Hello! First upload as a 15 year old whoop! Just kidding it’s not that exciting. So how are you all?? I hope you had a great winter break if you had one, I just got through with a 4-day weekend. So yeah! AND MY BEST FRIENDS GOT ME TAYLOR SWIFT TICKETS FOR MY BIRTHDAY!!!!!!!!! I can’t wait oh my gosh I’m so excited!!! Sorry enough about me, you guys probably hate these, I apologize. How are all of YOU doing? Anything new and exciting in your lives??

Anyway, please vote and comment loads and follow me, I suppose, does ANYONE know why it changed from fanning to following?? It’s killing me! But enjoy anyway!

Gracias! <3 vb123321

Chapter Fifteen



♥ Astrid ♥



The room was spinning, the lights overhead swinging drunkenly as I looked up at the ceiling before collapsing in a chair at the tiny table and burying my face in my hands. My stomach was churning and my eyelids were prickly with sleep, even though I had gotten nearly ten hours during the day. I kept my eyes closed as I heard Wulf and Josh moving around the tiny room, talking in low voices about Joel.



“You ever going to tell him?”



“That’s not up to me, is it?”



I looked up as Josh spoke to find both of them looking at me. Josh was leaning against the sink, a little frown hovering over his forehead as he shoved his hair out of his eyes and then folded his arms over his chest. Wulf rubbed his face wearily, looking between the two of us before crossing over to the tiny fridge and opening it. He pulled out a can of beer, looking in Josh’s direction.



“This calls for a drink. You want one, kid?”



“Sure. I definitely need it.” Josh reached forward and took the can from him, popping it open and drinking deeply. Wulf took one for himself – I noticed he hadn’t asked me – and sank down in the other chair at the table, sipping it. I caught Josh’s eye with a raised eyebrow as he put the can to his lips again, and he shrugged.



“What? I’m legal here, remember? Eighteen, buddy.” He smirked as I rolled my eyes. “I can get you one, if that’s what you’re complaining about.”



I didn’t miss Wulf’s wary look as I said, “No, that’s fine, thanks.”



Silence ensued as they both watched me. I knew they were waiting for me to start talking but the words weren’t coming. Pulling the ponytail holder out of my long dark hair, I re-gathered the thick mass and tugged it away from my face, staring at the tile floor as I tried to think of something to say. My brain was too one-tracked at that point to think about what had happened the previous day, and so all I said was “Is Charlie going to be all right?”



The older agent was obviously struggling to be patient, but even Josh’s face was anxious as he looked over at him. Wulf glanced at him before saying, “He will be, I swear. Armand is the best doctor in Europe.”



I couldn’t help myself. “But who is he?”



“I understand that you want to know who exactly is treating Charlie but…” He hesitated and then sighed, rubbing one hand over the light stubble on his chin. “Look, I’m not going to tell you specifically who he is, just how I know him. I was on an assignment in Wales and got shot, and he happened to be around, so he saved my life. Then things went a little crazy and I eventually ended up saving his life several times, so he figures he owes me a couple. He doesn’t know I’m currently an American agent or he probably wouldn’t be so cooperative.”



“More lies,” put in Josh quietly, sipping his beer, and Wulf frowned.



“It comes with the work, kid. What am I going to do about it?”



Josh shrugged, looking away, and I made an effort to stop worrying and control the impulse to get up and walk into that empty white hospital room. Wulf looked over at me, frowned, and then said, “So how have you guys been? How’s the kid been taking it? That little Canuck – Darcy Jones – she’s been going crazy. She thinks you guys have gone rogue.”



Darcy. I’d completely forgotten about her. Now I groaned, remembering the redhead’s texts from all those days ago that I had never replied to. But what could I say to her? It wasn’t like I could tell her the truth – she didn’t even know me. “What did you tell her? I mean, it’s not like we did go rogue.”



Wulf shrugged. “I dunno, in Delta’s books you have. She wanted to come along with us to London, but Young said no. He didn’t want a little Canadian tagging along and finding out why the Americans are so messed up.”



I grimaced. “All right, I’ll try and contact her, calm her down. Maybe she can help us from inside the agency, who knows? So, anyway. We gonna talk about the fifty million other things going on around here?”



Wulf tipped his chair on its back legs so that he was resting against the wall, his piercing eyes never leaving my face. “I believe it’s up to you to begin the conversation.”



