Author: Syrai

Fandom: Original // Anguish Series

Rating: T (PG-13) for now but I’m thinking it might change to M cause of the language.

Genre: Fantasy // Sci-fi

Status: WiP

Summary: Second part of "Anguish series" - sequel to ‘Shades of Truth.’ Set about three years after the incidents of SoT. (You might want to read it to truly understand what’s going on in here) Romy’s life changes dramatically when the hidden witch gene seems to be awakening and all the sudden, she becomes the prey being hunted by her own friends. Now the question is, can she still be saved or will her mother’s fate be also hers?

Disclaimer: I own it all. Feels oh so good to say that! Well, it does! It’s so much better than saying ‘please don’t sue me’… now I can say… if you’re insane and stupid enough to claim my fic as yours, I’ll sue your little cute ass so badly that you just want to run and jump like Buffy. Er anyway.

A/N: Anyway. My muse this time would be Poets of the Fall’s ‘Don’t Mess With Me’ and lil Foxie as usually. What else is new? Oooh, there’s something else too. The L-Word. Oh man that show brings my writing muse right back from its closet! Hah. That sounded so weird when we’re talking about TV show that has gay people and closets. Well. You go that way, I’ll go this way. Er.

It’s 2.30am and I have workday tomorrow so… sorry for the shorter chapter, ohkay?

_Awakening_

I watched my own funerals.

The day they decided Romy Hensley should die for good and Julia Parker be born, was a Wednesday night in 2000 and I had just turned 16. It was a bit over a year after they, the fish of the Aquarium, gave my father a written permission to reveal his big secret to me and welcome me into his world. Into the real world, as they said, behind the silver curtains. In the end, it wasn't my father that told me though and welcomed me, so to speak. Oh no, it was them alright. Nah, I’m not complaining, it was better that way when you think of it. At least now I can lie to myself that he wasn’t the one that lied straight to my face and forced me to choose this life. They did and he was just forced to go with it.

Man, I used to like my life, you know.

Anyway, my birthday turned into a nightmare when I came home from school that day only to find a platinum haired man in a dark suit standing in the middle of our living-room and talking with dad... wearing a gun and obviously waiting for me. Dad, he didn't talk much - gave me a hug and told me to be a good girl and do as I was told. And that's what I did, no messing around, no being difficult, no nothing. I was a good girl but not because I was scared… I wasn’t, because even the thought that maybe I should be didn’t occur to me then - not even once. I didn’t think that my own father would do anything to jeopardize my well-being and I didn’t realize how serious the situation was. I get it now.

It was what defined the course of my life.

So, it's a standard procedure they take you in the day you turn 15 - if they think you're good enough to work for them, that is. But it's not how it always goes. The children that they do not accept are sent into these institutions - psychiatric hospitals or boarding schools all over the world where the Centre can keep their eyes on the rejected children to make sure they don’t go and expose them. The Centre ruins their lives just to hide its own existence.

Yeah, I used to be fine with that.

Father always said I was one of the lucky ones.

I don’t know about that.

At first I was, I suppose. I mean they didn’t take my father away from me and I got to stay in my old school with my old friends even though everything had already changed... But then… then everything started to go wrong and I had no control over the situation whatsoever. They; the people I cared about slowly disappeared as I grew older and more withdrawn. Usually the Centre gives you time to finish your school and get your act together before they complete the first step and fake your death, but with me it’s not how it turned out.

…The first boy I ever kissed was Kevin Mayer.

Back at school, after the Centre had recruited me, I was always the one sitting alone in the cafeteria, standing in the corner hoping that no one would actually notice me and speak to me. Oh God, no, go away! You could say it was not that easy for me to connect with people of my own age when the big secret shadowed me everywhere. I couldn’t tell them who I really was and what I was doing with my life. Sure, few of them knew my name but not the real me. They didn’t know I was taking shooting lessons or why my father made me jog 5 kilometers every day. They thought he was insane and I kept the show on for them. I made them believe my father was a fucking nutcase and all those things they knew he made me do, I hated. But I didn’t. I loved it all. I felt so special.

…Kevin Mayer was a mistake.

