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Chapter Text

An Introductory Letter to The Cobra's Gaze

To whomever should find this story,

He isn't a terrible man.

His cold demeanor makes him an intimidating presence. His sharp intelligence makes him a true genius. His harbored feelings of betrayal makes him a bitter personality. His body count of millions makes him a monster.

But he isn't a terrible man.

Every word written here is true, but you must be questioning how I can describe this man I speak of and yet not call him 'terrible'. This is where perspective comes into play you see, and in mine I do not think of this man as terrible.

I know this man, I know him quite well indeed. We have known each other for years and consider the other the best of what a friend should be. I understand that this is a rarity in modern society and so my friend and I are very fortunate to possess this connection. However, I am afraid that he may have realized the sheer importance of our bond far too late, and that was when our world came tumbling down around us.

There were few secrets between us, we trusted each other explicitly despite the unorthodox nature of our friendship. This also includes the when and how it began. We didn't care though, we had each other and quite frankly that was all we ever needed. Two very co-dependent souls, finding each other during the worst events of their lives, latching onto each other only to never let go even after the aftermath had passed for them both.

Not even now am I willing to let my friend go, and I know that he shares my sentiments. I don't believe that we could ever release the other to be fully consumed by what we both sought solace from, what we protected each other from then and now.

What were my friend and I hiding from? How did we find each other? Why do I consider our friendship unusual?

And the best question: Who is my friend, the man whom I find to be not terrible at all?

I won't answer the first three immediately, but I will give one to the last.

His name was once Rexford Lewis, better known as 'Rex' by those who betrayed him and by myself. However I believe you all know my friend better as the international terrorist Cobra Commander, founder and leader of Cobra.

It seems I have quite the tale to tell, don't I?

Your Storyteller,

Sarah Lacroix

Chapter Text

14 | 1300 | Z | OCT | 20

The Underground Hospital, more commonly known as 'The Underground', was a hospital that catered to a particular clientele. Specifically, the criminal element that could afford it. It was created by one such member in the eighteen-hundreds with enough sympathy for the rest of his kind to provide medical aid for those to whom it was too dangerous to go to a normal hospital. Since its founding days, the Underground had grown with the scientific and medical advancements of the world, funded by many heavily invested offenders of the law in order to keep it a safe haven of sorts for them.

From high profile assassins to street gangsters, the Underground Hospital had a room for all of them. Well, as long as they had the money to pay for that room. No one could just walk in and ask for help, as that was not how this particular society worked after all. Reputation played a major part, and with reputation with the right people brought the money.

Of course, I learned all of this much later, as when the day came that I found myself in the Underground Hospital I was in no state to comprehend much other than pain.

Everything felt like it was burning, my right side particularly. It burned with every jolt of movement I was subjected to, the surface beneath me cold and just a painful contrast to the heat I was still feeling. I also couldn't feel my right shoulder and the arm connected to it. My muscles there should have been contracting and releasing due to the pain, but I felt nothing. This became a note of concern in the back of my mind but the pain was too much, and apparently, my tolerance for pain was just high enough that I wasn't going to fall into the blissful numbness of unconsciousness.

In reaction to my pain, my eyes were tightly shut and noises came from a hoarse throat to somehow convey that pain to anyone who was close by. I knew that there were people, people moving that cold surface I was on. Briefly, I could hear them, but only pieces of conversation actually made it through my ears that had been ringing for some time.

"... happened?"

"Explosion… too close…"

"... pissed, for sure."

"Diagnosis?"

"... bad… will get…"

Then my breathing started getting harder, the burning feeling in my lungs also traveling in and out of my throat as well. In and out like invisible fire, and this garnered more… excitement is the best word for it currently, from those people around me.

"Shit!"

A cold object was placed on my face, the outlines of it surrounding my mouth and nose, and suddenly equally cold air was forced down my throat and into my lungs. As much as it did hurt, it canceled out that burning pain and I was more than grateful for that. However it did nothing for the pain the rest of my body was feeling, but once the surface I was on stopped moving someone must have taken some measure of pity on me then.

"Get the poor girl some anesthesia!"

"Needs to… anyway."

After a drawn-out minute the air I was breathing tasted faintly like chocolate.

After another minute, the darkness consumed my vision and the pain vanished.

Four Hours Later…

I woke up slowly.

How much time had passed I wasn't exactly sure, but the first thing I noticed was that the pain from before had melted into a strange tingling. It was mostly regulated to my right side but it was certainly more bearable than it was before. However, I did feel slight lightning shocks of pain in my shoulder and arm. Again, not unbearable, just enough to be noticed. What made me happy was that I could think more clearly, the pain now a background feeling now and the former ringing in my ears having been gone for some time.

I tried to open my eyes, the heavy feeling of them proving to be a great mental obstacle. When I managed to, my vision was blurry enough to where I could not tell great amounts of detail concerning my surroundings. However, I could make out that I was in a room with whitewashed walls and medical equipment. Plain, yet complicated at the same time. I had minorly noted it as an interesting contrast before I heard quite a bit of commotion.

I turned my head a little to my left, the direction in which all the noise was coming from, just before watching the very doors burst open.

A gurney was pushed into the room by two men in white lab coats, and they stopped it next to the other installed bed in the room. They didn't make any action to move the obvious new patient onto that bed, I couldn't make out any details since my sight and hearing had yet to fully come back to me.

"Well, Dr. Mindbender," The shorter of the two men in the white coats addressed the other one, "As an official diagnosis, at least seventy-percent of his body is covered in third-degree burns. In addition, there is a severe case of smoke inhalation and as a result of that, there is severe burn damage in his lungs. So severe that just from listening to him breathe, I'd believe that he also inhaled a bit of fire too."

"Dr. Pershing, can your people bring him back to a level of physical functionality?" The other man, Dr. Mindbender, asked coldly. So coldly that I felt chills from just hearing it and that made me glad that I couldn't see the man all that well, as I didn't want to see the expression that came with that tone.

"Y-yes," Dr. Pershing replied to Dr. Mindbender. "We can bring him back close to a level of mobility that he possessed before, but for his lungs, he will more than likely need a ventilator for the rest of his life."

A tense moment of silence passed between the two men until Dr. Pershing managed to speak up again.

"It's going to be a costly procedure, as you should know. The ventilator would have to be custom-made for it to be mobile and as out of the way as possible."

"The cost doesn't matter," Dr. Mindbender responded in that same cold tone. "McCullen says he's worth the investment. Now, how soon can surgery be prepped for him?"

"They need another forty minutes, they have only just gotten done with our other patient here in the Burn Unit."

I instantly closed my eyes, and I was lucky since it was just before I felt eyes on me, judging harshly with his cold logic.

"Who is she?"

"You know that assassin that's been making Interpol's lists? Wraith? That's his little girl, Sarah." Dr. Pershing replied, his voice holding an obvious fear of my father and this turned my thoughts to him. Something had happened to me and it was related to my father, but my memories were unclear. That feeling of being watched then disappeared and I let out a mental sigh of relief.

"How soon will he recover?" Dr. Mindbender asked Dr. Pershing, and by my best guess, Dr. Pershing's few moments of silence were dedicated to quick calculations.

"Approximating, a little over a year depending on how well his body responds to the treatments."

"That will do."

With that, I heard the doors open and I assumed Dr. Mindbender left the room. I opened my eyes to see Dr. Pershing running a hand through his greying hair.

"That man…" He turned to face me then and seeing me awake he sighed. "The anesthesia must have worn off… Sorry, you had to hear that Sarah, but Mindbender is an odd character. But right now you need some more rest, as your body is still getting over the shock of what you've been through in the past twenty-four hours."

The doctor easily found the syringe he was after, quick in finding a suitable vein in my left arm and injecting the sleep-inducing drug. My eyes drooped in that sudden tiredness before closing and sending my sight into darkness.

"We will talk more on your condition tomorrow."

Chapter Text

15 | 0820 | Z | OCT | 20

When I next woke up, it only took seconds for my sight to gain clarity.

My right shoulder and arm had this odd tingly and slightly numb feeling to them, but at the realization of the lack of stabbing pain, I gained the confidence to look over at it first. The entirety of my right arm was wrapped securely in a gauze, almost as stiff as an actual cast, but some sort of mechanical device was clamped over the gauze and kept my arm and shoulder in place. Immobile, only barely able to will my right side to move only a few centimeters in any direction as far as I could feel out and observe. I took in a few breaths to calm myself before the worst-case-scenarios overcame my mind. Once calmed down, I decided to look away from my right side and get a better idea of where I was.

I was definitely in a hospital, the room simply screamed it. White-on-white everything, the burning smell of sterilization, and the small beeps and whines of complicated machinery. Plain shelves held a variety of bottles that more than likely contained an equal variety in medicinal drugs. I could also see some bottom cabinets, as plain as the shelves, that were closed but I could guess that they held some handheld instruments that were more than likely highly sensitive. Also guessing from the machines that I was hooked up to, and judging their quality to the best of my amateur ability, that this hospital was not cheap and notably advanced.

Whatever had happened to me, my father definitely affected some part of it.

After all, there are dangers in being related to a rather infamous and most-wanted ranking assassin, but this time something bad had happened. Something really, really bad and I was still having trouble remembering exact details.

Just fire, then pain, and then darkness.

Deciding to now also avoid those memories for the time being, I focused on the other bed in the small room. If this was the burn unit, as I remember Dr. Pershing telling Dr. Mindbender… I shivered when I thought of the strange and cold man, but this burn unit was rather small to only have two beds as spaced as they were. There was another occupant in the room with me, I assumed the same man they brought in when I was awake last time, and he was covered head to toe in bandages. I couldn't see any inch of his skin, not even his face all too well, and he didn't have any hair peeking out from between the wraps around his head.

He seemed to be asleep, the rise and fall of his chest normal from what I could tell. It still had this wheezing quality to it, however, amplified by the ventilator mask attached to this large machine next to him. Looking down at the clipboard attached to the bedside on the metal rail, and squinting quite a bit, I managed to get a name.

Rexford G. Lewis.

Huh. It was a pretty unique name from my standards, having never heard the name 'Rexford' before. Definitely more unique than 'Sarah' anyway.

My thoughts were interrupted by Dr. Pershing bustling into the room, standing still for a minute between the two beds, his hands full of variously marked manilla folders. He glanced at Rexford first, seeing him asleep as well before looking over at me and seeing me wide awake. Seeing him properly as well, he was an older gentleman with his brown hair greying from the roots. He gave me a kind smile.

"Properly awake now, aren't we? I am Dr. Stephen Pershing and I will be your primary doctor as well as Dr. Lewis'.

Doctor Lewis? Apparently, there was much more to my roommate in the Burn Unit. I wondered what field he studied in for a brief moment before Dr. Pershing continued.

"Now Sarah, how much do you remember of the past twenty-four hours?"

It took me a minute to form words with my mouth, but when I did speak it was hoarse and it hurt a little to do so.

"Not a lot… mostly pain and burning sensations."

The doctor sighed, almost inaudibly, before giving me what I assume was a brief explanation of what had happened to me.

"You got caught in an explosion, because of what I'm afraid I don't have those details, and when you arrived you were in great pain and your right side was badly injured from both the explosion and a few pieces of shrapnel. You mostly sustained first and second-degree burns and low-levels of smoke inhalation, but your right shoulder blade took the worst of it."

He paused, as though hesitant to continue, but I gave him a calm look and from that, he continued.

"Your right scapula was in two pieces when you arrived, and we had to put in plates and screws to hold them together. It wasn't a complicated surgery, in fact, the break was surprisingly a clean one, but you will be required to wear a brace that should come in tomorrow morning twenty-four-seven. When your physical therapy starts, you will be allowed to take it off for short durations."

I nodded, wanting to ask him questions more on the topic of how I exactly ended up in this condition. However, I had the feeling that I would be directed to my father for those answers and contacting him was difficult at best.

"I will also be- oh, Dr. Lewis! Welcome back to the world of the living…"

I tuned out Dr. Pershing, rather subconsciously so, when I looked over and past him. My roommate in the Burn Unit had managed to turn his head to face us. Considering the sheer amount of bandages that had to have been used to wrap him up, it was impressive. Dr. Pershing kept talking, but he was muted to my ears as I locked eyes with Rexford G. Lewis.

His eyes were like that of a deep brown pit, swirling down into a dark void of intellectual coldness.