Holding his eyes for a long moment, I nodded slowly. I knew that Josh trusted him and that he had helped us so much – I owed him so much for bringing Charlie here at least – but I was still uneasy about telling him everything. He was still with Delta, after all. Still, I knew I owed an explanation to Josh and couldn’t see any way of telling him without him eventually telling Wulf anyway.



So I began to talk, telling them the condensed version of what had happened when I had gone to meet Jay – Josh sighed as soon as I mentioned his name – and thereafter. When I reached the point when Jay had shown me the USB port holding the entire Delta roster, I choked up, the insanity of what he had said returning to me. And what if he hadn’t wiped Charlie’s name off of it either?



A loud bang made me jump as Wulf’s chair returned all four legs to the floor. The older agent looked shocked, which made me even more frightened, because if he, a confidant of Young, hadn’t known, then what were we to make of all this? Josh had straightened up, staring at me with wide blue-green eyes, and I couldn’t help feeling relieved that this wasn’t a surprise to him, because I remembered all too clearly how he and Charlie had known about Jay’s departure and hadn’t told me.



“So that’s why Delta wants him so badly,” said Josh in a low voice. “It’s not some stupid thing about him walking out or the mafia.” He put his beer down on the counter shakily. “He has it? He has the Red list?”



I nodded. “If that’s what it’s called.”



Wulf leaned forward in his chair, putting his head in his hands. Running his hands through his short dark hair, he looked up at me, shaking his head in disbelief. “That’s some boyfriend you got, missy. You realize he has the power to kill all of us?”



“Thanks,” I replied grimly, ignoring the boyfriend comment. “Hadn’t quite figured that out.”



Josh exhaled loudly, the noise filling the brief silence. “What do we do?”



Wulf held up a hand. “Hold up. There could be an answer to this.” And as we looked at him with skepticism, he said in a blasé voice, “Maybe he just made that whole thing up to freak you out. Maybe it’s just a jump stick that holds his family pictures.”



That made us both shut up for just a moment before I shook my head. “No, he definitely was not making it up. Jay doesn’t joke about things like that.” That much I knew. “And it makes sense, if you think about it; it’s why Delta wants him, like you said. I mean, damn, the Red list.”



“I know,” said Wulf quietly. “It’s just so hard to believe anyone would… But I wonder…no, Young would’ve told me.”



“I thought you would’ve learned by now.” Josh was derisive. “Young doesn’t tell anyone anything if he can help it. I guess this is a bad time to bring up the problems with Pierre’s agency?”



My head jerked up in surprise. “What?”



Someone else I had forgotten about. What with everything that had been thrown at me in the last few days, Pierre had flown out of my mind, and truthfully, I hadn’t really minded. Now it all came rushing back, and I remembered the real reason we had came to London: We had an AWOL on our heads. No wonder Darcy thought we had all gone rogue. Did she even know about Pierre? None of it concerned her.



“Josh ran into them at the pharmacy,” said Wulf, rolling his eyes. “Luckily those chaps tend to blunder around sometimes, even in their home territory.” He paused, looking over at Josh, who was frowning again. “But somehow even they see something fishy when an American teen goes to buy Tylenol.”



“It was an accident!” snapped Josh, uncharacteristically angry. “Why don’t you tell us who they are instead of throwing this all at me?”



Wulf made an apologetic gesture with his hands. “Right, sorry. I’m not sure I can tell you that, though. No,” as we both made noises of frustration, “this doesn’t mean I’m not on your side. If Young hadn’t put that AWOL on you two, it might be different, but he has, and I want to know what’s going on.”



“So you’re not going to tell us anything?” While Josh was angry, I was weary. I wanted all of this to be over, I wanted to be back in the States with a healthy, happy Charlie, messing around on a shooting range or playing video games. I was sick and tired of asking questions and getting no response.



“I’m sorry.” He was anything but. “It’s not my place.”



“Right.” Josh straightened up, throwing his beer can into the sink. “I’ll just wait for Pierre to march in here and inform us himself then. Thanks a lot.”



And as we both stared at him, he stalked out of the room into one of the adjoining bedrooms, slamming the door loudly behind him. I couldn’t remember ever seeing Josh like that before and so I merely sat there for a moment, bewildered. Wulf, paradoxically, pursed his lips in a knowing manner and said quietly, “He’s pissed.”