You know; the kind of mistake that you’ll never forget. I don’t know if it was about love – I was only 16 and knew nothing of real love, but I definitely felt something. Maybe he was my first love, maybe he wasn’t, I don’t know. He had been stalking me for days when I finally gave in and went out with him. He was waiting me outside the library and practically grabbed my arm and forced to stop and hear him out. It was so strange and new to me, because Kevin was exactly the kind of guy ever girl wanted to date just because he was senior and most importantly; had a car. Every one but me ran after him trying to please him with every way possible. I guess that’s why he noticed me in the first place.

Dad told me not to go. He said it was best for me to stay out of trouble and avoid building connections before the first step was fully completed but I didn’t listen to him. It was the first and last time I lied to him and ignored his command. Alright, I won’t date him then. Sure dad, I’ll go to bed right after the movie ends. Hell no. I sneaked out, went to see Kevin and for the first time I had fun.

Nothing lasts forever, we know that.

Why did I let him take me home? I don’t know, I wasn’t thinking clearly. He drove me home, walked me to the door, gave me a kiss that made my knees go soft… and made me forget I promised not to go out with him and see that there’s something else in life besides the Centre. And well, that’s the last time I ever actually spoke to him. The next day Romy Hensley died in a violent car accident and Julia Parker got transferred into a new school in Philadelphia. We only stayed there for a year though, before we had to move again.

I don’t know if it was dad’s idea or if the Centre was behind it all, but it taught me that the only options you have are the ones they give you. You do not defy your father and the sooner you learn that, the better.

That’s what father told me the next day when we were sitting in the limousine. That’s what he said ever since. He was so mad at me and at the time I didn’t understand his words. I didn’t understand why he was so angry. What had I done wrong? "Romy", he started with a sad, longing smile on his lips and gently touched my cheek before he continued again. "Never ever", he said, "let yourself become more important than the good we’re trying to create. The Centre takes care of you, ok kid?"

Okay dad, sure. The Centre is what comes first and everything else is secondary. Irrelevant. Everything else is nothing. And I believed him because I honestly thought it was how he felt towards the Centre. Maybe he did… but maybe he didn’t. I guess I’ll never know for sure how much he really knew… how much he approved of the things they did.

Looking back, the weirdest part is that I never did think I’d be better or more important than the Centre, till now. I may have hated them at times, but I always respected them too. They were the good guys that had to fight dirty because it’s how the world works, right? Yeah, sure, whatever. It’s gone now. All gone. No more illusions.

Never again.

Sitting here, listening to the voices coming through the door, I feel like I’m there all over again, watching my father cry when he drops the bouquet of yellow flowers, my favorite kind, on my coffin wiping off the tears. Like then, I keep telling myself that it’s not real. Those are not real tears. I’m here, he knows I’m here. Only now, years after, I realize how amazing and believable his act was… and it makes me question everything he ever said to me. Maybe it was all an act of his, part of some bigger play. How am I supposed to know the difference? Maybe all he ever did was lie? God I hope not.

Through the dark windows I saw Kevin there, wearing a suit and telling my father what a great girl I was. All I wanted to do is run out of the car and let the whole goddamn world know I was still there. Alive. But I didn’t move. I hardly even breathed... I just let the tears run down my cheeks without making a sound.

Romy Hensley is dead.

Another, a bit louder knock on the door wakes Chelsea up for good. It’s a miracle of some kind; the girl has the ability to sleep through a storm. From the corner of my eye I see how she sits up startled and inhales sharply, scared. I don’t blame her for that one; I’m scared for her too. "Romy?" She calls out my name so quietly that I barely even catch the whisper. Even though I want to, I can’t move closer to her. So instead of actually doing anything, I sit there staring at the door fearing it’ll be kicked in and whisper back: "Shhh, it’s ok."

"It doesn’t sound like ok."

Humph. A clever girl indeed. If the situation wasn’t what it is, I’d maybe laugh at her words but now there’s nothing funny about them. Being a mother-character is more difficult than one might think. "Go to the bathroom."

Chelsea just tilts her head to one side completely ignoring the fact it was an order I gave her, not a request as she very well knows. "Why?"

Why? Goddamnit Chelsea, I don’t have time for this! "Just do it, Chessie", I bark through gritted teeth and this time my words actually do have some kind of effect. She slowly gets out of the bed, drops onto the floor and crawls towards me... which is obviously the wrong direction. "What is it?"

"Chelsea please", I beg her, totally ignoring the fact I’m supposed to be the older one here and on top of the command-chain. "We don’t have time for this. I want you to go to the bathroom and be as quiet as possible. Whatever happens, don’t make a peep. You don’t want anyone to know you’re here, alright?"