As the moment slowed for us, I saw a growing spark of interest in his gaze. It was impossible to look away, to not want to know what thoughts lied within his mind. A mind worth quite a bit to certain individuals if I remembered correctly. They then flicked to Dr. Pershing and I caught his drift before flowing with it.

"-Now let's establish a basic form of communication that should not be hard for you to accomplish. This way we will be preventing further damage to your throat and lungs. For now, blink once for yes and twice for no. Once your mobility improves, we will add more and when your throat more fully heals we will start speech therapy."

Rexford blinked once in understanding. Dr. Pershing nodded and then began a line of questioning.

"Dr. Lewis, do you remember what happened to you?"

One blink.

"Do you remember it in detail?"

One blink.

"The damage to your body is extensive Dr. Lewis, and to be honest with you I'm not even sure how you are still alive, much less how you survived initially."

For a moment, one singular moment, I swore I saw a gleam that spoke of hatred in his eyes. As quickly as I saw it though, it vanished as Dr. Pershing continued.

"Your physical therapy will be much harsher and longer, but since you are here with us I am sure you will persevere."

One blink.

"Starting at the beginning of next month, we will begin your hyperbaric oxygen therapy. This will speed up your recovery and, as we hope, repair at least sixty-percent of the fire damage to your lungs. The level of positive response to this method from your body will decide when we put you into low levels of proper physical therapy with careful monitoring. Is this agreeable with you Dr. Lewis?"

One blink.

Dr. Pershing gave a relieved smile, Rexford's cooperation seemed to take away some pressing source of anxiety, and he was about to say something else when the intercom went off.

"Dr. Pershing, you are required in the ICU immediately."

The doctor sighed lightly before standing up and giving both of us an apologetic look. "I shall check on the two of you tomorrow." And with that, he left the Burn Unit and the two of us to each other's company. I looked over back at Rexford and his eyes were already on me. Long moments passed between us, the silence speaking for us until I broke it with a question.

"Hey, do you prefer to be called 'Rex' instead of 'Rexford' or 'Dr. Lewis'?"

He blinked once, and I smiled in return.

Chapter Text

25 | 1000 | Z | DEC | 20

Two months passed, things were progressing in the way things did in these types of situations, slowly. At least, for Rex and I, things were slow. The Underground Hospital, on the other hand, was always bustling with activity. I was surprised at how such a busy hospital for highly paid and highly wanted criminals could remain hidden so well from the rest of the world. Well, actually, I was sure a few groups had basic knowledge of the existence of this place. They just had not proven that it, in fact, even existed.

For myself, those days had been filled with mostly staying in bed and the various treatments for my burns. My right shoulder had been left alone since only time and minimal movement would heal it better than any technology at this point. My throat had healed the fastest and already I could hold long conversations with little to no pain in speaking. A nurse had also been taking me on trips up and down the long hall that the Burn Unit sat at one end of. Dr. Pershing had recommended it two weeks into my stay here.

"It's a good place to start your physical therapy and we do not want to add muscle atrophy to your diagnosis." He had said, and since then I've been making the trip down the hall and back once a day. I was making excellent progress according to the nurse, though I was sure that nurses are required to say encouraging prognosis' to keep a patient from giving up. Either way, I was feeling better from the daily walks, despite that I would feel tired after each one but that became less so after a while, plus it got me out of the Burn Unit for a few minutes.

I don't claim that I am a terrible patient, which is true, however, I cannot sit still for long periods of time. It's not ADHD, I do enjoy a lazy day once in a while, but I can only be lazy for so long before I start getting anxious with the need to do something. That's mostly why these days I was eager to get back to what I loved most in the world: Writing. Unfortunately, I was right-handed and so writing was out of the question for now. Didn't stop me from thinking of ideas, but it bothered me since I could not put them down on paper.

For my roommate, his recovery was far more trying on him both mentally and physically. Hyperbaric Oxygen Therapy, more simply referred to as HBOT and as I learned from a friendly technician, it puts you in a full-body sealed and pressurized chamber where you are exposed to air that is one-hundred percent oxygen. You could be in there for an hour and a half to full two hours per session. This is to enhance your body's natural healing ability and has proven very successful over the past few years.

Rex had been going to these HBOT sessions quite frequently, I believe he's been close to forty sessions by now, and it's a process for sure. What I found extremely funny was the day he tried conveying to Dr. Pershing that he wanted to start walking to the room where his sessions took place. The first three weeks or so he had to be wheeled in and lifted into the chamber, but when he wanted to start using his own two feet to get there it put shock into Dr. Pershing's usually calm expression. At first, Rex was denied his request once it was properly translated, myself frequently referred to since I had been walking around with help for two weeks at that point.

In fact, I did most of the translating since I was better at reading him than our doctor or anyone else. This, I had no answer for at the time but it would not be until much later that I figured out why I could read him then.

The next day Dr. Pershing had come in with a changed mind, Rex was allowed to start re-learning to walk. So recently he's been walking to the chamber with the aid of the HBOT technician that's been overseeing his sessions. He had been very excited to be walking again, and his stride had been getting smoother and less gangly as he continued to do so. However, Dr. Pershing warned him that odds were against him at ever regaining one-hundred percent mobility of his limbs. Rex didn't care, he was satisfied that he could walk in general.

Just a few minutes ago, via gossiping chatter from the nurses, I learned that Rex's burn damage had overtaken a little over sixty-percent of his body and was mostly contained to his left side. They were sure that he wouldn't be able to walk again and were unsure of Dr. Pershing's willingness in letting him walk. That, and they were sure he would never be able to breathe on his own ever again even with the HBOT sessions. It was less then I had originally assumed, but still terrible all the same. My respect for his sheer willpower increased, as well as for his dedication that could be easily mistaken for sheer stubbornness. I was instantly reminded of something and I chuckled a little.

The door to the Burn Unit opened and my attention snapped to the three individuals who entered. First was Dr. Pershing, holding something under one arm but I couldn't tell what is was, and with the other he held the door for Rex and the HBOT technician. The technician helped Rex into the room guiding him to the bed, and when Rex was comfortable we briefly met gazes. Many of the bandages that were used to cover him from head-to-toe were gone now. What remained of them were on his left forearm and across his chest in a few places. They took off the ones wrapping his head two weeks ago, and it was quite the event.

His hair had been completely burned away, leaving him bald and Dr. Pershing had said that it won't ever grow back since the follicles were burned away as well. Drawing my attention were the metal plates on both upper sides of his head. Dr. Pershing was right. It was nothing short of a miracle that Rex had survived, that whatever he had gone through leaving him in this condition. Compared to Rex, I only came away with some minor scarring on my shoulder and even then it was mostly the surgical scar from putting in the plates and screws.

His right hand was holding onto an IV pole, from which an IV bag was hanging and it's thin tube that fed into his left arm. I saw that they switched the bag, the last one was nearly empty this morning, and I noticed that it was his prescribed painkillers. His left leg must've bothered him again today, like it often did. Moments after the technician left the room, leaving us with Dr. Pershing. He did not waste any time in giving us an updated prognosis on our conditions. He focused on Rex first, "Dr. Lewis, you'll be pleased to know that today was your last hyperbaric session." And indeed, Rex looked pleased as the doctor continued now holding up the object that he walked in with. "This is a portable ventilator device, specifically designed for you by MARS Industries and through the generosity of Mr. McCullen."

There was that name again, McCullen, and now I knew that McCullen was more than likely the individual running MARS Industries. MARS Industries sounded familiar, but I couldn't quite place it. I decided to focus on the ventilator that Dr. Pershing was now putting on Rex. It was like a version of a standard plastic medical ventilator, though looking more like a fifties microphone, and made with a dark chromed metal and had a similar metal tube that connected from the mask to another metal attachment at where the hollow of his throat was.

The upper part of the mask was padded with a black material, like soft leather but stretchable as Dr. Pershing hooked two straps to the metal plates on either side of his scalp, the choice of material was more than likely for his comfort so it wouldn't chafe on his skin. Looking down further, the lower part looked more like a tough rubber, definitely to keep it in place and from shifting wildly as he walked and cover the necessary wiring, small tubing, and his burn scars. Dr. Pershing then continued talking and I returned my focus on to him.

"This is to be secured around your neck, resting on your shoulders, it will cover your nose and mouth and will aid you tremendously in breathing regularly. The monocle here-" He now pointed the eyeglass piece, which was tinted a deep blue color, "Will aid you in the project Dr. Mindbender will be assigning you to as soon as you are cleared." He paused briefly, "I suggest taking your time with it and getting used to the slight differences. It is, of course, detachable as wearing it constantly will not be necessary."

The doctor double-checked the portable ventilator and once satisfied he took a step back. The mechanical breathing of the mask was quite prominent, but Rex didn't seem to mind it, so I was not really concerned about it either. Dr. Pershing then turned to me and said, "And some good news for you as well Sarah, since your brace comes off today. The bones have healed enough to where you don't need to constantly wear the brace. However, I still ask that you wear it at night so it remains in a neutral position so you don't accidentally cause unnecessary strain while sleeping."

I nodded in understanding and after he took it off I let it drop slowly and onto my lap. I didn't feel pain but I certainly felt the ache in the muscles that had gone unused for weeks. Otherwise, I was fine and had a wide smile on my face. Glancing at Rex, I saw the same smile in his eyes and I returned my gaze to Dr. Pershing as he then began to explain the next stage of our prognosis.

"You have both been cleared to start proper physical therapy, starting tomorrow at one o'clock in the afternoon." Rex and I nodded as the doctor continued with, "Our resident therapist Dr. Brian Cox will be overseeing the both of you and so I have to ask if you two would like to share sessions? This would make a majority of the scheduling easy as you would share most sessions with Dr. Cox, this would help psychologically as well. Group therapy helps heal the mind as well as the body and you both are healing from traumatic experiences."

Rex and I met gazes and a silent conversation passed between us in our silence. After a few long moments he nodded and I smiled in return. I turned back to Dr. Pershing and answered his question with, "We're both okay with that." This put a smaller smile on the doctor's face as he responded, "Excellent, I'll let Dr. Cox know both of you will be at the session." And he started to walk away, opening one of the doors of the Burn Unit, before suddenly pausing and turning around to look at Rex.

"I almost forgot, good thing I caught myself, but Rex I still require that you don't speak for another week or so. After that, I shall see about bringing in a speech therapist for you."

Glancing over at Rex I saw a frustrated look in his eyes but he nodded anyway. At this, Dr. Pershing also nodded and left the room. This was the most trying thing for him, not being able to speak to convey his meaning better. He then looked at me, his eyes then possessing something other than frustration, but I could not name it. I saw the lines of his face draw into the ones that told me he was smiling and I smiled back.

Despite our frustrations, we had each other, and that suited us perfectly.

Chapter Text

29 | 1700 | Z | DEC 20

Frustration, however, dogged our every step into the initial days of our physical therapy sessions.

Our sessions with Dr. Cox were always at around noon since the two of us usually slept late but this did not concern Dr. Pershing. He said it was a good sign of our recovery, that our bodies were taking advantage of the situation and getting all the rest they can get. The room in which we had our sessions was like a customized gym. White-washed walls and various exercise equipment, of which a lot of it looked custom built.

For myself, I could barely grip anything with my right hand and movement of my right arm, in general, was extremely limited. It didn't help that instinctually I tried to do things with my dominant hand and then realize that I wouldn't do things as well as I used to and pay the price with some pain and shakiness. Rex fared no better, and he had more to work on than I did. He was already attempting to walk on his own, Dr. Cox having decided to start him on that since he was already motivated to walk again. Progress was slow for both of us.

I still could not properly hold a pen.

Rex still could not walk a straight line.

Dr. Cox however still gave us what we call his signature smile. It was a calm, patient one and he always encouraged us with what little progress we could achieve. Another such session had recently ended, Rex assisted by the nurse that had been assigned to both of us. Her name was Ruby, a kind African-American woman, and while she got along well with me she was always nervous around Rex. I could guess why, as Rex no longer looked what people would call 'normal'. Pale, healed skin and even paler scars and the black respirator with its mechanical breathing definitely deterred 'normal' people.

Ruby helped Rex sit on his bed, and after a quick smile in my direction, she left. I stared at the door even after her departure for a few moments, then turned gaze to Rex. Apparently, he had also been staring at the door and our gazes matched at the same moment. I cracked a small smile at him before saying, "You do know you scare her right?"

