Sucker (ON HOLD/INCOMPLETE)

6: Trigger

Song: "Trigger" by Hayley Williams

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Sang

I woke with a renewed vigor. The churning in my gut hadn't lessened in the slightest, but that wouldn't deter me.

I had too busy a schedule today to let it stop me.

My first meeting of the day was to be with Phil at Toast. Apparently, another member of the Academy had turned him onto it, and now it was his go-to location when he wasn't stuck at the hospital.

I paused, giving myself just more than a cursory glance in the mirror before leaving. Dirty blonde—chameleon, Gabriel would call it—hair curled around my face where it wasn't pulled back, framing solemn green eyes, a buttonish nose, and pursed lips. I looked sad and anxious, and no effort I made could allow me to hide it.

I sighed. I had earned this, and I knew it.

Exiting the door, I made my way to my car. It was a standard sedan, a dull blue which no one would take a second glance at. The appearance was deceptive, though; a couple favors had resulted in a motor which could outrun most chases after my stalkers, a group of individuals in Italian Volto masks, had gotten a little too close one night.

I shuddered at the thought. Some things—most things—were better let in the past.

A short while later, I found myself at Toast, giggling at a cheesy joke Phil had made, admiring the way his eyes twinkled in delight.

We made small talk for a while. He'd tell me about the hospital or his wife; I'd reply with an anecdote about my adventures outside the great state of South Carolina. I'd been in Seattle for the better part of a year. I told stories of all the tourist haunts, of the mac 'n' cheese at the flagship Beecher's store, of walks through the Burke Museum, of dizzying trips to the top of the Space Needle.

I neglected to mention the man behind it all.

The conversation spun on, trading story after story. I almost lost the edge I'd been carrying with me all morning.

Almost.

No matter how hard I tried to pay attention, a small part of my mind was trained on the impending disaster that was my upcoming mission with the former Blackbourne team. I could imagine a thousand ways it would go wrong, and all of them traced back to my poor breakup behaviors.

Phil frowned ever so slightly and I was drawn back to the conversation at hand.

"You know, I read the Blackbourne mission report, little bird." He paused. "And it was thorough."

My brow furrowed and I slumped back into my chair. A finger poked at my lip. "I think I really messed this one up, Phil."

He coaxed me to continue with a motion of his hand.

"I... I really had convinced myself I was doing the right thing. I was somehow saving us both the pain of a real breakup if I just left a note. I mean, I still was in pain, but..." I glanced at him hopelessly.

"You didn't think they really loved you," he supplied.

I nodded slowly.

"Oh, Sang..." he shook his head remorsefully. "I thought we were past this."

I picked at my lip, then said softly, "I don't know if we'll ever be past this."

"You deserve love. You accept love from me, from Mrs. Rose, from Lily. Why wouldn't a kind young man love you, too?"

I frowned, then continued in the same quiet tone. "Maybe I should have some sessions with Lily while I'm here."

His features softened. "I think that would be a really good idea. You're not just hurting yourself when you close yourself off to love like this."

I nodded, rubbing a hand at my temple. "The last thing I wanted was to hurt them."

A silence fell over the table, and Phil reached out to hold my hand. His thumb rubbed at the back of it. "You would never hurt someone intentionally. I know it, you know it, and those boys know it, somewhere in those heads of theirs. If they can't realize that, they aren't worth it."

I pursed my lips. A dark part of me, the part permanently scarred by my childhood, told me that I was built to destroy, that I was tainted, a walking time bomb.

I shook the thought away and grounded myself with the feeling of Phil's warm skin pressing against mine.

He grinned conspiratorially suddenly, though his eyes were still sad. "Want to hear about the boys in their youth?"

I nodded distractedly. It would be useful to know about the men I would be working with for the next however long.

Phil smiled gently. "Let's start with Sean and Owen.

"I first met them when they were young, less than ten. They were an unlikely pair, to be sure. Sean walked around with a cigarette behind his ear and ratty band tee shirts; Owen was... well, he was more or less the same as he is today. They graduated young, too." He paused. "Actually, the hospital wouldn't have been built without their efforts." My brows raised at that. It couldn't have been an easy feat.

"Sean is now a doctor at the hospital. Maternity ward, mostly. He likes the babies. I think he intends to start his own practice one day, but he keeps putting it off because we're understaffed. He and Owen still work together. I'm not sure anything could separate them, not even the worst of fights. I think they may be the only people that can truly understand each other.

"North and Silas also still work together. They met in Greece and joined the group later. North is Luke's brother, as I'm sure you know..." I grimaced at the name of my former beloved. "North wouldn't come here without Silas. They also seem to exist in their own world most days.

"Everyone else went their own ways. But back in the day, it was the lot of them against the world. Kota, Victor, Luke, Gabriel, and Nathan. They were friends from kindergarten and before, some of the relationships dating to diapers. We found them stealing in school to help the disadvantaged kids in their classroom, fighting bullies, raising hell."

My mind raced as I imagined their lives back then. I tried to ignore the painful way my heart panged.

"So, why did they split, if they were so inseparable?"

Phil frowned, then spoke softly. "That's a question you'd have to ask them. Most days, I wonder myself."

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Grad school applications are going to kill me. Who decided to make the GRE so hard?