"Romy!" The yell is followed by a bang on the door. I’m not entirely sure why he hasn’t broken the door down yet, maybe he’s trying to give me a chance to make the right decision as if it mattered anymore. As if I had a choice. Even if I did, I wouldn’t choose the option he’s giving me.

"Is it something bad? Who is he?" For a smart girl, she’s way too naïve. Is it something bad? There’s a guy behind our door screaming at me, calling out my name, telling me to open the door. You were just shot and this guy… Oh my god. The sudden thought hits me making me draw a breath. If Trey was the one who killed her parents, I can’t have her in the room when he finally does decide to make his grand, macho entrance. Brain trauma, I’m telling you. Probably as much as mine as hers...

"No one", I answer back and give her a rather ungentle push towards the bathroom which flies her straight down on her back. I don’t care if it hurt her; a new bullet would hurt a lot more I’m sure. She’s alive and I want to keep it that way. "Now go." Without saying another word she finally does as she’s told and starts to crawl towards the bathroom door. I can hear her quiet sobs, but there’s nothing I can do about it right now. She’s a tough girl, she’ll handle it.

"Open the door, Romy."

I breathe in shakily.

It’s Trey.

"I know you’re there. Open. The. Door. You know what happens if you don’t." His tone of voice has changed all the sudden, it’s calmer now but also more demanding. The despair in his voice is slowly breaking my guard down.

This is the kind of neighborhood where no one dares to call police, not the owner and definitely not the guests. Maybe bringing a child to a place favored mostly by hookers wasn’t such a smart thing to do, but it was all I could come up with. But knowing this makes me very aware of the fact there’s not going to be police helping me out of this mess… So I should be quiet. I should sit there in the dark without making a single sound and just wait till he breaks the door down or gives up and in both cases, I would have the advantage over the situation ‘cause I could shoot him and take him down nice and tidy. So I should, yeah. Protecting Chelsea is what matters now and I don’t know if I can trust him… but the words escape into the air before I can stop myself.

"Yeah, I’ll fucking shoot you, Trey."

The banging stops the minute he hears my voice. Without hesitating he says with strict voice: "I’m willing to take that risk."

I’m not. You stupid idiot, go away.

"Just let me in. I’m alone", he continues when I say nothing to let him know I heard his comment. I wish I hadn’t.

Only when I hear the bathroom door closing behind Chelsea, I carefully get up and walk to the door. Hands against the door, I lean closer and press my forehead against it closing my eyes. The sweat on my forehead slowly drips down my nose, alongside my neck down to my chest. A few shaky breaths and I’m ready to continue again. With my eyes still closed, I speak, "Where’s Raven?"

"I’m alone, Parker. This is not about the Centre."

And he honestly expects me to believe that? Of course, if he actually did have back-up with him I would’ve been taken down by now, but there’s not even a one rational reason for him being here alone. How the hell did he even find me? I thought I had been so damn careful not to leave any signs for them to trace back to me. Obviously, I made a mistake somewhere. Where?

"…Then what is it about?" Do I even want to know? Truth might be something I can’t handle and lies are something I don’t want; don’t deserve. So whatever he says, I’ll lose. Funny how it’s always me who has to accept the defeat, don’t you think? If just for once things could go like I’ve planned them to go and I’d be happy for the rest of my short life. Ecstatic almost.

"Open the door and I’ll tell you."

If I had to make a list of things I regret the most, the thing I’m about to do would probably be my number one. I’ve done shit loads of stupid stuff in my life, there’s no denying that but I guess there’s just no limit to my own stupidity. Take this for example. I let my hand fall down to touch the door-knob, unlock the door and after hearing the lock click quietly, I push the door open and step backwards doubling the space between us.

He steps over the threshold immediately, as if he was afraid I’ll change my mind and slam the door shut right in front of his face. So instead, he comes in and closes the door after him. He doesn’t seem to have a gun with him, but I don’t let myself forget the fact he might be hiding one behind his back, underneath the protective care of his black leather jacket. The jacket tells me he came by his motorbike which is civilian vehicle which confuses me. He never uses his precious when he’s on duty…

I can’t look him in the eye, but I can’t look other direction either. There’s a smile in the corner of his mouth that I can’t translate into English; my brain is unable to read it. It’s something between angry, malicious and relieved, maybe. The look in his eyes falls into the same category, it’s intense; burning… hiding something but somehow eager to share the secret with me. It’s the kind of look that makes me feel like I’ve been naughty little girl and he’s here to punish me for whatever bad thing I’ve done. Well as ironic as it is, it’s exactly what’s going on, isn’t it? I’ve done something bad and he’s here to make sure I’m not going to get away with it.