My roommate simply shrugged, the smile beneath his respirator reaching his eyes. I raised an eyebrow. "I do know that you can't help it, but still. We don't need you scaring Ruby, she's nice enough."

Another shrug and I could only really sigh. Albeit exaggeratedly, so to keep that smile on his face. We both appreciated the kindness of Dr. Pershing and Dr. Cox, but as we discovered we found better support from each other. Rex and I better understood what we felt, the pain we suffered and now tried to heal from. So for the past few days, we would do little things either during of sessions behind Dr. Cox's back or when we were alone to entertain ourselves in the Burn Unit to bring our spirits up a little more. This did more than Dr. Cox's signature smile.

The door opened again and another nurse rolled in a cart. There were a few plastic trays on its shelves and I could see steam rising from them. The nurse smiled at us, though probably a little too brightly, and handed me a tray. She glanced at Rex briefly before reaching lower on the cart, coming back up with a stainless steel thermos and an odd looking straw of the same metal. The nurse left quickly and as quietly as she entered. Rex and I gave each other a questioning look before he lightly shrugged. I matched the shrug and a smile returned to his blue eyes.

"You going to want help with the straw?" I asked him, but he lightly shook his head. I gave him a nod and started on my lunch as he fiddled with a cap that was well hidden on his ventilator near the front. It came off with a faint hiss and quickly, but carefully, Rex slid the straw in and proceeded to intake his blended lunch. I made a gagging motion between two bites of my own lunch, almost making him choke a little but the creases of his smile around his eyes were worth it.

"How can you drink that stuff?" I could not imagine drinking blended versions of my three meals a day. I've never seen what it actually looks like, but the mere idea of it makes my spine shiver slightly. Rex shrugged again and tapped the side of the thermos. I raised an eyebrow as I replied, "I'm not sure that I could ever get used to drinking that stuff." Rex raised an eyebrow of his own and lightly gestured to my tray, the food now almost gone. I still had a fruit cup to eat, and I opened it and wielded a spork as I told my roommate, "At least I know what I am being served. You get a thermos full of a smoothie that could have god only knows what's in it!"

His shoulders shook as I finished up the remainder of my lunch, and it was hard for me not to outright laugh as well as I did so.

Then the lights went out.

It wasn't some dramatic powering down, but a slight series of flickers before shutting off entirely. I couldn't see anything, barely a few feet in front of me, and even Rex was a barely-detailed silhouette. My breathing began to quicken erratically and my anxiety levels shot up. I put a hand to my chest and tried to calm down, to think logically, but the panic of my instincts overruled my attempts.

Hands were on my shoulders then and I look up to find Rex's calm brown eyes staring into mine. I was nearly gasping for breath at this point and Rex then grabbed my hand and placed it on his chest, palm flat against it. I could feel the rise and fall of his chest as he breathed in and out. He did it slowly, evenly, and it took me a few moments to realize what he was doing. Eventually, my breathing pattern began to match his, slowing down and becoming almost as even as his.

After a few more minutes, it was as even as his and I felt calmer than I was.

Rex looked at me questioningly and I nodded. I was feeling better, but I knew I wouldn't be completely alright until there was a source of lighting again. My hopes were answered when a light shone from the edges of the double doors, and at this Rex put some distance between us and sat on his bed again. In the next moment, one of the doors opened to reveal Dr. Pershing, the lines of his face shadowed by the light of the two electric lanterns he had in hand. He looked at the two of us, relief plain on his face as he said, "I see you are both unshaken by the power outage-" I almost snorted but managed to hold it back as he then lifted the lantern in his left hand. Certainly, I had not been the definition of unaffected.

The doctor then finished with, "Until we get the power back, I'll leave you both with this lantern," before placing it on the nearest counter and then leaving hurriedly, presumably to check in on his other patients. An odd moment of silence stretched between myself and Rex before I was able to bring myself to meet Rex's gaze, which I felt on me once our doctor had left. Judging by the intelligence at work in his brown eyes, I knew that he had figured out the cause of my panic attack once the light had gone out.

To my surprise, Rex then held his arms out and I knew what he was offering. I accepted and in the next few moments, I was wrapped in his arms and feeling incredibly safe. When he leaned back to rest against the wall I was taken with him, leaning against his chest though carefully as I was not unmindful of his respiratory issues. The silence was now calm between us and I closed my eyes, feeling the lack of energy that my panic attack had taken.

"You never outgrew the fear of the dark?"

The voice was incredibly hoarse when it spoke, so quiet that I did not feel any vibration of his chest, and it had taken me a minute to realize that it was Rex who had spoken. I looked up at him in shock and then scolded him in a whisper, "You shouldn't be talking!"

The lines at the far corners of his eyes creased, letting me know that he was smiling as he replied, "As long as I don't speak above a whisper, I will be fine. Now," He shifted a little bit before continuing, "Why did you never outgrow a children's fear and let it develop into a phobia?"

I huffed at his choice of words, I was certainly no child after all, but after a moment I gave in and told him.

"My father is Wraith, the assassin who has been in the news recently. A lot of my younger childhood experiences were spent moving frequently and hiding in dark places. I was always scared when those times would happen and it was almost always at night."

Rex nodded, accepting my answer before asking, "Adrian Lacroix? Your father is the French assassin Interpol recently put on their list?"

"You know him?"

"Of him. I had read the newspapers before my… accident and ended up here. You don't sound French though."

I gave him a curious look but answered his question with, "That's because my mother raised me until I was five. She was British, and even after her death and my father taking over as my primary caregiver I've managed to somewhat keep my British accent."

He nodded again and when he was done I yawned, causing his shoulders to shake a little.

"Get yourself to bed, you need sleep after your panic attack."

I managed to do just that, slipping under the covers and shifting around until I was comfortable. Before sleep fully took me I mumbled to Rex, "Will you keep the light on?" then heard him shift on his bed.

"I will Sarah. I will."

"Thank you."

I fell asleep with a small smile on my face.

Chapter Text

03 | 1210 | Z | JAN | 21

As a very late Christmas present, Dr. Pershing had a desktop setup in the Burn Unit for us. Rex and I had given each other a confused look as the computer technician set it up. Once he left, Dr. Pershing walked in with another man in a formal business suit. He was taller than the doctor by several inches, taller than Mindbender if I recalled his height correctly. The doctor stood to the side as the man in the suit sat down, not even acknowledging us as he opened up a file and then started texting a long series of code. We waited in silence, the only noise the typing on the keyboard and Rex's ventilator.

After a few more minutes, the screen went black, then a dark grey and the image of three outlines of triangles locked together appeared in the middle, close to the top. It spun slowly as two black rectangles faded onto the screen. The man stood from the chair and gave a single nod to Dr. Pershing before he walked out of the Burn Unit as quietly as he entered. Dr. Pershing then cleared his throat, getting us to focus our attention on him.

"Dr. Lewis, Sarah, requests for communication with you have recently come in, and my superiors have decided to set up a computer here in the Burn Unit. The gentleman who was just here activated a program called Odin's Eye. This will allow you to communicate with others who have the program and it is the most secure network to date."

Rex's eyes lit up as he said hoarsely, "I remember hearing about it a year ago, didn't think it would go live this soon."

"My understanding is that they kept that part of the project secret, that way organizations such as the CIA, MI6, and Interpol would be left at a disadvantage and not catch on until Odin's Eye was already widely distributed."

Rex nodded, and I understood the reasoning behind it though it was not my prominent thought concerning the program.

"And who is requesting to talk to me?" I ask Dr. Pershing, and the doctor gave me a look like I should already know.

"Your father of course. He has been wanting to talk to you for a little over a week, but until now we have not had a secure way for him to talk to you and he is unable to come here himself."

I let out a sigh, a wave of slight disappointment going through my mind and my shoulders dropped as the loosened. Dr. Pershing wasn't going to say it, but I already knew the likely reason why he had not been able to come here. I was fully aware of what my father does as an assassin, even if he never told me the details. An assassin was an assassin, and it was not a career most would decide on for a living as it was an occupation riddled with danger from every angle. Having a family only makes it harder. Dr. Pershing looked like he was going to ask me something, but Rex interrupted him with his own question.

"And who requested communication with me?"

I glanced at him and gave him a grateful look, but I could tell in his eyes he had his own questions about my reaction. He wouldn't as them now though, and it was grateful for the extra time to think over things in my head. Specifically, the ones concerning my relationship with my father and the strains on it.

"Dr. Mindbender wished to pick at your brain," Our doctor answered Rex, "See if you are fit enough start training even during your therapy."

Another understanding nod and Dr. Pershing cleared his throat again before asking, "Which of you would like to go first? We have time before your therapy session begins this afternoon."

Rex and I looked at each other, and then he gestured towards the computer as our doctor went to a corner of the room for the foldable chair so one of us could sit in it. He had a devious look in his eyes as he said, "Ladies first."

I raised an eyebrow and replied, all the while putting more emphasis on my British accent, "I am no proper lady Dr. Lewis, whatever gave you such a notion?"

The skin at the corners of his eyes crinkled a little as he said, "I believe you talking to your father is of more importance than Dr. Mindbender's desire to pick at my brain."

I gave him a small smile, then told him, "Well then, since I'm going first I want you to stick around. No need to face my father alone."

This shocked Rex, his eyes wide and I could see his mind was trying to come up with an excuse, more than likely something along the lines of 'privacy' and 'family', but I held up my good hand, my left one, and stopped him from saying anything.

"You can stay Rex, and if my father doesn't like it… well," I smirked a little. "There's not anything he can do about it anyway."

With a careful nod and shoulders dropped, Rex relented and with a smile I stood up from my bed and walked over to the chair Dr. Pershing had set in front of the monitor. Sitting down, I stared at the opening screen before looking up at Dr. Pershing and asking, "What's the login?"

"Oh, right!" Dr. Pershing collected his thoughts for a moment, then told us, "The usernames are your initials and the year of your birth. Your passwords are your medical case numbers, which I have right here." He then pulled out two slips of paper from his breast pocket on his lab coat and held them up for us to see, after which he handed us our respective case numbers. I read the series of numbers on it and saw that it also included reminders for what our username was.

SL2003

9952802560

"I will leave you two to your conversations," Dr. Pershing then spoke up, making Rex and I refocus on the doctor as he continued with, "Ruby will be here in about twenty minutes or so to take whoever is ready for their physical therapy session." With that said and properly conveyed, our doctor left the room quietly and I looked down at my slip of paper again.

I then switched hands to hold the piece of paper with my right hand while I typed in my username and password with my left hand, as it was more steady than my right hand. Though more steady than my other hand, it was still a slow process typing in those things into the computer as I was not ambidextrous.

The screen then prompted me to press 'enter', and once I did so the bars with my username and password vanished and the three interlocked triangles slid down to the exact center of the screen and kept spinning as three dots below it appeared one by one before vanishing, and then faded in again and repeated the process. This lasted for about a minute before a new page appeared on the screen. The far left of the screen was separated into three categories: CONTACTS taking up the top part, MESSAGE THREADS in the middle segment, and MEMORY LOG at the very bottom. The first two I understood their purpose, and I assumed the memory log was to keep track of dates and times for reasons I was unaware of. The entire right of that, however, was empty space.

Looking back at the contacts section though, I saw only one username: AL1983. I knew for certain who it was referring to, even if I hadn't already been told that he wanted to talk to me.

Adrian Lacroix, born 1983.

Using the mouse that came with the monitor, I selected my father's username, and a box popped open. Three choices faded onto the dark background of the box: CHAT, VOICE, and VIDEO. With a little hesitation, I selected VIDEO. The selection box faded and that black space on the main page blackened. The three interconnected triangles faded into view in the exact center of that space and spun just as slowly as the opening screen. I took this for it thinking and trying to connect to the other end of the secure line. I relaxed back into the chair in the meantime, and I shot Rex a smile over my shoulder. The creases in the corner of his eyes crinkled in the sign that let me know he was smiling back and his body language conveyed reassurance to me.

"Sarah?"

It was a low-toned voice that spoke opposite from where I was looking, and my mind quickly figured that it came from the speakers of the monitor. My eyes widened and my head whipped around to see my father's face on the screen. Light hair cut short, the constant stubble on his lower face, and the same dark-green eyes that I had stared back at me. A small smile slipped onto his features as he then asked me, "Sarah, je vois que tu te débrouilles bien?"