“That’s one way to put it,” I agreed, still agog.



“No – he has a right to be.” Wulf sighed, tipping his chair against the wall again. “I wish I could tell you guys more, I really do, but it’s probably better if I don’t.”



“Yeah, whatever.” It was my turn to stand dramatically. “You can tell us that all you want, but it doesn’t take away the frustration. Maybe Josh still trusts you when you haven’t told us anything, but I don’t. I don’t know what your game is –”



“My game? My game?” For a moment, I thought he was going to haul off and sock me in the face, but then the spark faded in his eyes and he sat back wearily. “You’re right. But you’re just going to have to trust me. I don’t know what else to say. I gave you the safe house, didn’t I, and I promise you can trust Armand. He’s a nice guy.”



He was right. He had given me Charlie’s life. But I still couldn’t bring myself to trust him, even if Josh so clearly still did. “Yeah, I know, and thanks. We really do appreciate it. But I’m just saying, if we find that you’ve told…if you tell….” The threat couldn’t leave my mouth; the agent actually looked amused.



“Don’t worry. I’m not going to sell you out to Young. But maybe he already knows where you guys are anyway – I mean, he doesn’t tell us anything, right?”



It wasn’t often that I didn’t get the last word, and so I couldn’t think of anything to do except take a leaf out of Josh’s book and sweep out of the room.







Wulf left soon after that, claiming that he couldn’t hang around. His team expected him to be back at base in London in a few hours’ time, and he didn’t want to rouse any suspicion on us by being late. He and Josh held a hushed conference near the front door, both of their faces taut and uncompromising, and then the older agent walked away from the building. Josh didn’t tell me what they had discussed, but I could imagine well enough and so I didn’t bring it up. I was too busy feeling frustrated with the doctor for not letting me see Charlie to ask him anyway.



“He needs to be alone,” the French doctor kept insisting. “He is hooked up to IV, he is receiving medication, he will be fine. But he needs quiet.”



Coming from the weedy little fellow, I had trouble swallowing the words, but Josh pulled me away from the hospital room door and made me lie down on a bed and try to sleep. I spent many hours tossing and turning, thinking of Charlie and the agony on his face and the confusion in his eyes and the mess that we were in. Sleep danced away from me, refusing to come near until I became fed up with trying and turned the light on. And that was how I spent the rest of the night, with my head in my hands on the bed.



As most of my time there was spent either trying to sleep or roaming the halls restlessly waiting for the doctor’s verdict, I couldn’t remember later just how long we were there, though it was probably around two days. None of us except Joel slept at all. Josh tried to keep Joel entertained by teaching him some judo moves. After all, he said to me as I watched dubiously, one day it could save his life.



It did seem to release some of the stress that was overpowering the atmosphere, as Joel’s attempts at most of the moves were so comical that I couldn’t help laughing. Josh, too, seemed to lighten up, smiling more and remaining positive, reassuring me often that everything would be fine. I tried to believe him – I wanted to – and I tried to be as positive as him and smile, but the nagging worry in my chest kept me from doing so. The boys were worried about me; I could see it in their faces as I caught them watching me unawares.



Joel especially was confused and concerned, constantly trying to cheer me up by telling cheesy jokes and searching the fridge for good food. I appreciated his efforts and tried to smile at his jokes, but my heart hurt even more every time I looked at him, because of what I was doing to him.



To keep himself from going insane, Josh went exploring in the building and found a workout room, much to his delight. He spent the long hours building up the strength he claimed to have lost in the week spent in the safe house, even though I doubted he had been in that bad of shape. Joel exercised with him, saying very seriously that at least he was going to stay in shape even if the basketball season was done for him, and so the sound of the treadmill in the adjoining room blocked out most other noises.



Sunday morning marked thirty-six hours since we had arrived at the doctor’s and it was a point at which all of us were going stir-crazy, especially me, despite the exercise. I had stopped haunting the hospital hallway after Armand had threatened to tie me to a kitchen chair, and so most of my time was spent in the corner of the tiny recreation room, crammed into an armchair with my face in my hands as I tried to fight my imagination. What was going on in that tiny white room? Why wasn’t I allowed to see him?



