it didn't hurt.

Yesterday, he'd thought he had some chance of fixing this, and that confidence dwindled by the second. If this wasn't dealt with today, maybe he shouldn't be trying to. Forger certainly wasn't.

Damian exited the changing room in his gym clothes, followed by his friends. He immediately spotted Forger with the rest of the kids and noticed her bandages were gone. She was participating this time and her hands fidgeted uneasily by her chest. Had her medical excuse to get out of gym run out, or was she finally rejoining the living of her own volition?

He ignored the surprised spark that bloomed in his chest, deciding to keep his distance and melded into the loose group some ways away from her.

Professor Henderson took a central position and blew his whistle. He let it drop against his bright, red track sweater. "Today, we are participating in an elegant game of capture the flag. The two teams will compete to retrieve their opponents flag and deliver it to their own side." The floor was divided equally into two by a black line, and he signalled to the hoops on either side and the small flags inside them that sat in short tubes, holding them upright. "If a player is tagged outside of their territory, they are sentenced to jail and cannot leave unless a team mate can rescue them. Only one person can be rescued at a time." He gestured to the back walls outside of the black border lining the gym floor. "If a flag is stolen and the player is caught before they return to their territory, the flag is restored to it's place. Once a team has both flags, the game is over. Flags cannot be passed between hands once they are stolen and the flag zones are safety zones. You cannot be tagged once inside them." Professor Henderson's eyes skimmed briefly over the children. "Damian. Becky. You are the captains of your respective teams. You may take turns recruiting members." The professor fished a two dollar coin from his pocket and had Damian walk to the other side of the gym. "Becky. Heads or tails?" He asked.

"Heads."

He tossed the coin and the children's gazes lifted to watch it flip several times before it landed on the professor's palm. He immediately turned it over onto the back of his other hand. It lifted.

"Tails." He announced and Blackbell clicked her tongue. "Damian, you may choose first." He said and a light bulb lit up in Damian's head.

He could use this to his advantage.

"Forger." He called without hesitation and she froze on the spot, blinking at him in surprise. Ewen and Emile shared her shock and gaped at him. Damian had skipped over them. For Forger. He would have felt bad if this wasn't so important.

For some reason, Blackbell found this highly interesting and her hands made a tepee over her mouth. Her eyes glanced excitedly between him and Forger.

"Anya, you are on Damian's team. Head to the other side, please." The professor prodded when she made no move, her face tightening in quiet panic. Her hands clenched anxiously at the hem of her shirt. Looking back at her best friend, she made a tentative step forward while Blackbell not so subtly shooed her on behind a smile poorly hid by a hand.

What the heck was wrong with Blackbell? Damian wondered.

Forger eventually came to stand several feet away from Damian and he sweat-dropped.

Was this a good idea?

Becky made her choice and Ewen and Emile were Damian's next picks. They took turns until no one was left and Professor Henderson blew his whistle.

The gym erupted in squeaky shoes and feet pounding for the line dividing the two teams. Damian naturally wanted to race into the fray and snatch up the red flag across the room, but he held himself back. He couldn't risk getting caught yet. Instead, as he came up to the line, he lurched to the right and tagged a girl just as she invaded their territory.

"Ahh!" She growled in disappointment and trudged to the jail with a pout on her face.

Damian hovered in place for a moment, taking stock of the situation.

On each side, a few kids protected their flag, ready to arrest any offenders who came near. Several others were spread around and a few kids watched the other team nervously, waiting for a chance to streak in and reach the safety zone of the flag.

A burst of movement sprouted from Damian's left and his heart jumped as he turned and raced for a boy sprinting past the line. The boy was fast, dodging a tagger who reacted slowly, but that was okay, because he was right in Damian's path. The boy made it halfway in before Damian tagged him.

"Someone catch her!"

Already, there was another trespasser and Damian's head whipped to the girl flying and zigging and zagging past the kids. Damian was on the chase, but he was too far left, he wasn't going to make it. Ewen was hot on her heels and it looked like he was going to catch her, but he nearly tripped over his own feet when the girl veered away sharply out of his grasp. Right into Forger.