Sarah, I see you are doing well for yourself?

Now, before anyone makes any assumptions, my father possesses no exaggerated French accent. Adrian Lacroix's French is a 'proper European French', as my grandfather frequently liked to boast about the Lacroix family. Subdued, a little airy, and rhythmic with being melodic. The nasal sound is still there with certain words, but none of the ridiculousness that Americans like to show in movies and television.

"Assez bien papa," I replied to him in French as well, "Mais que s'est-il passé?"

Quite well papa, but what happened?

This drew out a heavy sigh from the assassin, and with great hesitance, he told me in a measured tone. From that alone, I knew he wasn't going to tell me everything, but at this point in time, I was willing to listen to what he would say about it.

"It was a bomb," He then said plainly and in English, and my eyes grew wide as he continued. "It was meant for me, a trap set up by a rival assassin but…" His voice then choked a little on his words, "But you got home first."

I shut my eyes tightly, flashbacks taking me back to that evening.

A barely audible beeping noise that started going faster.

A sudden explosion of light and sound.

Fire… fire everywhere and pain that was excruciating!

Hands were then on my shoulders, a firm grip and once I realized who it was I relaxed under the grip. I opened my eyes carefully, my eyes locking onto my father's. He had a concerned expression on his face, and I could tell that his mind was at least going a thousand miles an hour, rapidly going through his thoughts and then… a light went off and I could see it in his eyes. All this, and in a matter of mere seconds. But then, he broke his gaze from me and to the man who brought me out of my flashback.

"Sarah… qui est-il?"

Sarah… who is he?

I did not like how overprotective his tone was, and I frowned in response.

"This is Rex," I told him in English, refusing to let Rex be removed from the conversation like that. "He's my friend papa, and he has worse burn injuries than I do."

Through his hands on my shoulders, I felt my friend flinch, but it was so slight I was almost doubtful that it actually happened. My father's gaze returned to mine and held it steady for long moments until he sighed again. He was going to drop the subject, knowing that it would turn into a fight between us and I could see that by requesting to talk to me here in the Underground that he didn't want that to occur during this conversation. However, I could also see that he wasn't going to let it go permanently. The perils of his career I supposed, never trusting a soul and always paranoid. I knew for a fact that it also extended towards his parenting skills.

After a minute of just silence, and I say silence loosely since Rex's ventilator constantly made very notable mechanical breathing sounds, I took in a deep breath and asked a question I dreaded to ask my father.

"What's keeping you from visiting in person papa?"

He went very still, and I sighed lightly but I wanted him to say it, and after a moment he did.

"Je suis à la chasse, mon trésor," He replied quietly, telling me the lie he had told me when I was a young child. "Il faudra du temps avant que je puisse venir te voir en personne."

I'm out hunting, my treasure. It will be some time before I can come see you in person.

"Et quand cela sera-t-il?"

And when will that be?

At that, his face hardened like a stone statue and his eyes were cold.

"Quand mon rival meurt, regrettant le jour où il a entendu mon nom."

After my rival dies regretting the day he ever heard my name.

My gaze narrowed and, after a quick look around the video section of the screen, I found the end call button. After a long sigh, I said quietly, "Au revoir, papa," and ended the call.

Goodbye, Papa.

I leaned back in the chair, releasing another sigh, and closed my eyes briefly before opening them to look up at Rex. He had an incredibly concerned look on his face and his hands remained on my shoulders. I gave him a half-hearted smile, the stress from talking with my father preventing me from giving my friend a proper one. His eyes flicked to the blank video screen, then back at me and he said lightly, "Your father is an intimidating man, Sarah."

Rex was definitely smiling underneath his ventilator, and my smile widened a little more as I replied with, "He's like that with everyone."

He shook his head. "You seem to be the exception."

I raised an eyebrow slightly, "I like to think he's less so because I'm family, but you didn't seem intimidated at all by him."

Rex chuckled, as hoarse as it was, then said, "That is because I am a very hard man to intimidate."

"Sure thing, Darth Vader."

He raised a non-existent eyebrow at the reference, but he was also trying very hard to not lose his composure at the same time. I had a very wide smile on my face when Ruby walked into the room. She looked between the two of us before clearing her throat to get our attention. When it was hers, she then asked us, "Have you decided which of you will visit Dr. Cox first?"

Rex answered for me as he nodded, "Sarah will, she just finished her call and I have yet to make mine."

Both of us noticed the shiver that went down Ruby's spine, no matter how hard she tried to suppress it when Rex spoke. Neither of us commented on it though when Ruby gave a quick nod.

"Alright then. Sarah, I'll be waiting outside for you." She said this quickly before leaving the Burn Unit, and afterward, Rex and I gave each other a glance. We both shrugged, and I logged off of Odin's Eye so Rex could use it with his login. I relinquished the chair to him, and put a hand on his shoulder before saying, "Here's hoping that your conversation with Dr. Mindbender goes better than mine was with my father."

"We'll see," Rex chuckled before waving me off to physical therapy.

When I returned forty minutes later, Rex had a sour expression and was logged off of Odin's Eye.

I raised an eyebrow as I walked over to him, Ruby waiting outside, and I said to him, "I'm going to guess that your conversation with Dr. Mindbender did not go well?"

Rex straightened his back and let out a long exhale before looking at me, then gave a slight shake of his head. "Nothing dramatic, just a minor dispute over precise calculations."

My eyebrow raised further.

"You argued over math?"

He nodded, and I could only sigh.

"I will never understand how people can like math, much less argue about it…"

My friend chuckled, and he looked happy as I helped him up and then walk through the hospital hallways to his physical therapy session. At the very least, we had each other to be there for even if no one else really was.

Chapter Text

09 | 1330 | Z | JAN | 21

A month later found Rex and I sitting in the Patient Common Area of the Underground Hospital. It was a spacious area, a small cafeteria on the east side and long tables with benches for seats with some plain plastic-on-metal chairs at round tables. There were snack and drink vending machines against a wall too, a popular stop for both staff and patients. That side was a drab grey-colored theme and not incredibly inviting.

The west side, however, the side that took up the most space, was a little more so. There had been a dominant grey color on the walls and the carpet, but there were landscape paintings hanging up and about half of the cushioned chairs were a deep red while the other half were a lighter grey color than the floor and walls. It was an interesting series of choices on the designer's part, to say the least.

It had been an hour since our last physical therapy session and Dr. Pershing had given us an improved prognosis'. We could tell for ourselves as this month came to a close, impressive progress had been made by both of us.

With his improving posture, Rex's gait has become smoother and straighter, but not quite as the average man. After over a month of working with a speech therapist, spending more time talking instead of using gestures his overall body language and his voice no longer sounded as hoarse as it did early on. Sadly, according to both Dr. Pershing and the speech therapist, Rex would never lose that raspy edge to his voice, and because of the accident, his throat had been severely damaged by the smoke and fire, leaving him scarred.

I had given Rex a worried look, but he gave me one that said he wasn't upset by the prognosis. He hadn't expected to return to what he looked like before his accident at all.

Concerning myself, it was getting easier to maintain a grip on a pen with my right hand, writing for longer periods of time. My shoulder would go stiff often if I kept it in a position for too long, and it would start to hurt if I got too stressed in a situation. The exercises Dr. Cox had given me to do helped with that, as did the normal over-the-counter painkillers, and I had been off the prescription ones for over a week now. Everything was going well for Rex and me, and it felt good to finally be seeing real, noticeable progress.

But now we were relaxing as Rex and I sat across from each other at the end of one of the long tables. Well, one of us was relaxing anyway and I was damn sure that Rex had a smirk under that mask of his and he definitely had a smug look in his eyes.

I was regretting that I ever agreed to play chess with him.

Sighing, I looked at where our pieces currently were on the board, his white, mine black, and I tried to figure out what he was doing and how I could counter what he might do.

It started out with his pawn from E2 to E4. I countered with my pawn E7 to E5. His next move was his bishop from F1 to C4, and mine was my knight from G8 to F6. Rex then moved his queen from D1 diagonally to H5. And now, it was my move and I stared at the board like it was going to give me an answer anytime soon. Another sigh and I moved my other knight from B8 to C6. I looked up at Rex, seeing if I made a right move and I hoped I could finally make him nervous about potentially losing a game to me.

It looked like my winning streak would never have a beginning as there was a very victorious look in his brown eyes. Rex then calmly picked up his queen and said, "Queen to F7," placed it on the intended white square and returned his gaze to me. "And checkmate."

"Why are you so good at this?" I groaned, leaning back in my chair and throwing my left arm over my eyes.

"Practice Lefty," He chuckled, calling me by the nickname he decided to give me after I called him Darth Vader. He said it was because of all the times I've complained about having to write with my non-dominant hand. "And years of practice."

"How many moves was it this time, Darth Vader?" I asked rhetorically, but he answered anyway.

"Four."

I lifted my arm and gave him an incredulous look.

"Four? Four moves and you had me in checkmate?!"

Rex shrugged lightly. "I already told you," He then leaned back in his chair as well. "Years of practice and studying strategies will get you as good as I am."

"No thank you," I replied as I shook my head. "I would much prefer to spend that time writing and publishing books than dedicate it to studying chess."

"I probably shouldn't tell you then that chess is a game based on mathematical strategy."

I could hear the smirk in his tone as I buried my face in my hands, being more careful with my right hand.

"Damn you, Rex, just... damn you."

His laugh was hoarse, a little wheezy too, but it was nice sound to hear from him. Rex needed to laugh more often, and quite frankly so did I. I looked up from my hands after a few moments, and in my peripheral vision to my left, I saw a few eyes on us. Sighing internally, I knew why they were looking at us with expressions such as shock, morbid curiosity, and sometimes barely hidden disgust. This was the seventh time Rex and I had made an appearance in the Common Area and I was seriously wondering why people weren't over how Rex looked already. It wasn't just the other patients either, as I've caught the staff staring too at times.

Speaking of which, there goes a nurse suddenly turning her head away the moment I make eye-contact with her.

"Sarah."

He caught me looking at the people staring... again. My eyes met his and while his expression was neutral, his eyes told me he was concerned.

"Stop worrying about it."

My shoulder dropped.

"Can't help it," I told him in a quiet tone, "It bothers me that they stare at you the way they do. You don't deserve those looks, especially when they don't know anything."

He tilted his head slightly to one side as he then said, "It's because they don't know anything about me that they stare." After a moment, Rex sighed lightly and held out his hand across the table. I looked between his hand and his face, but moments later I put out my right hand on instinct. My eyes widened a bit and I just began to pull it away to switch it with my good hand when his hand snatched mine in its grasp. Rex held my hand gently, resting both on the surface of the table before using his thumb to slowly rub the back of my hand.

The action was calming, and when I looked up at him he had a calm look in his eyes as he then spoke in a soft tone. "The last thing you need to worry about is how the staff and patients stare at me. It's not going to change anytime soon, and once I am discharged the world outside these walls won't behave much different other than maybe a few people will blatantly say something. I'm not offended by their ignorance Sarah, and besides…"

His smile reached his eyes.

"I have you for a-"

"Sarah Lacroix?"

A male nurse called out my name from the main entrance, and Rex's hand slipped from mine. As the nurse started walking over here, I missed the feeling of my hand in Rex's.

"You have a visitor today, Miss Lacroix," The man said, whose name tag read 'James Baker' once he reached the table. I raised an eyebrow and asked, "I have a visitor? Who is…" Suddenly, I noticed another man next to the nurse and instantly recognized him.

My father, was here in person, standing right there in front of me.

James Baker looked between the two of us, reading the silence and the shock. "I'll leave you both to talk," He mildly said before taking his leave. After another minute, Adrian Lacroix let a small smile reveal itself on his features, a contrast to his strict militaristic posture.

"Sarah ... tu as l'air bien."

Sarah… you look well.

I gave him a small smile back as I stood up from the bench, saying, "Je me sens vraiment mieux."

I'm definitely feeling better.

Standing in front of him now, I looked up at him and then asked him calmly, "Et ta chasse?"

And your hunt?

Shoulders dropped a little, a sign of relaxation.

"Plus de. Mon temps est maintenant à vous, mon trésor."

Over. My time is now yours, my treasure.