None of Josh’s attempts to stir me were working, no matter how hard he tried to pull me out of the chair or how ridiculous his jokes were. I was sinking lower and lower into despair, the darkness in my mind whispering that Charlie was not going to be okay and everything was just going to get worse. This was scaring Josh, I knew, and his voice became more and more frantic as he tried to charm a smile out of me. I was close to tears and he had a wild look in his eyes when Joel stepped into the rec room.



“Merry Christmas!” he chirped, and we both stared at him. He was wearing a reindeer antlers headband that looked like it hadn’t been touched in a few centuries and a smile brighter and wider than the Christmas star itself. In his hands was a tray with a few cookies on it, probably the last of Armand’s meager supplies. He hadn’t allowed us to get groceries, and so we had been living on his small stash that was slowly but steadily depleting.



“Merry…Christmas?” said Josh slowly, one hand on the back of my armchair as he stared at Joel, clearly struggling to catch up. I raised my head to look at the blonde kid, something stirring in the back of my mind.



“Yes!” For someone who was hundreds of miles away from home in a spy doctor’s home with two teenaged kids who didn’t know what they were doing, Joel was incredibly cheerful. “Did you forget? Today’s the twenty-fifth!”



Josh and I were both slow on the uptake, looking at each other with bewildered eyes before simultaneously tugging our phones out of our pockets to see that it was indeed Christmas Day. Then Josh let out a loud whoop, grabbing my arms so fiercely that I was yanked to my feet and spinning me around in a circle before I could do anything to stop him. Joel was laughing excitedly, the bells on his headband tinkling merrily, and even though we were in a dusty old room that was as far from festive as you could get, I couldn’t help getting caught up in the moment and allowed Josh to twirl me wildly around the room.



“Cookies?” offered Joel. “I suppose Santa won’t mind…doesn’t look he was coming, anyway, huh?” He grinned as he popped one into his mouth, his bubbly cheer like a star in the dimly lit room. “They’re a bit stale, but not bad, considering…”



Josh laughed, ruffling his blonde hair and scooping up two cookies from the tray, stuffing one in his mouth and forcing the other into mine. Choking, I couldn’t help but smile as the chocolaty flavor exploded in my mouth, my spirits soaring from low to high so rapidly that I felt dizzy. Joel started singing Jingle Bells at the top of his lungs, Josh joining in but laughing too hard to get the lyrics right. I clutched his arm as I tried to swallow the cookie, the lump in my throat making it difficult. Josh’s blue-green eyes urged me to loosen up, sing along, and slowly the words came out of my mouth, hoarse and husky from the lump and the cookie.



Joel grinned at me, taking my hands and doing a little dance on the spot. He wasn’t home or even at his aunt and uncle’s, but he was happy. Even after all he had been through, he could still take the moment to live a little and be content with the world. Why was it so difficult for me to do the same? Why couldn’t I be like the blonde-haired boy with the huge eyes as clear and endless as the sky?



For him, I sang along, a smile unfurling on my face as I attempted to copy his dance, forcing myself to raise my spirits. I was laughing a little crazily, allowing Joel to twirl me on the spot enthusiastically, when the door of the room cracked open to reveal the shrewish doctor. He stared at us incredulously, a pair of glasses askew around his neck and his hair ruffled and unkempt, clearly thinking that we had gone nuts.



“I thought you might want to know,” he said slowly, “the fever has broken. He is going to be all right.”



Joel released my hand and I staggered backwards, falling against Josh. He caught me firmly, and I clutched his shoulder again as I looked up at his face with wide eyes. His were big as well, some sort of wild happiness lighting up inside of them as the doctor’s words began to sink in. And then, as I began to laugh and cry in the same breath, burying my face in his shoulder and shaking with pure relief, he said quietly next to my ear, “Merry Christmas, Astrid.”







It was definitely the best Christmas of my life. Armand made Charlie stay hospitalized until the twenty-seventh, and even then he only let us go because he was fed up with our craziness and Charlie was well enough to be transferred to the couch in the safe house. He said that Charlie still needed to recover and he greatly disapproved our decision to return to the safe house. I promised him that I would watch over Charlie and make sure he took all the medication assigned. The small French doctor gave me a long look and said, “I know you will. Because you care about him.”



And then he let us go.