Damian blinked. Forger had come out of nowhere and tagged the girl. As if she had known where to be and Damian slowed.

"Aww, c'mon!" The girl cried as she stomped away. She had, indeed, gotten very close.

"Not bad, Forger." Damian said off-handedly before turning back to the border. And chased down another boy. After he had been sentenced to jail, Damian compared numbers.

The red team had captured six of their own already. Damian's team (the blue team) also had six. They weren't winning. Damian didn't like that. As he considered this, he saw yet another of his teammates get captured.

He looked back at Forger who had stayed near the flag. Damian hadn't wanted to risk getting tagged yet, but Forger wasn't looking all that adventurous today. . .

. . .

That wasn't something he thought would ever describe her. Or liked that it did at all lately.

Damian studied the remaining nine enemies that he would have to dodge and which ones looked the slowest and fastest. He took note of which students were paying attention and who weren't.

He had this. These plebeians wouldn't be able to touch him.

Somewhere to the right side of the gym, Damian streaked away from the line he had been guarding. Shouts screamed from the other side of the enemy's territory for their teammates to pay attention and catch Damian, but he was already past them. His heart raced. He veered away from a boy who nearly tagged him and then suddenly Blackbell was on his tail.

Damian's path had severely strayed and he ran around the flag's safety zone, venturing to the left side around the back to avoid getting tagged. Blackbell had gone around the other side of the safety zone to meet him head on and Damian's shoes squealed against the floor, coming to an abrupt stop, and raced for the safety zone. With one last dodge from a guard, Damian at last landed himself beside the flag.

"Way to go, Boss!" Ewen yelled from the other side.

"That's Lord Damian for you! He's the best!" Emile added.

Damian huffed, leaning on his knees. He got inside, but now he had to get out and the red team was ready for him. The good thing about so much of their attention being on him though, was that they were less prepared for the three kids who broke from the border at the same time. Damian's guards noticed them very late, and when they did, most of them ran off to catch the invaders. Leaving Damian abundant opportunity to escape. And he did.

With a quick swipe of his hand, he snatched up the flag as he ran out, turning surprised heads at his escape. But he had too much of a head start. He had too much of an opening. With the red flag in tow, he crossed back onto his home turf and the whistle blew.

"Team blue wins. Elegant victory, Damian." Professor Henderson complimented. "Any incarcerated students may return their side." Professor Henderson had the red flag restored to it's original position and readied for the next round.

The whistle shrilled for a fourth time.

Damian was more reserved this round. He tagged anyone he could, watching over the flag, but he refused to dare into enemy grounds until Forger did. It was silly. Probably stupid. Probably fruitless. But Damian was stubborn and he didn't care.

Forger was equally reserved, but for the random movements that didn't make sense at all until she was suddenly in perfect position to tag an opponent.

Reading minds really was handy, Damian had to admit.

During the last round, Forger had been uneasily navigating the game, unsure of herself, like she wasn't quite comfortable being here. Participating. It hadn't dissipated since then, but she moved more, she wrung her hands a little less and Damian really hoped that meant something. He didn't want her to be stuck in this weird state of existence forever. It was hard to watch and it must be harder to actually deal with it.

Damian wanted to know for the millionth time what caused her to act this way, what was really going on, and had a feeling he might never know. Forger kept her secrets locked up tight and the amount of leverage it took to pry them out of her, was something Damian didn't know if he had. The only reason he knew she was a telepath was because he had just happened to get to mixed up with her past. He might never have unraveled how Demetrius had intuited Damian's thoughts otherwise.

"Tag him! Tag him!"

Someone shouted over the loud voices, the dozens of shoes, the constant thudding of children running wildly about, and Damian was dropped back in the moment. He ran for the boy that was indicated. He was fast and agile and he managed to somehow slip just out of his pursuers' reach.

Damian came at an angle, heading for where he thought the intruder would go to escape Damian's teammates, but he swerved again. Right into Forger.