It was the same lie he would tell me after one of his outings, too. I knew it wouldn't be too long before he left on another contract, but I let my smile widen and closed the distance between us with a hug. He hugged me back, and I tried to not let the tension I was feeling show by keeping as relaxed as I could be. After we parted, I looked to my left to see Rex watching the interaction between myself and my father. I then took a step back and lightly gestured to Rex, who stood as I said, " Papa, allow me to introduce you to my friend Rex again."

Rex, as I gleaned from his medical sheet that was attached to the side of his bed in the Burn Unit, stood at a height of one-point-seven meters. Adrian Lacroix stood at one-point-eight, a few inches taller but this didn't faze Rex as he matched gazes with my father. Neither man made a move to offer their hand in a friendly shake, but nor did they do anything to antagonize the other. I let out an audible sigh, catching the attention of both men and I felt a little dwarfed by them, considering my own one-point-six meter stature. I gave a quick smile to Rex before looking at my father again and then asking him in a serious tone, "I'm sure you came here for a reason other than just to visit me, so what is it?"

I saw that this took him aback, but he regained his stern composure just as quickly as I noticed the lapse.

"I'm taking you home Sarah."

"You're taking me home, when?!"

"Tomorrow." He said lightly.

Now, this gave me pause and my eyes widened. I saw that Rex had gone unnervingly still too.

"What?" I blatantly asked, and my father took an inward breath.

"Dr. Pershing has told me your most recent prognosis, and has agreed to discharge you into my care tomorrow afternoon."

"I…"

I didn't know what I could say to a statement like that. Glancing at Rex, I saw the small signs of him becoming upset and his refusal to show it in a public area. I was upset about leaving him here in the Underground, but I also knew that I couldn't stay forever. At seventeen, I had little say over my discharge as I was not a legal adult. Not for another year anyway. I took in a deep breath, swallowing any complaints and just nodded.

"Okay, papa. I'll be ready to leave before then."

My father nodded, and after a faint nod to Rex, he turned sharply and began to leave the Common Area. However, he stopped a few meters away and looked at me from over his shoulder.

"Tu sais toujours que je t'aime, n'est-ce pas Sarah?

You still know I love you, don't you Sarah?

My shoulders dropped. He had definitely noticed my tension.

"Je sais, papa."

I know, papa.

And with a small smile, Adrian Lacroix continued on his way and left the Patient Common Area. Looking at Rex out of the corner of my eye as I watched my father leave, I knew from his expression that he was going to ask me some serious questions later. When later came, it was after he beat me at chess a few more times and the two of us again in the Burn Unit. We were both sitting on his bed, both guard rails lowered to their fullest. His right arm was wrapped around me and my head on the corresponding shoulder. With my right hand, I had his right hand in its grasp and going over his in a sort of massaging movement. I watched my fingers and they went over his knuckles and the back of his hand, exploring every healed inch.

"I don't want to leave," I then quietly said aloud to him, "I don't want to leave you here to go through the rest of your recovery alone."

I heard Rex sigh, made deeper by the mechanical exhale of his ventilator.

"But you also know that you can't stay here," he reminded me just as quietly. "As long as you continue the exercises that Dr. Cox has given you on your own no one will really tell that you had a severe injury to your shoulder. As for myself… I still have about a year or so before I will be greenlit for discharge."

He then let out a hoarse chuckle.

"Besides, I will be giving you my identification for Odin's Eye so it won't be impossible for us to keep in contact once your father takes you with him tomorrow afternoon."

Unfortunately, his attempt to cheer me up didn't work too well, and I only leaned further into him and sighed deeply. This began the start of a long time of silence between us. We simply just kept each other close, basking in the comfort and reassurance that we decided not to say with words. I was going to miss this, as I knew that this was a level of trust that I would never reach with my father-

"Sarah?"

Rex's voice with its light rasp interrupted my drifting thoughts, and thankfully so.

"Yes?"

"We are… friends, right?"

My eyes widened, shocked that he would ask a question that he should have already known the answer to. I sit up straight so I could look at him properly, but I wasn't prepared for the level of pain in his eyes. They were wide, his pupils dilated, and for the first his expression was… unsure. I had never seen my friend unsure of himself before. My expression softened and I gave him a reassuring smile.

"Of course we're friends Rex, what makes you ask a question like that?"

This caused him to take a deeper intake from his ventilator, almost shaky if I believed what my ears were hearing.

"I lost my ability to trust people after my accident," He said quietly, barely above the mechanical sounds of his ventilator. "I was in that accident because someone I had trusted betrayed me. He had also left me behind to pull myself out of the wreckage, and I…"

He took in a far more audible shaky breath, but he maintained eye contact with me.

"I have not been able to trust anyone after that experience."

I raised an eyebrow slightly, then asked him, "So what am I then?"

The creases at the corners of his eyes crinkled.

"You seem to have made yourself the exception."

This brought an honest smile to my lips, and I saw that it made his own grow wider. Then, and very suddenly, an idea came to my mind. I then raised my right hand and held it out to him slightly, like someone would for a handshake. Rex glanced between my hand and myself, and his tone was confused as he asked me, "What is this?"

"A promise," I told him, "As the exception to your not trusting anyone, I'm going to make a promise to you." His eyes widened as I continued in a sure and confident tone. "I promise to you that, no matter what may happen in our future, I won't abandon you. No matter what happens, I'll be here for you as a true friend should."

It was obvious that this had taken Rex aback, and again he glanced between my offered hand and my face. After a few uncertain moments, he reached out with his right hand and grasped mine in the tightest grip he could manage. And then suddenly, Rex wrapped his free arm around my back and pulled me into a hug, still keeping my right hand in his grip. The sounds of his ventilator were next to my left ear, and I heard his words clearly through that noise.

"Thank you, Sarah."

He sounded a little breathless, almost like he couldn't believe that I made such a promise. I hugged him back with my free arm, resting my head against his shoulder again.

"And I'll make that same promise to you," He continued, "No matter what, I'll be there for you as a true friend should be." Rex's hug tightened, and I reciprocated.

"Never will I abandon you, Sarah. Never."

Chapter Text

04 | 1801 | B | MAR | 21

Two months later, in my grandfather's chateau, I was sitting on a lounge chair in the sunroom with a cup of coffee next to me on an end table. My grandfather, Gerard Lacroix, sat across from me in his favorite chair with this morning's newspaper in hand.

My arrival had been sudden. I had thought that my father would take us to another one of his safe houses, but within hours we were pulling up to Chateau Lacroix. It had been as much a shock to the staff and my Grandfather as it was for me. I hadn't seen him since I was five, and seeing him again over ten years later left us both stunned. It didn't help that my father left as soon as I had stepped out of the car. He didn't give me, and consequently his father, a proper explanation. Not that he needed to, we both had a good idea as to why and it left us both angry. It became a point of bonding for us in the beginning, a place to start despite the uncertainty we had of one another.

Not only that, but it had also been two months since I last properly talked to Rex. All I knew was that he had been released from the Underground Hospital a few days ago. But that was it, and I really had been missing the conversations we had when I was still hospitalized. Unfortunately, we had both been busy. Him with his job and me adapting to an entirely new home and lifestyle. Still though...

I must have frowned a little, or at least enough for my grandfather to notice and lower his newspaper in order to see me properly.

"Est-ce que tout va bien, Sarah?"

Is everything alright, Sarah?

He once had the same light-blond hair my father has, but it had been grey for the past ten years. It was still as short as I remember first seeing it, swept back in a simple style away from his large, round face. His wrinkles were well defined on his face, and he had the same dark-green eyes as I and my father did. Something he claimed had run in the family since its founding.

I was slightly startled when he suddenly asked the question, but I caught myself and nodded as I replied, "Je vais bien, ce n'est qu'un petit ajustement dans la vie ici."

I'm alright, it's just been a bit of an adjustment in living here.

"Et ce serait," My grandfather huffed, "Adrian vous amène ici un moment et quitte la suivante."

And it would be, Adrian bringing you here one moment and leaving the next.

"Ce n'était pas si mal, grand-père," I said with a small smile, "Au moins il m'a laissé avec toi."

It wasn't all bad, Grandpa, at least he left me with you.

My grandfather just stared at me, and slowly his eyes became a little misty and it seemed like he was seeing someone else in my stead. I had a good idea of who.

"Tout comme votre mère, voir le côté plus clair des choses." He said with a smile of his own, "Un peu trop pardonner les autres parfois, mais c'est peut-être une bonne chose."

Just like your mother, seeing the brighter side of things. A little too forgiving of others sometimes, but perhaps that is a good thing.

However, that smile faded quickly when he then said, "Mais ton père n'est pas un homme, car aucun homme n'abandonnerait son enfant pour poursuivre continuellement sa propre soif de sang."

But your father is no man, as no man would give up his child to continually pursue his own bloodlust.

I was not surprised by his incredibly harsh words about my father. The two men had been on opposites sides as long as I could remember, and it stretched long before even then. Gerard Lacroix had been an assassin as well, but a legal one and trained by the government. It became his career, and it influenced my father to become the same: an assassin. However, he took a much darker path with it and it put heavy strains between them. The final straw had been my mother, who had been the daughter my grandfather never had, and her death was still painful for him.

There had been a brief custody battle over me, my father winning through not very legal methods. Spending the most time in years with my grandfather recently, however… it got me thinking that maybe my father only fought to win custody of me just to spite my grandfather. I had to wonder why he would leave me with my grandfather now, over ten years later.

There was a knock on the frame of the door that led to the hallway outside. My grandfather and I looked up to see Armand, my grandfather's butler, standing there with a neutral expression on his face.

"Mademoiselle Sarah," He briefly greeted me before focusing on my grandfather, "Comté Lacroix, votre rendez-vous est là."

Mademoiselle Sarah. Comté Lacroix, your appointment is here.

Another thing that ran in the family: the title of Comté.

The Lacroix family was one of the few who survived the various revolutions and both world wars. Though my father's family had managed to keep the title, which dated back to the old aristocracy, what remained of the lands the Lacroix's once owned was this very chateau, its immediate grounds, and some staff.

"Rendez-vous?" I gave my grandfather a confused look, and looking back at me he had a calm expression.

Appointment?

He gave me a reassuring smile, but it did not reach his eyes. There was a sadness in his eyes, and a pit started to form in my stomach. He didn't look at Armand as he then said, "Envoyez-le dedans."

Send him in.

Armand gave my grandfather a brief bow before leaving to bring in whoever it was my grandfather had an appointment with. Only a few minutes passed before Armand returned with a man with blue eyes who might have been in his late thirties, around my father's age. In his black hair, there was salt and peppering to it, suggesting that he was older than my assumption. He wore a sharp-looking suit, clean, crisp, and his entire demeanor spoke of a true professional in his field. There was a dark-brown briefcase in his left hand, and he offered his right to my grandfather, who stood to greet him.

"Comté Lacroix," He said with a wide smile, "C'est un plaisir d'être invité à nouveau dans votre belle maison."

Comté Lacroix, it's a pleasure to be invited to your lovely home once again.

"Un plaisir de retrouver votre entreprise." My grandfather replied, a smile on his face as well. "Puis-je présenter ma petite-fille, Sarah?"

A pleasure to have your company again. May I introduce to my granddaughter, Sarah?

The man looked at me, smile still there, and I gave him a polite one in return. He then released my grandfather's hand to reach for mine, which I accepted.

"Un plaisir de faire enfin votre connaissance, Mademoiselle Sarah. Le Comté m'a beaucoup parlé de son petit-fils préféré."

A pleasure to finally make your acquaintance, Mademoiselle Sarah. The Comté has told me much about his favorite grandchild.

"Son seul petit-fils," I replied, my smile turning wry, "Mais ton compliment est accepté quand même."

His only grandchild, but your compliment is accepted anyway.

He chuckled, then properly introduced himself as he let go of my hand. "Je m'appelle Mickael Augustin, je représente votre famille depuis vingt ans."

My name is Mickael Augustin, I've been representing your family for twenty years.

Representing? I looked at my grandfather for confirmation, and he nodded.

"Monsieur Augustin est un avocat, et Monsieur, si vous voulez prendre place, nous allons commencer."

Monsieur Augustin is a lawyer, and Monsieur if you would like to take a seat we shall get started.

Monsieur Augustin took a seat, and my grandfather returned to his, as I then asked, "Commencez par quoi?"

Get started on what?

