Hidden and Silent (SpyxFamily)

Ch. 4: Part Two

Forger hadn't answered. What was wrong? Damian watched her go as her pink head disappeared around the door and he glanced at her untouched star.

He looked up to meet Blackbell's intense gaze and the message behind it was unclear until she spoke.

"You know something I don't?" She asked and Damian went back to glueing colours to his star.

"Nope."

"Liar." Blackbell went back to her own star. Ewen and Emile pretended not to pay attention. Blackbell stuck purple and blue on the sides of her cardboard and looked purposefully back to him. She kept her sights on him until he looked up. She spoke intently with her eyes. Something's wrong with her. She said and Damian was compelled to hold it. Blackbell wanted to know and he wondered if she should be involved in this. This problem concerned the lab, she might be getting into more than she expected. He certainly had.

Damian returned her serious look and debated if this was a good idea or not. Obviously.

Blackbell was Forger's best friend. If something was wrong with her, Damian figured she would want this particular support. It wasn't the plan, but maybe this would work better. He plastered red and orange layers that emanated from the centre of his star.

Too bad it had to be Blackbell.

Her hands slowed and their eyes met again. Her face was steadfast and grave. We need to help her. She implied with a subtle nod to the door Anya left through and Damian flicked a look at his friends who carefully feigned inattentiveness.

Obviously. He indicated again, his brows furrowing stubbornly at her, and turned to review his work before he and Blackbell started to appear suspicious. He began glueing yellow to the sides.

When his gaze returned to her, her eyes had narrowed. We'll have to work together. She didn't speak it, but he felt her questioning his ability to do so and his resolve to help Forger. If Damian agreed, he was admitting he cared about Forger. That they were friends.

He audibly sighed. Obviously. I'm a man, remember? That's simple. He retorted.

Blackbell snorted mirthlessly, maintaining her glare, and it was like she was trying to find the fault in his words. "It's a deal." Blackbell said out loud with the seriousness and gravity of a seasoned veteran preparing to launch an attack.

Damian nodded curtly.

"What's a deal?" Emile said.

"Nothing. Don't worry about it." Replied Blackbell.

"You guys are weird." The girl beside Blackbell said off-handedly as she attached green and blue all over her star.

Damian had nearly forgotten she was there, though it was the whole point they hadn't spoken out loud.

He finished glueing the yellow on the sides, and began on the the other face of the star. From the top point, he held it delicately so he wouldn't ruin the finished side, and attempted to make it identical.

He glanced up to the door. Forger still hadn't come back yet. He wondered what was bothering her. What could have happened? Could he actually help? How did he do that if he didn't know how?

He glued on another square.

A lot had happened at the lab. It could be more than one thing. When he thought about everything that happened, it all made him sweat and jittery with nerves.

The gun. . .the bodies. . .

He felt his face pale and he shook his head.

He was trying not to think about it. Seeing the image of the dark barrel pointed between his eyes, once, was enough. It popped in at the oddest of times though. Like a jingle you couldn't erase from your mind that played randomly to remind you of it.

Damian didn't think he would ever forget that. That or the bodies. The way Mrs. Forger was drenched in the blood. The way Mr. Forger knew exactly what he was doing. The way that Forger screamed when she was dragged from the cell as if she was about to be murdered.

The way Damian had never been so terrified in his life.

He had stilled and his hand hung in the air holding a red piece of wrapping tissue. As if trying to break from the memories, he slowly reached to add it to the ring he made on the outer part of the star. He began on the next made of orange.

He wondered when he would stop being scared to think about what happened.

Damian glued another piece, trying to distract himself from those thoughts, and glued another. And another. And another.

The orange ring was almost done when it struck him and he stopped to look at it.

It was the same.

He'd wanted to show his father the last project he'd made. Damian had wanted it to be perfect so his father would acknowledge him and tell him he'd done a good job.

If he showed him this. . .what would his father say now. Now that Damian knew?

It was a silly arts craft. A stupid decoration for the ceiling, and yet the inexplicable need for his father's approval had been behind every square he'd plastered to the cardboard. They were all laid so carefully, and he wondered if there was any point. His father would never see it, he probably wouldn't care, so why was Damian so meticulous? Still? With everything he did?

Maybe his father would care. Maybe it wasn't pointless. Just because his father wasn't who Damian thought he was, it didn't mean he didn't care about Damian. Maybe trying to win his affection. . .wasn't pointless.

Even as he thought it, he also denied it. He'd seen who his father was, but wanted to believe there was more to it.

He wondered if Demetrius ever felt this way. He was going to see him the coming weekend, but he didn't think he could ask.

He glanced again to the door. Forger still wasn't back.