She tagged him.

'Okay. . .' Damian thought as he came to an abrupt stop. He knew telepathy had to have advantages, but it was almost spooky how Forger was just. . .always there. Was this cheating? Should Damian be questioning the morality of this?. . .

. . .

. . .

Nah.

Damian cast his field of vision about for a quick assessment of everyone's position and settled into a general mode of guarding the border. Both teams had significant casualties and both their numbers were halved down or so.

The red team seemed to adopt a more cautious approach and Damian and other teammates danced with their enemies, watching and waiting for who would make the next move.

Damian didn't expect it to be Forger.

From his peripheral vision, he saw the pink hair streaking away and as he had seen yesterday, he was surprised how fast her stubby legs could go. He couldn't look away. It was like Forger had been in hibernation and Damian was hypnotized by the unbelievable sight of her speed. Watching her weave. Albeit with that same look of consternation like she was gonna be sick, but he thought it was the most breathtaking thing he had ever seen.

Even when she got caught.

Unfortunately, even mind reading, it seemed, was not enough to evade most the team running after an intruder who had easily tagged out several of their teammates. She was sent to jail.

And it was just what Damian was hoping for.

With a small smile fighting to twitch up his mouth and a careless step across the line, a hand tagged his shoulder and he let out a mock sigh.

"Aww." He said half-heartedly. "Oops." Damian lifted his palms up as if to say 'What can ya do?' And stuck his hands in his pockets as he strolled confidently to the jail. He cut straight through the enemy's territory to where Forger sat against the wall with her knees to her chest.

She had seen him coming and as she watched him near, her face fell with apprehensive nerves, her mouth turning severely downward. With every step, she was asking him not to come closer and Damian sweat dropped, once more asking himself if this was really a good idea.

Nevertheless. . .

Damian came within feet of her and ignored her fingers digging into her legs, her mouth tightening in discomfort, and her gaze averting away. She had tensed in her unease as if she couldn't unlock her muscles enough to move. As much as it bothered him that she was upset this much by being around him, he had to be grateful that it would keep her there for the next moment.

She stared resolutely at the floor like she might be sick, tensed into a block of unmoving ice. Damian couldn't hear her breathing as he sat next to her.

"H-hey." He stammered, all confidence draining.

She said nothing. As he had expected.

Damian wasn't sure what to do now. He'd thought about how to get this point, and after that. . .not so much. What was he even trying to say? What was his goal? He just wanted. . .to be close to her. He wanted. . .things to be okay. He didn't want her to worry, he didn't want to it ruin their friendship, and he never wanted to see her freak out like that again.

. . .

. . .Because they were friends.

But how could he say all that? He was so sick of this. Of the lab somehow still interfering with their lives and the seemingly endless strain it put on Forger, on himself, and why couldn't things just go back to normal? Why couldn't Forger just be comfortable around him again?
What could he say to make her feel better? He had nothing. He told her everything was fine and she didn't believe him. He told her he'd keep her secrets and Forger still avoided him. Why did nothing work?!

Damian glanced at the other prisoners scattered across the wall and kept his voice low. He just came out and said it. He didn't have a lot of time to work with here. "How do I fix this? How do I get you to trust me?" He asked calmly. Nonchalantly, as if his heart didn't pound painfully on his ribs and his breath didn't pause between each intake.

Anya jolted as if he'd poked her with a hot iron and her eyes flicked to him briefly. When she took too long to answer, Damian continued.

"I trust you." He muttered grumpily, slumping against the wall to cross his arms and ankles that stretched out. "It's kinda hard not to after. . ." Another glance at the kids. "Ya know. . ."

He wasn't looking at her, but he felt her shoulders rise defensively.

Damian sighed, his face scrunching. Forger could read his mind, but he had a feeling this wasn't going to go anywhere if he wasn't honest. "I don't. . ." He shut his eyes tight, regretting this already and sighed again. "I don't like it when you do that. . ."

Forger gave another nervous flick his way.