My grandfather and Monsieur Augustin gave each other a look, and it was Monsieur Augustin who answered my question.

"Nous allons passer en revue votre héritage et nous assurer que tout est en ordre."

We're going to go over your inheritance and make sure everything's in order.

"Mon héritage?"

My inheritance?

I was thoroughly confused, and my grandfather took it upon himself to elaborate further.

"Monsieur Augustin et moi avons discuté le mois dernier de ma volonté et à qui tout ira." He told me calmly, "Je déshérite ton père Sarah, et je te laisse tout."

Monsieur Augustin and I have been talking over the past month concerning my will and to whom things will go to. I am disinheriting your father Sarah, and I am leaving you everything.

My eyes widened, and unconsciously shook my head as I replied in disbelief, "Comment est-ce que je peux même être considéré comme héritant ... N'avez-vous pas d'autres parents plus proches que moi? Des frères et sœurs qui vous connaissent mieux que moi?

How am I even able to be considered to inherit… Don't you have other relatives more closely related than I am? Siblings who know you better than I do?

"Je ne."

I do not.

My grandfather's tone was firm, and my expression of shock only grew more pronounced.

"Que voulez-vous dire?"

What do you mean?

My grandfather sighed. "Mon frère aîné est mort pendant la Seconde Guerre mondiale et ma sœur aînée est morte en bas âge. J'étais le seul enfant de mes parents à survivre. Adrian n'héritera pas pour des raisons que vous connaissez déjà et sera déshérité dans mon testament." Then, his eyes looked almost pleading. "Je veux que tu hérites de Sarah et je veux que tu aies quelque chose quand je serai parti."

My older brother died in the Second World War and my older sister died in infancy. I was the only child of my parents to survive. Adrian will not be inheriting for reasons you already know and will be disinherited in my last will and testament. I want you to inherit Sarah, and I want you to have something when I'm gone.

I stared at him, unable to come up with any kind of reply. The room fell into silence, and eventually, my grandfather and Monsieur Augustin started talking the details of the will. I went back to reading my book, a confused and sad expression on my face. As I read, I couldn't focus on the words in front of me and I didn't know what to think.

I didn't know what to do.

Later…

I sat in the large chair in my grandfather's study, staring at the open Odin's Eye program in front of me. Staring at the monitor, I glanced down at the clock. 8:45 at night. Looking away, I then focused on the only other username in my contacts list.

RL1999

My hand was hesitant on the mouse, the pointer wavering on his username. A second later though, a video-chat request appeared from him. I accepted it immediately and a smile had formed on my face as his own appeared on the monitor. After two months of not seeing him, I instantly noticed the new things about my friend.

I didn't speak for a second, and with a slow raising eyebrow I said, "I didn't think you'd take the Darth Vader look so... seriously."

Rex wore a dark coat, rather different than the plain and uncomfortable patient clothes. He had black hair now, and I knew it was fake. It was fairly obvious and it looked a little unkempt. However, it looked late for him so I thought nothing of that detail. A small chuckle made its way out from his ventilator.

"Didn't want to disappoint you."

"A shame I'm disappointed easily, but I have to say, I'm rather impressed with the dedication."

"What can I say, I'm an overachiever in all aspects."

"Not just in highly specific mathematical equations?" It was my turn to chuckle. The intelligence in his eyes had a sharper gleam to them as he reminded me of one thing.

"Chess too."

I grinned. "I will defeat you one day Darth Vader." My words, though threatening, were said lightly.

"If you feel free to fail, then go right ahead Lefty."

"You mean when," My grin widened. "One day my failing streak will break."

The laughter between us vanished after a few seconds, however, and we both took to inspecting the other. He spoke first.

"So tell me the truth, how are you doing really?"

I bit my lip a little. Damn his perceptiveness. I then sighed and simply told him knowing that I couldn't deceive him. No, Rex and I had gone through a lot and I knew I could trust him with anything.

"There was a meeting a few hours ago between my grandfather and the family lawyer, Monsieur Augustin. It left me rattled."

"I can see that. What happened?"

I looked down from him, uncertainty overcoming me as I remembered the long meeting.

"Sarah?"

"My grandfather wants to give me the inheritance," I just blurted it out, looking up at him a little more. "The estate, the money, his title, everything."

His tense shoulders lowered and his expression seemed a bit relieved. "What's so wrong with that? Most people dream of all those things, and you're getting it after just signing a few papers."

I looked up fully now, giving him a weak glare. "This is the longest I've ever been in the same place as my grandfather, and I barely saw him when I was a child. It's just… it's just very unexpected to be handed something like this only after two months of living with him."

"I think it's his way of telling you he's making up for lost time," Rex then suggested, "Time your father took from you and him. Don't blame the man for trying to pamper his granddaughter, you deserve a little pampering Sarah."

I raised my eyebrow again. "Words of wisdom, Darth Vader?"

In truth, it did make me feel better about the whole situation. Rex made it look not so bad, despite how shocking it was and still is. It would just be some time before I actually got used the idea that I was to inherit everything my grandfather wanted to give me.

"Another one of my many skills… so should I call you Comtesse from now on?"

"No." My glare returned. "Don't you dare."

Rex raised his hands in reply. "Understood ma'am."

"Do you want me to hurt you?"

"Only a little." He winked at me.

"Imbécile."

Idiot.

"Was that a compliment?"

"Take it as you will."

Rex chuckled again, but became serious as he then asked, "How are you inheriting everything from your grandfather? What about your father? Isn't France male-preference primogeniture with inheritance laws?"

I nodded. "With inheriting noble titles it is, and my father would be first in line for it. However, my grandfather is disinheriting him in his will, along with a detailed memorandum stating why so the disinheritance sticks. The title doesn't mean anything to the law, but it still does in aristocratic social circles."

"And disinheriting your father doesn't also disinherit you?"

"No, my grandfather and Monsieur Augustin carefully and specifically worded it so I would inherit and so my father couldn't contest it."

After a moment, Rex nodded and a concerned look appeared on his face. "Are you going to be okay, Sarah?"

I hesitated, but then slowly nodded. "I think I will be, and this won't be revisited for a long time hopefully."

From the look in his eyes, Rex knew what I actually meant without my saying it. That the inheritance wouldn't be a concern again until my grandfather's death. In wanting to change the subject I then suddenly asked him, "So what have you been up to lately? Something must have prompted your wardrobe change."

"As a matter of fact, something did happen recently."

There was a sudden excitement in his eyes, and I had to know. "Come on Rex, what is it? Don't keep me in suspense here."

"I was handed a promotion." He then told me, and my smile returned.

"How good of one?"

"I am now the leading scientist on the project I was recruited for nearly a year ago." Rex sounded very smug, as was his right with such a promotion.

"What happened to the previous leading scientist?"

I had not forgotten about Dr. Mindbender, and this promotion of Rex's seemed a little fast. My friend also tensed slightly at the question, and his words were almost awkwardly said. Barely noticeable.

"He was relieved of his position due to incompetence. Too many mistakes made."

After a brief pause, I then replied, "Sounds like he couldn't handle the pressure," At saying this, Rex's tension relaxed, "I hope it's not too much for you Rex."

He shook his head. "Don't worry Sarah, I find the challenges of my new position… exhilarating."

Chapter Text

31 | 1600 | A | APR | 21

"Permettez-moi de prendre votre manteau, Mademoiselle Sarah."

Allow me to take your coat, Mademoiselle Sarah.

"Bien sûr, Armand."

Of course, Armand.

It was still hard for me to say that, though understandable as I'd only been living in Chateau Lacroix for about a month now. I hadn't been explicitly told that I would have to adapt to a way of speaking to others, especially when it came to those of elite social society, but I figured it out quickly without much nudging. I would often get looks from the permanent staff, most often from Armand, and my grandfather would make subtle comments. Nothing too harsh, and so far they seemed pleased with my progress.

"Comment s'est passée votre sortie aujourd'hui?" He then asked me and I replied simply, "Très agréable, grand-père m'a offert un cadeau généreux."

How was your outing today?

Very enjoyable, grandfather gave me a generous gift.

Today was my birthday, and my grandfather decided to arrange a private tour of the Paris Catacombs for me. I had been planning to write a novel involving a serial killer nicknamed "The Catacomb Creeper" and was big news back in the nineteen-thirties for the twenty-six murders of both lost tourists and native Parisians in, previously, unexplored sections of the catacombs, and so this was a wonderful surprise from him. Most of the morning and the entirety of my afternoon was spent being guided through the tunnels to the popular spots, as well as the not so well known parts. As much as I wanted to explore the sections that were deemed hazardous, I didn't want to get my guide in trouble. I did manage to convince him to show me the locations of where the Catacomb Creeper's victims were found though, so it was all good.

I certainly planned to take a shower now that I was home, and then relax the rest of the day away. Before I could leave for my room, however, Armand light stopped me with a hand on my shoulder.

"Le Comté a une autre surprise pour vous, Mademoiselle. Il est dans votre chambre et une fois que vous avez été nettoyé, il aimerait que vous le rencontriez dans le salon."

The Comté has another surprise for you, Mademoiselle. It is in your room, and once you are cleaned up he would like you to meet with him in the drawing room.

I gave him a quick nod, and Armand gave me a small smile before letting me go to attend to his other duties. Frowning a little as I climbed up the stairs to reach the hallway that would lead to my room, I wondered what else my grandfather had in store for me. Entering my room, my jaw nearly dropped at what I was seeing on my bed. It was a dark green evening dress and a pair of simple low-heeled pumps. There was also some elegant silver jewelry, some bangles to go on my wrist and silver-chain necklace that had diamonds, my birthstone, artfully hanging from it. Not knowing what to do initially, I stared at the ensemble and further wondered what exactly my grandfather had planned for tonight.

Then it hit me.

A soirée… he had, most likely, planned a small party for me to celebrate my birthday. The dress, the shoes, the jewelry, it all made sense. Of course, he'd plan something like this, and it played right into a proper introduction into elite French society too. The location also made sense, letting me know that it was only going to be a few guests and ones he wanted to introduce me to. Sighing, I turned my focus away and headed for the shower.

Thirty minutes later and I was staring at myself in the full-length mirror, certain I was looking at a different person. I looked good in the ensemble that was gifted to me, my dark brown hair curling around my shoulders due to its length. The green of my eyes stood out more wearing the dress, making a striking effect. Looking at the stranger before me, I didn't know what to think. I wasn't sure if this was me or just a shiny veneer. I gave myself an uncertain smile, trying to sell the idea of a future Comtesse, but I couldn't bring myself to see it.

I exhaled deeply and gathered my wits before I left for the drawing room, and whatever my grandfather had planned. Armand was waiting by the door, and he gave me an approving nod when I approach him.

"À quoi dois-je m'attendre?"

What should I expect?

Armand was not surprised that I had figured it out, and replied calmly, "Juste quelques amis de la famille et vous les présenter surtout. Il y a aussi des gâteaux et des rafraîchissements."

Just a few family friends and introducing you to them mostly. There is also cake and refreshments.

That made me smile, his way of simplifying the situation. It also reminded me of Rex. He could do the same thing with ease. I kept up my smile though, feeling the need to as I didn't want to disappoint my grandfather by frowning during my own birthday party. After inhaling deeply, I nodded to Armand and braced myself for what awaited me in the drawing room. Armand opened the door and I stepped through to find four other individuals other than my grandfather in the drawing room.

There were two distinct couples. The first man had short black hair slicked back, dark eyes, and was wearing a sharp suit. Judging from his posture, however, it seemed he felt more comfortable in something else other than the formal suit. The other man had shockingly blond hair and bright blue eyes, wearing a suit similar to the other man though a few shades lighter. In contrast to the first man, he wore his suit with absolute ease and comfort. Their partners matched, making each couple very photogenic. The blond man had a darker blond-haired woman at his side as they sat on the loveseat, and she had kind-looking brown eyes, a soft smile on her lips, and wore a simple, white sleeveless dress. On the lounge where the first man sat was a black-haired woman, and she wore a fairly provocative dress and a fur stole that covered her shoulders. She had soft features as well, but there was a harshness to them, an observation I couldn't find an explanation for. It was her eyes that truly shocked me, however.

They were a far darker brown that the blond woman's eyes and instantly they reminded me of Rex's eyes. Her eyes were remarkably similar, so much so I could see the same level of keen intelligence. I mentally shook my head. It was just a coincidence and it has been a month since I last talked to Rex, so I was definitely missing him.

