Board Thread:Short Stories and Fanfictions/@comment-75.25.52.26-20190727210155/@comment-43311054-20191019211914

Chapter 8

Sophie yawned and opened her eyes to find Iggy hovering over her, ice blue, crimped fur shining brightly. She shot up, looking around. When had Dex had time to change Iggy’s fur color? She clapped open the windows and bright light streamed into the room. It seemed a bit late for it to be morning. Throwing on a plain outfit, she practically threw herself down the stairs when she heard several different voices talking in harsh, loud tones.

When she finally came to the bottom of the stairs, breathless, she looked at the crowd of people. Grady and Edaline stared up at her helplessly, begging her to stop the yelling. She frowned as she looked to the center of the room, Keefe and Fitz screaming at each other as Biana stepped in between them. Sophie had to admit, she felt disappointed. She’d thought that they would actually listen to her asking for peace. But no, she should’ve known better. Fitz always had temper issues and the slightest jab at Keefe’s past could set him off easily, as she’d noticed lately. Dex was the only one who seemed to be not losing his mind. He stood in the corner of the room next to Marella, slowly inching away from the scene until he saw Sophie. He tugged on Marella’s arm until she noticed Sophie, and the pair sprinted across the room to get to her.

Before Sophie even started to fix what was happening, she turned to Dex and exclaimed, “I love Iggy’s fur! Thank you!” She threw her arms around him and grinned. She heard a groan from the middle of the room as she realized that the fight had stopped. She frowned, raising her eyebrows as she glanced at Biana’s position between the boys, her arms outstretched as if to distance them as far apart from each other as possible. Then she noticed Linh glittering into sight under the Leapmaster. Linh’s mouth fell slightly open at the scene in front of her, and when her eyes flickered to Sophie’s, there was pure concern etched into every one of her perfect figures.

Grady cleared his throat and turned to Linh, asking, “Care to have some lunch?” Sophie gaped.

“It’s lunch already? Why didn’t someone wake me up,” she wondered aloud.

Keefe smirked and said, “You were really tired after all that quality time we spent together after the fire last night. Do you even remember falling asleep in the middle of our conversation?” Sophie’s mouth fell slightly as she recalled the group talking together. She didn’t remember anything after laying down next to Keefe—and there was the catch. Leave it to Keefe to make her remember falling asleep in his arms. She could only imagine how Fitz had reacted. Then again, that did explain the argument. She rolled her eyes and locked her jaw.

“No, but I do recall telling you two to stop fighting,” she quipped. Keefe at least had the decency to look ashamed, whereas Fitz immediately pounced on him and started calling him out for it. Sophie had the urge to call him a child, as she knew that a lot of the argument had probably been based on something that Fitz had said. Lately she’d been feeling a lot less fluttery around Fitz. It scared her.

Lost in her thoughts, she barely heard Keefe mumble, “Sorry, Foster.” But she did, and she smiled at him. The bright red coloring his face, neck, and ears showed her that it had been the right decision.

“What are you all doing here, exactly,” Sophie asked, remembering that she had no idea why everyone was gathered in her living room.

Before one of the boys could speak, Biana stepped forward and said, “I just thought we all should brainstorm. I know there’s nothing exactly happening at this moment in time, and we can’t just go after Tam, but I just feel really unprepared. Maybe we can have a training lesson or something.” Sophie smiled gratefully at her.

She asked, “Did Sandor ever give you a particularly…special…lesson?” Everyone looked confused but Linh. The usually placid girl wrinkled her nose in disgust as the pink left her cheeks. Sophie groaned. She didn’t want to be the person to make her friends go through this, but she did need to make sure that they were prepared. Even after everything that had happened—she had to make sure they were safe. She needed to make sure that their perfect beings were safe, even if hers couldn’t be.

“Sophie? You in there,” she heard a soothing voice call. She blinked her eyes open to find Keefe staring at her, mere inches from her face. Sophie swallowed the giant lump in her throat and nodded.