Charlie was extremely weak, as we found out when we returned to the house. He passed out again in the car, but as Armand had assured us that this was from a combination of exhaustion and the drugs he had been using, Josh managed to convince me that we didn’t need to return to the doctor’s. Instead, we took him inside and laid him on the couch again, so that for a moment it felt as though nothing had happened. For a while that panicked, helpless feeling returned, and I pulled up the armchair next to the couch so that I was by his side at all times. Josh kept the tiny house organized, cooking soup for us and making sure Joel stayed out of my way with such dedication that at some point I began to feel immensely guilty. I owed him so much, and I didn’t know how to show that I realized what he was doing for me.



Tuesday night was relatively quiet. Josh and Joel were doing something in another room, and I was in the armchair again next to Charlie. Figuring that I had to do something to keep myself sane, I had tied a blindfold over my eyes and was practicing assembling and disassembling my gun without looking. It had been a while since I had done this simple training exercise, and I found that it was a surprising way to calm my mind. I could hear Charlie’s slow breathing next to me, feel the ruffle of the blindfold against my eyes and the cold of the metal on my fingers, and I liked it. It was normal.



Now that my mind was a little more at ease, I found myself thinking about Pierre again, although not quite in the way I expected. Somehow my heart didn’t beat as fast when I conjured up his face in mind, and I only felt tired when I pulled out my phone to look at the messages he had sent me that I was still ignoring. We would have to talk sometime, I knew, but my heart was too full to think about him for too long.



At some point, Joel entered the room. I could feel someone standing in front of me and waited until he asked a question to determine exactly who it was, though I suspected it would be Joel. His voice was full of curiosity as he asked, “What are you doing?”



“Unloading my gun,” I replied, because I was, and I felt him lean forward to inspect my work with interest. I couldn’t help smiling as he exclaimed over how good I was and asked if I could teach him. His pout was practically tangible in the air when I told him that I probably wouldn’t teach him anytime soon. Then he moved away from me, mumbling something about me being unfair, and then,



“He’s been asleep an awful long time, hasn’t he?” Before I could have the chance to respond, he was speaking again. “Oh, look, I think he’s waking up, his eyes moved. Hey there, guy I don’t really know.”



I halted what I was doing, but everything after that happened too quickly for me to react in time. There was a sudden gasp of air, a strangled “you!”, and then the smack of fist against skin and a yelp from the wounded Joel, accompanied with the crash of a body to the carpet and heavy, panicked breathing after. I reached up and yanked the blindfold off of my eyes, the parts of my gun spilling out of my lap as I leaped to my feet.



“Charlie!” I gasped, for he was sitting upright on the couch, his eyes huge and staring at Joel, who was on the floor clutching the side of his face. The grey eyes swiveled back to me with blank bewilderment hidden by the momentary instinctive anger that came from a highly-trained agent waking from a long sleep. I remained several feet away from him until the look faded from his eyes and he sank back so that his head was resting on the couch again, still staring at me.



“Astrid?”



“Charlie,” I gulped, and then I was on my knees by his side, holding his hand again and staring at his perplexed face.



“Who…I thought that was…” He was still breathing heavily, now looking down at Joel in utter incomprehension, and as Joel looked at him reproachfully with huge baby blues, I suddenly understood.



“This is Joel, Charlie. He’s, um, Jay’s brother. That’s why – well – you know.”



“Who?” His eyes were still blank, and I realized that Charlie had never known that Jay had a brother, had no idea how incredible it was that Joel was sprawled only a few meters away from him. Even when he had been friends with Jay at the agency, he wouldn’t have known much about his family, because that just wasn’t Jay’s style. Everything with him was personal.



“Why did he hit me?” demanded Joel petulantly, glaring at me. “I was just saying hi!”



“It’s just a reflex,” I tried to assure him, forcing myself not to laugh as Charlie gave him a look that suggested he thought he was going insane. “He didn’t mean it–”



“Charlie!”



Josh had appeared in the doorway and was now bounding towards us, grinning widely. I moved a little away from Charlie’s face so that he could see Josh. Some of the confusion dissipated from his eyes as he recognized Josh, although it clearly took a moment. Josh stopped at the side of the couch, just a second short of catapulting himself at Charlie as I gave him a stern look, and hunkered down next to me to look Charlie in the face.



“Hey, Josh.” Something that might have been an attempt of a smile twitched at the corner of Charlie’s mouth. “What’s up?”