"Ah, ma petite-fille décide finalement de nous rejoindre!" My grandfather teased a little, making my focus return to him and I teased him back in equal measure as I took a seat next to him. "Si vous vous arrêtez avec les surprises, alors peut-être serais-je plus opportun."

Ah, my granddaughter finally decides to join us!

If you would stop with the surprises, then maybe I would be more timely.

"Peut-être," He conceded with a smile, and then gestured to the other four people in the room, "Mais maintenant je peux enfin vous présenter quelques amis de la famille."

Maybe, but now I can finally introduce you to some friends of the family.

He first referred to the couple on the love seat. "Voici Arthur et Lucille, le Vicomte et la Vicomtesse Beauchêne. Nos familles sont amies depuis des siècles, confrontées à tous les défis qui se posent à l'aristocratie."

This is Arthur and Lucille, the Vicomte and Vicomtesse Beauchêne. The Beauchêne's and the Lacroix's have been friends for centuries, facing every challenge posed to the aristocracy together.

"Particulièrement pendant les révolutions, quand les gens ont voulu supprimer complètement l'aristocratie." Arthur replied with a grim smile, "Je ne sais pas ce que seraient devenues nos familles si nous ne nous étions pas soutenus mutuellement."

Particularly during the revolutions, when the people wanted to remove the aristocracy completely. I don't know what would have become of our families had we not supported each other.

"Effectivement." My grandfather agreed, and then he introduced to the other couple. "Maintenant, je vais vous présenter Daniel et Ana, le Baron et la Baronne DeCobray. Ce sont des amis plus récents de la famille et nous en sommes heureux."

Indeed. Now may I introduce to you Daniel and Ana, the Baron and Baroness DeCobray. They are more recent friends of the family, and we're glad for it.

"Tout pour favoriser la bonne volonté entre les anciennes et les nouvelles familles." Daniel replied with a smile, and then looked to me when he then said, "Sans votre grand-père Mademoiselle, je ne pense pas que j'aurais jamais été prêt à prendre le titre de ma famille."

Anything to foster goodwill between the old and new families. Without your grandfather Mademoiselle, I don't think I would have ever been prepared to take my family's title.

"Comment cela?" I asked him to elaborate, as that was an interesting thing to say.

What do you mean?

"J'étais orphelin très jeune," The Baron explained, "Et ton grand-père a pris sur moi de me prendre sous son aile et de me préparer à l'âge adulte. Je n'aurais pas pu demander un meilleur professeur."

I was orphaned at a young age, and your grandfather took it upon himself to take me under his wing and prepare me for adulthood. I couldn't have asked for a better teacher.

"Tu étais un gamin, Daniel." My grandfather corrected with a smile, "Quelqu'un devait vous mettre en place et vous transformer en un beau jeune homme."

You were a brat, Daniel. Someone had to put you in place and turn you into a fine young man.

Daniel's smile widened, accepting the correction.

"Elle ressemble tellement à Emily!" The Vicomtesse commented with delight, nearly gushing as she inspected me. "Si elle n'avait pas tes yeux Gerard, je jurerais qu'elle était là devant moi!"

She looks so much like Emily! If she didn't have your eyes, Gerard, I would swear she was here in front of me!

"Emily?" The Baroness raised an eyebrow, and suddenly the mood turned more somber at her question. Eyes were on the Baron, and he gave his wife an apologetic look.

"Il semble que j'ai oublié de te dire Ana, mes excuses. Emily Hastings était la belle-fille de Gerard, la femme d'Adrian. Il y a treize ans, elle est morte-"

It seems I forgot to tell you Ana, my apologies. Emily Hastings was Gerard's daughter-in-law, Adrian's wife. Thirteen years ago she died-

"Elle a été tuée."

She was killed.

Everyone looked at me, giving me confused looks as my tone was firm. My grandfather was the only exception, as he knew it as well as I did. I gave the Baron a shake of my head as I finished with, "Il n'y a pas besoin d'alléger ce qui s'est passé, Baron DeCobray. Je l'ai compris depuis longtemps et ma mère était une autre victime des choix de mon père."

There's no need to lighten what happened, Baron DeCobray. I figured it out long ago and my mother was another casualty of my father's choices.

"Quelques mots d'une jeune femme, mademoiselle Sarah," Ana commented plainly, and I lightly shrugged. "Ma mère n'était pas la seule victime. J'ai peur d'être parfois trop cynique à cause de ça. Cependant, au moins une bonne chose en est venue."

Odd words from a young woman, Mademoiselle Sarah.

My mother wasn't the only victim. I'm afraid I'm too cynical at times because of it. However, at least one good thing came of it.

"Et qu'est-ce que ce serait?" Arthur asked, leaning forward a little.

And what would that be?

"I'm bilingual, and my English is as good as my French," I replied in my first language, my tone wry, and grins were all around the room. Even the Baroness was smiling a little more sincerely. I would have also mentioned Rex, were it not for a strange feeling I had. A feeling that told me I shouldn't, not in this company. My grandfather then clapped his hands and the focus turned to him.

"Assez de mon fils," He said firmly, "Et d'ailleurs, Emily voudrait que nous fêtions l'anniversaire de Sarah. Nous devrions honorer sa mémoire en le faisant, non?"

Enough of my son, and besides, Emily would want us to celebrate Sarah's birthday. We should honor her memory by doing so, no?

"Bien sûr," The Vicomte agreed, "Je devrais aussi m'excuser pour l'absence de Bastien, il ya eu une urgence avec son fils et il envoie ses regrets d'être incapable d'accepter votre invitation, Gérard."

Of course. I should also apologize for Bastien's absence, there was an emergency with his son and he sends his regrets for being unable to accept your invitation, Gerard.

"Il est pardonné." My grandfather nodded, "Je comprends que des situations inattendues peuvent survenir qui doivent primer sur une soirée sociale."

He is forgiven. I understand that unexpected situations can arise that must take precedence over a social evening.

"Flavie était impatiente de nous rejoindre également," The Vicomtesse sighed, "Mais son fils est une telle poignée ces jours-ci!"

Flavie was looking forward to joining us as well, but her son is such a handful these days!

"Nous devrions voir si nous pouvons sortir Flavie de chez elle, peut-être qu'une journée en ville lui ferait du bien." The Baroness then suggested, and Vicomtesse lit up brightly as she agreed wholeheartedly, "Absolument! Et nous devrions vous emmener aussi, Sarah, pour que vous puissiez rencontrer Flavie et que nous puissions vous montrer les meilleurs endroits à Paris!"

We should see if we can get Flavie away from her home, perhaps a day in the city would do her some good.

Absolutely! And we should bring you along too Sarah so you can meet Flavie and we can show you the best places in Paris!

It felt like my smile was straining the muscles in my cheeks with how much effort it was taking me to do so. In my opinion, I had already been to the best place in Paris but I kept up the appearance of being politely interested and nodded. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Armand give me a barely noticeable nod, approving my of my outward reaction though he certainly knew what I would rather be doing than shopping for the sake of shopping.

Pleasant conversation continued for the next hour, ranging from tentative plans for the outing in Paris to general light gossip and to catching each other up on what the families have been up to recently. I mostly remained quiet with frequent glances to the clock on the fireplace mantle, counting down the minutes until it was alright to leave without too many questions. Surprisingly though, Armand had disappeared for several minutes after a brief and quiet word with my grandfather. He had now returned, again speaking into my grandfather's ear. My grandfather nodded, and then he glanced at me before saying, "Vous avez l'air fatiguée Sarah et je vous ai gardé assez longtemps ici."

You are looking tired Sarah, and I have kept you here long enough.

He was up to something again, I just knew it. My time here in the drawing room may have been over but he had another surprise waiting for me. I gave him a small smile however and nodded as I stood from my seat. Bidding everyone goodnight and leaving my grandfather with a hug, I retreated back to my room. Opening my door, however, revealed the next surprise.

Shipping boxes, and over a dozen of them of various sizes.

In a rush I was inspecting the boxes, lightly lifting them to check their weight and maybe guess at their contents. What made them really strange was the lack of a return address of every single one of them. My personal desktop started pinging, and looking over my bed to my desk I saw Odin's Eye open and a video chat request from Rex on the screen. Another rush and I was accepting the request, Rex appearing on video dressed exactly the same as he had been last time. However, tonight he looked incredibly smug.

"I see you've received your present."

I glanced back at the packages, my eyes widening when I looked back at him and exclaimed in disbelief, "This is all your doing?!"

"With some help from your grandfather," He admitted with a slight shrug, "But happy birthday Sarah."

"Rex…" I was practically speechless, and it took me a few moments to get my thoughts together before I said, "You didn't have to get me anything, you know. Talking with you is better than anything in the world."

Better than visiting the Paris Catacombs, even.

"You're my best friend, Sarah," Rex replied in a lightly scolding tone, "And I wanted to make up for the fact that I am unable to get away from my work to surprise you in person."

This made my smile grow wider, and we spent a moment in silence before he cleared his throat- a sound that was really odd from behind his ventilator- before saying, "Now, I'm going to have to direct you on which packages to open in what order, so keep up."

It was easy to hear the smirk in his tones, so I gave him one in return.

"Alright then, let's get started!"

"Start with the small one right there next to the largest box." He instructed immediately, a gleam in his dark eyes and I knew that this was going to be a fun surprise. I moved over to my bed and picked up the package he had indicated. It had a lot of various warnings written and stamped onto it, was warm on the bottom, and it only furthered my interest and excitement. A few minutes later, and some struggle with the very secure packaging tape, I peeled back the cardboard flaps. What was revealed was a round plastic container with some small, drilled holes in the lid. The source of warmth was a little package, much like a hand warmer you would put in your gloves. Inside the container, however… was a snake.

I stared in shock at the little black and white creature, and after what felt like forever, I looked back at Rex on the monitor.

He was looking very smug as he said, "He's a Southern California Kingsnake, het Mosaic and het Palomar Ghost Morph."

My jaw nearly dropped and my voice was a little shaky from the shock as I asked, "How did you know?"

"Your grandfather and I tag-teamed on this one," Rex explained to me, deciding to take pity on me in my state of shock, "It happened to work out well with his own plans to surprise you."

"You're both horrible," I mock glared at him, "Teaming up on me like this. There are only so many surprises a girl can handle in one day."

"Couldn't resist," He teased right back, "And you can smother the little guy with affection after you set up the terrarium that's in the rest of the boxes."

It took us an hour to fully set up the desert-themed terrarium for my new pet snake. Rex directed me to the right boxes as I opened them with more struggles with the packaging tape. During the time in between opening boxes, he also gave me care and feeding instructions.

"And if you don't immediately recall any of this, the breeder will have emailed you this information by now in a nice pdf file."

I rolled my eyes a little as I put in the rocks that would help my snake when he sheds. The terrarium had been set up on my dresser, where it fit easily and comfortably. Everything had been set up from the sand to items such as the lamp and cool, dark areas where my snake could regulate his temperature. I nodded in satisfaction, then went back to the container where my new snake was still in. Cracking open the lid, I saw he was wide awake and staring at me with dark eyes. Carefully, I reached for him, letting him flick his tongue against my fingers before picking him up into my hand. He was fairly small, still a baby, and surprisingly calm as he just rested and looked around as I carried him from the bed to his new home. After placing him in the terrarium, I looked at the monitor as Rex then asked, "Have you come up with a name for him yet?"

I nodded, "Spectre."

"Specter?"

I then grinned. "Spectre, like the James Bond movie."

It immediately dawned on my best friend just what I was implying and he gave me a mock look of horror as he said, "You actually like Daniel Craig as James Bond?"

"More than Sean Connery," I confirmed and he sighed, the sound emphasized by the ventilator.

"Why?"

"I named him Spectre because of the ghost morph he has, since 'specter' and 'ghost' are synonymous, " I elaborated, my grin not leaving my face, "It's only a bonus that I also like the Bond film of the same name."

"Very imaginative," He commented with the exaggerated disappointment of an intellectual. Of course, I had to defend my case.

"Hey, like you could come up with anything better!"

Not that it wasn't a defense… just not a very good one.

"Phantasma."

I blinked. "What?"

"It's 'specter' in Latin." He replied smugly.

