The Last Hope

20 - Forgotten

SONG FOR THIS CHAPTER - Bitter Heart, Memi. Linked above! If you enjoy the chapter please vote, it means a lot. Also, I actively encourage commenting and am trying my best to reply to any as quickly as I can. Want a chat? Don't be shy!

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Home smelled like cinnamon and fresh paint.

Even in the dark, Mercy knew that behind the front door was an easel - and it would clatter noisily to the floor if she didn't catch it. She did just that, stepping through the threshold, and waving Lincoln and Mona in behind her. Her father, Craig, didn't believe in traditional alarm systems - he was too suspicious of them to ever install one.

She'd had to show Lincoln her street on her phone for him to picture it well enough to jump them both here. But he'd eventually managed it, after a lengthy description of the things outside the borders of the photo from Felix. Mercy couldn't tell if she was grateful or not.

Soundlessly, Mona and Lincoln stepped into the hall behind her. Her parent's room was at the top of the stairs, and hers just off to the left of that.

"I want to explain it to them," Mercy had said before they'd left. Just as Lincoln had wrapped his warm hand around her gloved one before they'd left. Mona had procured a pair of black silk, elbow-length gloves - where from, Mercy had no idea. They slipped with a whooshing sound against the sleeves of her leather jacket as she tugged them further up her arms, obscuring the inky mark on her left arm.

"Are you sure? They won't be able to remember anything anyway, are you sure you want to?" Mona had questioned from Lincoln's other side.

"Yes, I'm sure. I want them to know why. Even if only for a minute."

Mona had nodded mutely, lugging a bag full of items she needed for the enchantment. Glass bottles clattered noisily as she shifted the weight on her shoulder. Lincoln had offered to take it for her, but she'd refused. Apparently, the only downside to Lincoln's gift was that he tended to misplace things - hence why he had no personal items in his room. He never managed to hold onto them for long.

A gentle squeeze of her silk-clad hand had her blinking, her mind returning to the present. Mercy shook her head and extracted her hand from Lincoln's. "The dining room is that room there," Mercy pointed straight ahead, whispering, knowing that Lincoln and Mona's hearing was good enough to catch it. "Set up in there, and I'll bring them downstairs." Mona nodded wordlessly and floated down the corridor to the dining room, Lincoln in tow.

Mercy took a deep breath and looked around the hall. Even in the dark, it was vibrant. Each wall was a different shade, Eileen adored colour. This was the last time she would see this house. The last time she would walk through the door and call it home. That dull ache in her chest narrowed into a slicing pain that she struggled to breathe through.

She was doing this to save her parents. She could do this. She would do this.

Mercy kicked over the easel with her booted foot and clambered up the stairs to her parent's room.

"Mom! Dad!"

She could hear them scuffling about in their room before she had reached the top step, then, "Mercy Leanne Reid, do you know what time it is?" Eileen Reid poked her head out of her bedroom door, her long blonde-grey braid flopping over her shoulder. Tendrils had been ripped from the braid in her sleep, wreathing her head and spilling down the nape of her neck. As her mother's grey eyes met hers, Mercy nearly crumpled. Nearly ran down the stairs and out of the house.

She willed her spine into metal, "hey Mom."

The door opened wider as Craig appeared over her shoulder, "is everything okay pumpkin?"