Shaking his head in disbelief, Josh ran a hair through his wild hair. “Boy, you had us scared, bro. Don’t do that again anytime soon, okay?”



“Don’t worry.” Charlie looked exhausted, his grey eyes moving back to my face. He didn’t seem to be able to look away from me for more than a few seconds, his face slightly dazed as I clutched his hand more tightly. “I wasn’t planning to put it in the agenda.”



And as Josh laughed and then turned to playfully jump on the complaining Joel, he reached up one trembling hand to touch the side of my face, his eyes confused again, whispered something that I didn’t catch, and then slumped back again and was soon fast asleep.



He slept clear through the night, but it was a peaceful sleep, and so relief rather than worry was on my mind as sleep at last succumbed to me and I staggered into one of the bedrooms to collapse on the bed. Josh stepped in to see if I was okay before going to bed himself, and I took the moment to look over at him and thank him as sincerely as I could for everything. He just smirked and said, “That’s what friends are for. Didn’t you ever watch Winnie the Pooh, Astrid?” and left the room.



Sleep crashed over me like a baseball bat to the head, and I was gone.



When I woke, I experienced one of those rare moments of complete calm. It seemed that everyone was asleep: The house was silent, only the hum of the tiny refrigerator from the kitchen interrupting the stillness. I took the opportunity to just lie there on the bed, drinking in the calm and feeling grateful that Charlie was okay, that everything was going to be fine, just as Josh had said all those times.



After a few minutes, I heard the shower turn on, the drum of the rush of water coming from the bathroom next door. Throwing my legs over the side of the bed, I staggered out of the bedroom, hiding a yawn behind my hand. I glanced at my watch, realizing with a jolt that it was nearly eleven in the morning, which meant I had gotten nearly twelve hours of sleep.



Feeling the kind of drowsiness that comes with too much sleep, I stopped outside the second bedroom and looked in to see Josh still passed out on one of the beds and Joel curled up on the other, both breathing slowly. I caught a glimpse of Josh’s face, the dark shadows under his eyes still evident, and again I felt guilty that I hadn’t tried to help him more. Joel was mumbling something about a girl named Emily, and I smiled to myself, remembering the tall girl from his basketball game all those days ago.



And then I stopped dead. If Josh and Joel were still asleep, that meant that Charlie was in the shower. Which meant that he was well enough to get up.



A rush of excitement shot through me, and it was with some difficulty that I forced myself to walk into the kitchen, as I couldn’t really go into the bathroom. I put the coffeepot on to boil, trying to do something normal, and then sat and stared at it as I waited for it to be ready, impatience drumming inside my brain. Its toasty aroma drifted into my senses as I inhaled deeply, and eagerly I wrapped my hands around the warm mug and drank deeply.



It was some time and a cup of coffee later that it clicked in my mind that the shower had switched off. This was to my relief, as it had been more than half an hour, and although this was understandable, I had begun to wonder whether he had passed out again and was drowning. Now I jumped up and went into the small hallway as the bathroom doorway opened and Charlie walked out dressed in only a pair of grey sweatpants. He jumped when he saw me, colliding with the bathroom door.



“Sorry,” I said quickly, freezing in place. “I didn’t mean to –”



The reflexive surprise left his face. “You’re fine. I just didn’t expect you to be there.”



For a long moment we simply stood there looking at each other. I couldn’t read the expression in his grey eyes as he stared at my face, his bare chest rising and falling with every breath as the silence unfolded. My heart was tripping, my relief and happiness at his wellbeing making me nearly breathless; I couldn’t think of anything to say.



Then he said quietly, “The Astrid von Shauff I know doesn’t drink coffee.”



Blinking, I looked down at the forgotten mug in my hand and then back up at his expressionless face. “Well –” I couldn’t remember when I had started drinking it, immediately feeling a little revulsion that I had begun the addiction I preached against. “It’s been rough, you know. Little sleep makes you need caffeine.”



The corners of his mouth twitched, like he was trying to smile, but he just said, “You mind if I use your room to get dressed and stuff? I don’t want to disturb the guys.”



“Of…course.”



I stood aside as he pushed open my door and entered the room, feeling puzzled and a little hurt at his abrupt attitude. With my own euphoria at seeing him, I had figured he would feel the same way. I followed him inside the room, leaning against the wall as he stood in front of the tiny dresser and mirror, watching him as discreetly as I could.