"So, what is it about?" It’s all I want to know, all I need to know. After that I’m free to move on, at least I hope so.

"You and me Parker", husky voice whispers, "you and me."

Oh no, don’t you dare. He can’t do this to me; can’t find me like this, come here uninvited and try to manipulate me into thinking – believing he has some sort of real feelings for me. As if what we had was a healthy relationship and nothing else. Who gave him the rights to fool around with my mind? The grip of the gun I’m holding gets tighter. I wouldn’t even remember I still have the gun if I didn’t feel its cold surface against my leg.

"It’s over. The illusion you created is gone now. It’s over."

It sounds as if I was dumping him which I’m not. We were never together, honestly. I don’t know why he always acted as if it wasn’t like that when we both knew it was just a game we love to play when there was nothing on TV. Then why do I feel like I would lying not only to him, but to myself too?

"Stop that. Don’t pretend I was just some random fuck every now and then" he says sounding tense and tilts his head for a few seconds, "I could get offended."

God I hope Chelsea has covered her ears and isn’t hearing us. The verbal fight we’re driving into any minute now is something I don’t want her to hear, but it’s not like I can ask him to hold his language. I can’t let him know she’s there; who knows what would happen then? If she’s as smart as I like to think she is, she’s already climbed out of the little window and is hiding somewhere near the motel. If not, well there’s not a goddamn thing I can do about it right now other than hope.

"I don’t care." Trying not to bite my lip nervously, I glare at him. "Now tell me what you’re doing here so that I can throw you out."

He laughs sarcastically. "You do realise I know where you are now?"

Hello, I’m not stupid. What did he think? That I’m going to stay here like a good girl should and wait for him to come and collect me. Lock me up into some little cell and accept it. Strange, really. Whenever I hunted witches, I told them to stop fighting and accept the fact they have no choice but to bend; to do what we wanted them to do. We told them they’re bad beings, not even human. And some of them really started to believe all that shit and gave up. Few even killed themselves with their own powers believing it was what they deserved. Now when it’s me, the situation is suddenly different. I see nightmares of those people I delivered to the hands of the Centre; dream how they free themselves and come to kill me and make my pay for all the things I did. I was wrong and all I want to do is tell it to them. Apologize. But it’s not possible unless I go back and well, I think I made myself pretty clear. It’s probably what I would deserve, but it would leave Chelsea out of protection. Or maybe it’s the excuse I made for myself – why I don’t have to suffer like all my victims did because I know I couldn’t handle it.

"Yeah, but do you realise that I’m not gonna stay here and wait to be found again? We are gonna leave and never come back."

I don’t even notice my slip before he frowns and tilts his head - again. It’s what tells me my mistake; tilting his head is the gesture he always makes when something makes him dubious. One big fucking whoops.

"We?"

"I mean… I mean me." Naturally, the stuttering erases the little I’m trying to say. When you’re lying to someone’s face it’s the obvious sign that gives you away, so…

Something flickers in his eyes and this time I know exactly what it is, even though I don’t want to believe it at first. Jealousy. "Romy…" His voice has gotten a new kind of edge; it’s deep and furious. He closes the gap between us so fast that I don’t have time to react. His hands close around my arms and the gun falls down on the floor. "Are you having an affair with some asshole?" He makes it sound like I was cheating on him? "Is it that Patrick?"

I flinch when the squeeze gets even tighter but not even a single whimper escapes my mouth. "What?!" I exclaim, "No! Not that it’s any of your business…" There’s a way out; a way to end the game. I hesitate to take the needed step, but only for a second. My tone of voice has a hint of faked consent, "..and what if I was? My personal life is personal and has nothing to do with you."

Now, if only I actually believed my own words…"Romy, don’t do that", demanding voice warns me. He looks at me but only barely and though I know Trey’s not the type to hit a woman, there’s a look on his face that gives me a reason to rethink that assumption. He casts one glance to his side before he’s ready to contact my eyes again.