"Really, Darth Vader?" I deadpanned, and he nodded.

"Yes, Lefty, yes indeed."

My smile returned, and I knew that even though he couldn't be here in person it would be a birthday I would always remember as the best one. First experiences were special like that, after all, things that could never be repeated and I was very happy that share this one with him.

Chapter Text

17 | 2115 | A | MAY | 22

Fourteen months.

That was how long it took for my inheritance to be brought up again.

I had been away on a trip touring Normandy with Lucille and Flavie Beauchêne, the latter of whom was Comtesse as she was married to Arthur's elder brother Bastien. Flavie was less outgoing than her sister-in-law, but I learned quickly that she had backbone nonetheless and had no reservations about being firm and putting her foot down when it was needed. We got along well on that point, and I was glad to make a fast friend in her during the trip. However, our trip had been cut short with a single phone call from Armand to Flavie. The call had not been made directly to myself since Armand had wanted either Lucille or Flavie, who had picked up first, to break the news of my grandfather's death to me.

He had a heart attack when reading in the library, and though he had been immediately rushed to the hospital he didn't make it.

That had been three weeks ago, and I still remember going into a pale state of shock. My mind had known what my ears were hearing from Flavie, but in the suspension of perception my shock had put me in couldn't quite believe them. I had only known my grandfather for barely over a year and now he was gone. I thought I would still have a few more years but that would never be the case for my grandfather and I. Now, I sat in the living room meeting with other mourners after the funeral, receiving their condolences. I spoke very few words with them, mostly nodding and simply thinking over my own thoughts throughout.

It had been a well-put-together funeral for my grandfather: Full military honors, a lengthy procession, and - to my surprise - a rather large crowd of mourners. More interestingly, as I noticed throughout the proceedings, many weren't natively French and dressed in the full military regalia of other countries. My grandfather had told me quite a few things about his illustrious and exciting military career, though I noticed when he talked more lightly and vaguely during more than a few of his stories. I knew that he had done quite a bit of traveling throughout his career, but he never really mentioned making a lot of friends or friendly acquaintances. Certainly not enough for this turnout for his funeral.

And, not unexpectedly, my father was conspicuously absent from the proceedings despite the many people who did arrive for a final goodbye to my grandfather. It looked like even I wasn't enough to come back for, and I made this the moment that, like my grandfather had nearly two decades ago, estranged me from my father. Of course, he wouldn't be inheriting anything though I doubted he would show even if he had been left something. However, Adrian Lacroix was better at leaving things behind.

The paperwork would be finalized in a few days, but other than that my inheritance was written in stone. Glancing around the room, it was easy to spot those whose grief was as sincere as mine. Inspecting a little deeper, however, and I found those whose grief was a mask to hide the jealousy and greed they had against me. This was no surprise for me, as I had expected this to appear in this wake for my grandfather and something Armand further warned me about. As he had told me: I was a pretty-looking stranger to many who ran in the social circles of elite society, and I essentially appeared from nowhere and so seemed like a charming upstart. Now here I was, a Comtesse at nineteen and inheritor of everything under the Lacroix name. Several individuals and even entire families would not like that.

Even though gaining a substantial inheritance seemed like a fairytale and the end to all troubles, one had to remember that this was not how reality truly worked and that with greater status came greater troubles.

I had only just begun to note those individuals who were unhappy with my sudden elevation in status for future reference when someone approached me with a sure, military-type presence. Turning my head to get a better look at this person, I not only noted that it was a man, older but not nearly as old as my grandfather had been though definitely starting to grey, and dressed in his full military honors. Picking out that detail, my eyes widened a little as I then saw it was the decorated military attire for a general from the United States. Once he was closer I stood, wanting to greet him on more even ground, and I didn't get the chance to read the name on his heavily-starched jacket before he offered his hand and introduced himself, solving that matter.

"Comtesse Lacroix, a pleasure to finally meet you though I regret it is under these circumstances," He said as we shook hands, "I'm General Clayton Abernathy. Your grandfather and I knew each other back in the day, and the world lost a great man with his passing."

The name did not ring any bells for me, but him personally knowing my grandfather did cause me to raise an eyebrow as I replied, "A pleasure to make your acquaintance, General Abernathy, and thank you for your condolences, but now I must ask how did you know my grandfather?"

Letting go of my hand, he had a nostalgic smile on his very military-looking face before telling me, "Gerard and I met while he was on loan from the French Government in the nineties. It was a top-secret project, so I can't tell you much about it-" Abernathy had an apologetic look when he said that, "But it was an experimental military outfit that we, among a few others, had been selected to try and see if it could work."

"And did it work?" I was incredibly interested, so I had to ask. My grandfather had never mentioned this whenever he talked to me about his military career. Then again, it was apparently top secret, so I could understand why he had taken the safe road and opted out of telling me about this. The general gave me a conspiratorial wink.

"It did, and I'm proud to say that I became good friends with your grandfather during the time he stayed with us. I remember the day when he received word from home that he became a grandfather. Kept showing us pictures of you and your mother every time he received new ones." He then chuckled, "None of us had the heart to stop him, even though the new recruits were getting tired of it."

We both had a good laugh at that and it was fairly easy for me to imagine a slightly younger version of my grandfather showing off the first pictures of his only grandchild. Easier still, when I remembered seeing the pride in his eyes whenever I accomplished something I was proud of. Afterward, General Abernathy took his leave, apologizing that he couldn't stay any longer as he had obligations elsewhere he had to take care of but wished me the best and again offered his condolences. When he had left, it was back to noting who was upset at my ascension until the wake finally ended. Once the last of the guests had left, I exhaled deeply as Armand closed the door softly behind them.

He looked to me, concern crossing his face before it was schooled back into professionalism and he asked me, "Voulez-vous passer du temps seul, Comtesse?"

Would you like some time alone, Comtesse?

I started a bit at being referred to by that title but realized that I would have to get used to it now. I now owned the title of Comtesse Lacroix and would be referred to as such in upper social circles. To answer Armand, I nodded.

"Je crois que je vais prendre un peu de temps pour moi-même dans l'étude de grand-père."

I believe I will take some time to myself in grandfather's study.

He nodded in response, and I disappeared from the living room and up to the second level for the study. I only gave a passing glance to the library, as you had to enter the library to get into the study. Once I was in the study and after I had closed the door behind me, I fell into his large office chair and closed my eyes. I had lost count of how many times I had cried between the news of his death and the present, but as the tears pricked at my eyes I knew that I would have to add another instance to my vague count. Sadness and exhaustion eventually overtook me as it sat his chair.

It couldn't have been more than an hour that had passed as I sat there in the study - though I wasn't certain - when there were a few polite knocks on the door.

I opened my eyes carefully, glancing over at the door for a few seconds before standing from the chair and opening the door a few inches. Armand was standing there, but what confused me was the small smile on his face. He presented himself as if he knew something important but would not tell me immediately. This was further proven when he then told me, "Comtesse, vous avez un visiteur."

Comtesse, you have a visitor.

"Un visiteur?"

A visitor?

He nodded, then stepped aside to reveal the person I had wanted to see most for months. Rex stood there - my thoughts essentially short-circuited a little as I realized that he was here in person - in a long black trench coat, wore a faded blue scarf that covered his ventilator, and it was all topped off by a wide black fedora. It was a lot of black barely broken up by the blue, but my emotions didn't care as tears flowed again. I ran the few feet between us and hugged him with enough force to send him stumbling a bit. He regained his balance in seconds however and hugged me back. That was all he did - no questions, just comfort.

At some point, Armand had silently excused himself but I hadn't noticed until Rex suggested that we go into the study to talk. We found ourselves sitting on the chaise lounge and Rex had maneuvered us to where my head was tucked against his shoulder and he was able to hold me comfortably. It was a while before I was able to stop crying for my grandfather's passing mixed in with the sheer happiness of seeing Rex here in person. When I did, Rex and I just sat in the quiet of the study, taking in the measures of peace we could take from it.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

I shook my head and leaned further into him as I attempted to not start crying again. I heard, and felt, his inhale and exhale deeply a few times before he then said, "Want to play a round or two of chess?" This caused me to look up at him, smiling when I saw the crow's feet at the corners of his dark eyes. I nodded.

"Grandfather has a set in here somewhere, give me a minute to find it."

A few minutes later, the old wooden chess set where the pieces were walnut-brown and cream in color was found and set up. Seven moves in and Rex hadn't pulled the plug on my half-hearted defense strategy yet, though I knew he would soon enough. We were both quiet as we played, the only sounds being his ventilator and wood on wood as we moved our pieces on the board. Eventually, I spoke up quietly.

"So how has your work been going?"

"Well," He replied lightly as he moved a pawn, "Everything is on schedule so far, and I have high hopes we can potentially accelerate our timetable over the next few months."

"I hear a 'but' in there, Rex."

He sighed. "Probably because I could have moved things farther along sooner if it weren't for the tight and as such limiting budget. It puts an interesting pressure on my quality of work."

I looked up from the game, staring straight into his eyes as I then asked, "You're not getting too stressed, are you?"

The smile in his eyes as present as he said, "No more than to be expected. I can handle the pressure, I just have to be particularly inventive with the workarounds."

Laughing a bit, I leaned forward onto my elbows after I made another move with my remaining rook before saying, "I seriously have to wonder what it is you do to be put in this kind of situation."

"Well, I can't talk about the project as that very top secret Lefty," He winked and moved his queen, "But what I can tell you is that I currently work as a scientist specializing in experimental biomechanical engineering. Also," He lightly gestured at the chess board, "Checkmate."

I leaned back in my chair, keeping my eyes on him. "Experimental biomechanical engineering? Like what?"

"Nano-technology."

I grinned. "Very science-fiction of you, Darth Vader."

"I try… now," Rex then laced his fingers together as he too leaned back into his chair, his whole demeanor then becoming very serious. "What do you plan on doing now?"

I shifted a little in my seat, thinking yet uncomfortable - no, uncertain - all of a sudden. It was so long before I responded, "Well, Armand says that as long as the accounts are balanced and the investments are handled wisely, I shouldn't have any problems with money. Grandfather taught me how to do that, and if I have any problems I have Armand to help me."

Rex nodded. "Anything else?"

I frowned. "He also thinks I should pursue a university degree. In what, I don't know. Hell, I don't even know where to start concerning university!"

"Do you have a high school diploma?"

"It's called secondary school here, Rex," I teased and corrected him simultaneously, "And yes, I have completed secondary school."

"Where?"

"Online. Never attended a school with other students in person, not with all the moving my father had us do before dropping me off with grandfather."

"And how long ago with this?"

"I'm nineteen now, so last year."

"Then I agree with Armand, you should pursue a higher education degree. Money only goes so far and you'll be taken more seriously with one than without one. Make your own reputation. Don't just be a Lacroix - be Sarah Lacroix of whatever you want to accomplish."

I had a very-wide eyed stare for him by the time he finished.

"That's a very motivational speech… where were you hiding it?"

He laughed, really laughed, before the steady mechanism of his ventilator forced him to stop so he could continue to breathe more evenly. After a few light coughs, he then said, "I can be motivational if I want to, but it only seems to come up when you're involved. You're my friend Sarah, and I want you to succeed in whatever you decide to do."

I gave him a soft smile. "That's very sweet Rex, and I guess I'll have to let you know if I find a degree and university that I like."

"When you do," He correct, his smile still on his face, "There's no doubt you will find something you like."

"Are you staying long enough to help me?"

Rex shook his head. "Unfortunately, I need to return to project fairly quickly. My employer will be wanting me to return to continue personally supervising the project he has me on."

I must have had a confused expression on my face, as his became questioning as he then asked, "What is it?"

"... Does your employer not know you're here?"

His eyes widened, but it was schooled quickly into reassurance as he then said, "No, he doesn't but he won't found out about this. Besides, he doesn't need to."

"Are you sure?"

"I'm sure."

But after we said our goodbyes and when I was in the privacy of my room, I allowed myself to think that there was something wrong - and worse was that I didn't know what beyond the certainty that Rex was involved. I took in a deep breath, calmed myself down, and told myself that all these little suspicions were probably just adding up to become some monstrous theory and I needed to stop.

Rex was my best friend, I was his best friend, and I trusted him as much as I was sure he trusted me. Unfortunately, that thought only created a sick feeling in my stomach.

If he really trusted me… why was he hiding something from me?