He had grown, despite the terrible environment he had been in, so that he was brushing six foot, and he was thin, much thinner than I had ever seen him, his ribs clearly visible, but this wasn’t what disturbed me most. Although the bruises on his face were fading, it was obvious that those hadn’t been the only: Most of his torso was dotted with varying shades of purple and blue.



“So.” I forced myself to be casual, folding my arms across my chest. “How’re you feeling? You were out for ages.”



Charlie looked over at me, his hair flopping wetly into his face so that I couldn’t see the expression in his eyes, and then he seemed to realize why there was a tremor in my voice. He caught my frown as I tried to look away, stooping to pull a navy t-shirt out of the top drawer of the dresser. He tugged it over his head, pulling it down firmly as if to hide the bruises. Reaching up with one hand, he lifted the shaggy hair out of his eyes, looking at me with a little frown as I bit my lip and searched for something to say.



“It’s not that bad –”



But I had caught a glimpse of something else as he had raised his arms: Riddled across his wrists, along with the burn marks from being bound with a rope, were multiple puncture marks, like where a hypodermic needle would enter. Inhaling sharply, I grasped his forearms, turning his wrists to look at them more closely. He reacted violently, pulling away and stepping into the side of the dresser, his eyes wide. I stood stock still, staring at him, my hands moving up slowly to cover my mouth as my stomach churned. I knew what those were from, I knew what they meant, and I hated it.



“The purgatorium mali?” Even my whisper was shrill. Charlie hesitated, his face darkening as it closed, rubbing his hands against his sweatpants. When he at last nodded, a tiny nod that I could have missed if I hadn’t been watching him so closely, I wiped a hand over my face, trying not to throw up.



“Oh, Charlie,” I said helplessly, hating myself and wishing the anxiety wasn’t in my voice because I knew he didn’t like it, and then he opened his arms with a gentle look.



My step toward him was almost a reflex, his arms enfolding me as I buried my face in his shirt, trying to force the tears away. His body was stiff, his muscles contracting as I clung to him, but slowly they loosened, his arms tightening around me as my eyes dampened. He was so familiar, so close, that I could barely breathe, the weakness of his body becoming more obvious as he swayed a little on his feet.



“I’ve missed you,” I mumbled against the fabric of his shirt, laying my cheek against his chest and trying to control the shudder of my breathing that came from suppressing tears. He rested his own cheek against the side of my head, the dampness of his hair rubbing against my forehead.



For a moment we stayed like that, and then I lifted my head to look at him seriously, pushing his hair back with one hand. Always longer than an agent would usually have, it had grown wild, hanging over his eyebrows and the nape of his neck as it dried. He closed his eyes, briefly turning his face into my hand before jerking away with a look I couldn’t read. Letting go of me, he leaned back against the dresser, shoving his hands into the pockets of his sweatpants.



“So is it really December?”



I nodded, remembering the pain on his face when he had first found out. “I’m sorry we never looked for you. Josh was going after Cloying for weeks after, but…he said he never caught sight of you.”



“I wasn’t with Cloying,” said Charlie, and his face went still. “Josh wouldn’t have been able to find me, but it doesn’t matter. It’s hardly your fault.”



I wanted to ask him more, ask him where he had been if not with Cloying – maybe here in London all along? – but the look on his face told me not to tread any further. Instead I smiled at him, saying, “You want something to eat? You’re probably starved.”



“Yeah, actually, I am,” he said, and he did look a little surprised. “And even if you disagree with the addiction of caffeine, I think I could kill for a cup of coffee.”



Shaking my head, I stood in the doorway of the bedroom. “It’ll stunt your growth,” I told him gravely, “but I guess I can allow you one cup. I’ll go find some breakfast, too, while you finish up here.”



I turned to go, thinking of coffee and pancakes and wondering if there was possibly any bacon, but then Charlie called my name softly from behind me, and I looked back at him. He pushed his hair out of his face with both hands, his grey eyes serious as the muscles on his face moved for a moment. And then, as he whispered, “Thank you,” the first real smile I had seen in a long time unfurled tremulously on his lips, almost as if he had forgotten how.



My heart twisting in my chest, I offered one in return, and then fled the room before I did something stupid, like start crying again.