"I thought. . .after that place. . ." Damian fumbled. "That we were friends. Be—because. . .you. . .ever since then, it's like I've been. . ." How could he say this without sounding entirely and utterly embarrassing? "I've been. . .alone. . ." He ground out, finding no other way to say it. "I can't describe it!" He suddenly said angrily, surprising more than himself at his tone when Forger flinched. "I mean—I mean. . .we. . .were. . .together there at least, and. . .and." Damian could feel his face heating and hear his words devolving into near unintelligible mumbling. "I don't like it when you're not around. . .or when you avoid me. . .or whatever. . ."

Damian couldn't look at her and his warm face turned away, though he could feel her eyes on him.

"Y-you. . .you abandoned me. . ." Damian muttered, his shoulders raising as if they could shield him from his own embarrassment. "I get why you're freaked out, but you can trust me. . .I p-promise. . ." He whispered. His head roared, his chest constricted, he thought his blood would burst his head open, but despite it, a small piece of him shivered at the confession. At the relief of getting it off his chest.

Damian wasn't surprised at Forger's silence, but it had never felt so painfully obvious. So damning. He felt no more movement from her, the barest breath to pass her lips, and the mental preparation for this exact dread that twisted his guts and crushed his throat wasn't enough.

He had nothing else to say. He didn't know how to make her feel better, he didn't know how to make her trust him. He was so ill-equipped to deal with this, considering how much had happened, how much had happened to Forger that he didn't know about, and he didn't know his heart could hurt so much. He had failed so spectacularly to fix this, and he had nothing left. If Forger really wanted him to stay away. . .what did he do? She was the glue that had held him together at the lab, she had tried to save his life at the zoo, for crying out loud. Losing her would be like losing a piece of. . .well of himself. As stupid as that sounded, as awkward as he could be around her, being by her side felt like the most natural thing in the world.

"I know." She whispered.

"What?" Damian started and turned to her, at first horrified that she had heard his thoughts and was responding to them. His heart skipped several beats and he held his breath. She had dissolved into her knees and was having a staring contest with the floor.

"Y-you—" Damian had to ask it. He had to, he had to, he didn't want to know. But maybe— "You trust me?" He said quietly.

With a tuck of her head, Forger's face was buried in her knees and she nodded ever so subtly.

Damian took a deep breath. "You. . .don't hate me or something?"

There was a small shake and he inhaled, his gut untwisting, and his lungs re-inflated.

"R-really?" He said softly.

Another nod.

"Th-then why. . ." His chest shook ever so slightly. Damian was so confused. His head swam with shuddering relief and his mind swirled, impossibly lost. His body relaxed as if it hadn't ever been able to do that before, and his nerves tensed up again, keeping his emotions from spilling out of him. His brow furrowed in utter bafflement.

And tensed all over again when Forger gasped. The sound was terrifyingly familiar and Damian straightened away from the wall.

"It's—" She heaved. "It's scary—." Forger gasped breathlessly as her shoulders trembled. "You were—" Another gasp and Damian's arms unfolded in frozen alarm.

"You were—you were— never suppo—supposed to know." The words were a wisp on her tongue like someone had snatched them and left only a ghost of it behind. She hiccupped wetly and Damian knew she was crying.

What did he do?! What did he do?! What did he say?!

"Uh—" He said helpfully. "That's—"

Crap! This was not how it was meant to go!

"You—" She hiccupped. "You can't k—know. It's—It's w—wrong." She heaved a long breath and Damian stilled.

Demetrius hadn't mentioned that.

". . What?. . .Who told you that?" He whispered unsteadily.

She didn't answer. She was focused on breathing, holding her breath between heaving as she tried to slow it down.

"Was it. . ." Damian didn't want to say it. The word felt incredibly repulsive to even think it. He flicked his gaze to the rest of the gym, but no one was paying attention. The sound of screaming prisoners egging on their teammates covered Forger's heaving well and they were all too focused on winning to pay them a second look.

"Was it. . ." He tried again. "The. . .director?"