"Do what?" I ask now that I’m sure he’s not going to smack me. Of course, if he actually did that it would give me an excellent reason to smack him back and beat the living shit out of him… and maybe that is something I need. A reason to take my frustration out on him. My anger. All that rage I never knew I have in me, not before all this. I want to hurt him and I don’t now why.

"If you’re telling me you’re having sex with that jerk just to get me out of here, it’s not working."

I can see that. But it’s definitely doing something, it’s hurting you. The smile reaching my lips is unintended. "What you choose to believe is your own concern, as I said, I don’t care."

"Yes you do." All the sudden Trey sounds calm again. What changed his state of mind that quickly? "You know, lying is not one of your best-trained skills." I doubt he could look any more self-content even if he tried. It takes every hint of strength I have not to look away, ashamed. "Or then I’m just pretty damn good when it comes to reading you."

Whatever you want to tell yourself! "What is it that you want, Crichton?" I bring the question back to the conversation and tear myself out of his grip trying to hide the torment I feel. He doesn’t try to stop me when I pick up the gun and fold my arms to my chest as a barrier between us. "Why are you here?" Isn’t he afraid I’ll fire the gun and shoot him to the very spot he’s standing on?

"Isn’t it obvious?"

Truthfully? No.

"You idiotic little girl", he breaths out and before I know it, he’s right in front of me again, grabs the gun tossing it onto the armchair nearby and pulls me into his arms. No, please, don’t do that. He buries his face down to the nape of my neck and takes a deep breathe mumbling some words I can’t understand. Feeling Trey land butterfly kisses to the side of my neck, my first reaction is to push him away, but when my hands finally meet his shoulders it’s not what happens. My head falls back and fingers wrap a fistful of his shirt not wanting to let go. My breathing gets unstable and I’m angry at myself. Angry at my body for betraying me like this. His hands travel down my back and…

"… Stop", I get the needed word out, eventually. Immediately he stops and pulls back only to look me in the eye. Probably looking for a confirmation to make sure I meant it. I can feel my cheeks blush even though I try to fight it. I can’t believe I just did that; let my body display my feelings like I was some inexperienced teenager. Disgusting!

"Why?"

Dear God, do you really need to ask? "Because you… you can’t do this to me. I know what you’re trying to do." Do I? I can feel the tears build up somewhere in my throat but I refuse to show it. Refuse to cry when there’s nothing to cry about.

He frowns looking suspicious. "What am I trying to do then?"

I almost wished he wouldn’t make me say it to his face... Saying it just makes it seem more real. I didn’t want to admit that it hurts, but it does. God this sucks. Is this fate’s way of punishing me for all those horrible things I’ve done? "You’re trying to get me come back there without a fight", I spit out angrily, "Pretending to love me is hardly going to change anything."

"Who said anything about pretending?" He asks raking one hand through his messy hair.

"Oh please, I’m not buying that." I’d want to, though… Alright, what we need is a change of subject. Something to divert his attention from me to the situation on hand. Much more pleasant for me that way even though it splits my escaping chances to half.

"So, are the troops gonna bust in soon or what?"

Actually, it is very weird they haven’t done that yet. Putting together all the pieces reveal a done puzzle that I still cannot understand. He’s just been ordered to make me believe he has no intentions of harming me, right? It’s what he wants me to see. "No, not yet", he says and fist of disappointment twists my guts nastily even though I knew to expect it. Yeah, translating his answer is rather easy. "Yeah, but they are gonna do it at some point."

"You never know." A simple shrug and apologizing smile. What the hell is wrong with him?

I need to get rid of him but I see no way how to do it. Damn me for letting him in! The only trick is to lure him out of the room, but I’m pretty sure he won’t fall for that scheme. He’s way too smart to be fooled like that. "How did you find me?"

"It’s my job, isn’t it?"

It’s a kick to my stomach. "Exactly so…" Maybe I should tell him that reminding me of his job is not the best way to get my trust… although it’s the best way to make me remember that. "If you ain’t here to cuff me and drag me back to that shit hole, then what are you here for? And please, don’t make me ask again. Repeating myself ten times gets kinda boring."

He stares at me, smiling. Obviously my bitchy tone just amuses he… how nice.

What he says next, makes my jaw drop down. "If you’re leaving", he starts, "I want to come with you."