She responded, “I’m gonna go get Sandor.”

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Sophie looked up as Biana ran into her room, red-faced, with tears streaming down her porcelain skin. Well, sort of porcelain—the distinct color of lushberry juice soaked her clothes and matted her hair together. Linh winced sympathetically. She had stayed with Sophie upstairs in her room, as the two of the wouldn’t—couldn’t—watch their friends be utterly terrorized by Sandor’s cruel but effective training. She’d known that she would feel guilty the moment the first face of her friends appeared at the top of the stairs, but she hadn’t prepared herself for the overwhelming urge to cry herself.

Before Biana could even get a word out, Linh walked over and pulled her into a hug. Sophie slowly got up and hugged the girls softly, careful not to cover herself completely in lushberry juice. She walked over to the window and looked out. Dex and Marella held each other, and although neither elf was crying, they both looked shocked and slightly upset. Sophie sighed. She’d predicted that Biana would be the first to break—she’d known that Dex and Marella would be okay. She knew that everyone would be fine once the shock wore off. She just couldn’t shake this feeling of guilt that she had—that she somehow was responsible for their terror. But she wasn’t. This was helping them…right? She wanted to convince herself that she was overreacting. This wasn’t that big of a deal. This couldn’t be.

The lump forming in her throat said otherwise. She swallowed, hard, her mind suddenly flashing to one of the most terrifying images she’d ever seen. It was her and her friends, standing, paralyzed, as Tam walked slowly in front of them, sneering. Then it was her friends standing next to her as Tam fought willingly. Then it was Tam, just Tam. His face when he’d told Sophie that he had to do this for Linh. The last glimpse of his icy bangs, his wide eyes as Lady Gisela knocked him out and took him with her. And then there was another image—one she couldn’t stand. It was her and her friends with the Neverseen. She was spared because she was the Moonlark. She was standing there as she watched all of her friends be tortured along with Tam. That’s what she imagined would happen if they went after him. She needed to keep everyone safe.

She couldn’t possibly feel this awful. If she let herself break—let the guilt of Linh and Biana’s feelings break her, let Tam’s predicament weigh down too heavily, let Fitz’s heartbroken face when he’d learned that she liked Keefe hurt her—she wouldn’t be there to save her friends. She was the Moonlark. She had to survive this—some way, somehow. Because what kept her up at night was rarely ever something happening to her. It was her friends breaking, her friends being hurt, all because she’d been created for war. Every time they had a plan, every time they put it into action, she’d wanted to go solo. Not because she wanted to be the hero. That was the last thing she wanted. It was because she needed to make sure that not one person was hurt because of her. And every time, they came with her. Every time, someone was hurt. Dex—innocent, perfect Dex. He’d been tortured and kidnapped with her when he was making sure she was okay. He had a scar to show for it.

Biana—beautiful, sympathetic Biana. Sophie had found her lying in a pool of her own blood, and now she had scars everywhere to prove it.

Fitz—adorable, caring Fitz. He’d spent weeks under sedatives right in front of her, all because the Neverseen knew that she was close to him. His glittering eyes seemed to always be a reminder of just how much she couldn’t lose him.

Keefe—broken, lovable Keefe. She didn’t want to think about how much he’d lost because of the Neverseen. So she didn’t. All she could do was collapse and sob.

Sob for everything—everyone—she’d lost.

Sob for what her friends had lost.

Sob for what her friends had to go through.

Sob for what she’d put everyone through.

Sob when she remembered what it had been like when Sandor had sprayed her with fake blood.

Sob because she couldn’t seem to be able to speak anymore.

Sob—because all she could do was cry. Because all she could do was cry now. She was helpless. Everything was out of her control. And suddenly, she didn’t care about what would happen if they got Tam. She didn’t care what would happen if she took control of her own life. But for now, she could let herself cry; let herself feel. And that was the last thought that ran through her head as a familiar voice sounded through her ears.

“It’s going to be okay.”