Damian didn't miss the twitch in her hands before they moved from her ankles to hug her knees and he scowled.

"He's wrong." He was compelled to speak quietly, but it was edged with firm conviction. Anything that man said had to be wrong. There was no way that made sense.

What else had he told her?! Damian thought with rising anger. She grew up there, he could have brainwashed her! How did Damian fix that?!

"You can't seriously believe that?!" He hissed, unintentionally directing some of that astounded ire in her direction. At her gullibility to accept something like that, which was entirely stupid. Of course she would think it was true if she grew up hearing that. Who wouldn't?

He just didn't like seeing her upset. Especially because of that man.

"He's wrong, Forger."

She had gained a little more control of her body and she breathed deep and far between. Her nose sniffled. "It doesn't feel like it." She hiccupped faintly and Damian blinked.

For the first time, he realized she was actually responding to him. Answering him. Talking to him. She wasn't skirting around the issue or keeping things to herself. She was actually talking to him and Damian swallowed. He couldn't mess this up.

"W-what do you m-mean? He stammered. What was he doing? What did he say? How did he navigate this conversation? He had wanted Forger to just talk to him forever, and now that it was happening, his heart raced with what she might say. Things he had wondered about her past that he might not want to know. The anticipation that she was finally talking to him.

But Forger's answer was rather vague. He was disappointed and relieved at the same time.

"It's—there—." She gasped again, her breathing quickening again. "It's just—it's just there." She shuddered and her heavy breaths softened with gentle sobs.

"Um—" He said hoarsely. With wide-eyes panicking and hyper aware of his awkward arms, Damian searched for anything to say. ". . What?"

"It's—it's scary—" Forger repeated her earlier words and like someone hit Damian with an unnecessarily, large sack of bricks, he understood.

He should have right away. It was scary. It was just that simple. She was uncomfortable around him, she just was. She trusted him. She didn't hate him. He was just never supposed to know. Wether or not the director was right, it would affect her. Of course it would.

"That's. . .okay. . ." Damian offered. "It's okay to be scared. . .right?" His tone shifted low and soft, saying it as much to himself as her. He wished she didn't feel this way around him, but there wasn't anything either of them could do. Not without time, anyway, and not if Forger couldn't work through this.

That was scarier. That this would keep her from. . .

Forger pulled herself together somewhat and the sound of her crying was shoved somewhere he couldn't hear it. Her breathing had slowed, but it was concerningly sparse and erratic.

Damian looked out at the gym and the alarmingly dwindling number of players. The round would be over soon and Damian was far from done with this conversation. They were nowhere in the vicinity of finding stable ground yet. He refused to cut this short.

"Just a sec. . .wait here." He muttered and hated to leave her there on her own for even a moment, slightly worried she would run off somewhere, but he did and skirted around the edge of the gym. Professor Henderson stood exactly in the middle of the floor where the line dividing the two halves of the gym intersected with the surrounding border to make a T, and Damian tugged on his pant leg.

"Damian. Is something wrong?" The professor looked down at him.

"Forger's not feeling well." Damian glanced her way, indicating where she sat. "Can I take her to the nurse's office?"

Professor Henderson followed Damian's gaze to Forger huddled on the floor. "Is she hurt?"

"Um. . .not exactly." Damian said and the professor's eyes narrowed.

"I see. . ." If he understood what that meant, he didn't say. "Showing concern for your fellow classmate. Very elegant, Damian. Go ahead." He turned back to observing the game and Damian returned to Forger.

Her state hadn't seemed to change much in his brief moments of absence.

"Hey." He crouched beside her. "We're going to the nurse's office. Let's go."

Forger was unresponsive and for a second, Damian worried that by leaving her he had somehow ruined the small progress they had made. When she shook her head and her nails dug into the sides of her legs, he bit his lip.

Right. She still didn't want to be around him. He tried not to take it personally.

He wondered how he could change her mind, but then she spoke.

"K. . ." She mumbled, seeming to randomly change her mind.

She swiped at her face and Damian could have heaved with relief when she got up and followed him out of the gym.