Hidden and Silent (SpyxFamily)

Ch. 18: Part Three

 "It'll be fine."

Damian jolted as Demetrius passed by and ruffled his hair, bag in hand on his way to the washroom.

Usually, Damian would be indignant and irritated that his brother had read this thoughts, but his mind was drifting too far into fear of the unknown to care, distractedly clutching the comfort that at least Demetrius was here.

"Damian? Your turn." Mr. Forger addressed him a moment later and Forger slid off the stool, unrecognizable with a new face and a dark wig to cover her hair.

Who were these people? Damian had to wonder again and again.

What kind of psychiatrist was able to drive like an unhinged maniac and bring everyone out unscathed? What kind of doctor could completely change how a person looked so easily and so quickly?

"How do you know how to do this?" Damian asked and climbed onto the seat, eyeing the hands opening the goop bottle with a healthy dose of wary skepticism.

Mr. Forger smoothed the goop over Damian's skin, cool to the touch, and answered readily.

"I once wanted to be an actor and being able to change my appearance seemed like a useful skill to have. I would be able to play many roles in the same production, so I practiced a lot." He said and finished spreading the weird texture on Damian's face, strangely elastic-y as it solidified.

Damian blinked rapidly at Mr. Forger.

In the past, Damian would have thought nothing of it. How natural and quickly Mr. Forger's response was. How preparedly he gave it. But Damian picked up on it without even meaning to.

Ever since Demetrius.

Mr. Forger was lying. Damian was sure of it.

. . .Mostly.

The doctor took up a make-up tool from his case and Damian leaned uncomfortably away from it as it came towards his face.

As Mr. Forger painted it with gunk and powder, Damian watched him uneasily.

Why would he lie? What was he hiding? Damian realized he was probably just overly suspicious after catching Demetrius, and Mr. Forger wasn't a telepath, but Damian couldn't help his doubts. If the man was lying, what was the real reason?

"Disguises." Demetrius had said. Why would Mr. Forger need to know how to make disguises that changed someone's face so completely? Why would he have a place for them to hide out in? Why—

Well, okay. After Forger was kidnapped, it would make sense if they would want a safe place to go if she was ever targeted again. But how were her parents so insanely calm about everything? It was as if they had done this a million times before and took every problem, every punch that came at them like it was nothing. Damian thought he was finally in the loop, but one thing kept popping up after another.

When he caught Forger intensely focused on him, she startled, looking for anything else to pay attention to.

Well, that wasn't suspicious at all.

It seemed she wasn't the only Forger with secrets.

Damian's face felt funny when he slid off the seat and Mrs. Forger left her window to take her turn. Soon, everyone had a different face and freshly changed clothes.

"Everyone in." Mr. Forger had everyone pack into the grey car and Damian and Forger climbed in after Demetrius.

A moment later, the garage doors opened and they were leaving.

The ride was quiet. A stark contrast to the last one as the car ambled along behind slow traffic and the lulling drone of the car tried to put the kids to sleep.

Mr. Forger didn't speed. He drove safely and Damian eventually relaxed, not realizing he'd tensed when he got back into a car with him. Feeling less like he might die, Damian slumped into his seat.

He just still couldn't believe this was happening. Running from his father and leaving the dorm made it all too real. Was his life always going to be this stressful? He'd only known about telepathy, his father, and the labs for a short while and yet it was already consuming his life.

Damian sighed anxiously, suddenly noticing and disliking the perturbing sensation from his hand that he couldn't identify. It felt bare, like it was missing something, which was ridiculous. It was his hand, why was. . .

. . .

Damian studied it.

He flexed it.

And he tensed, feeling his face warm all the way down to his neck.

He was missing Forger's hand.

Because he had been holding it. Repeatedly. He'd been holding it just now before he had relaxed. He'd held it when they got out of the car earlier. After the car. When they got into this car.

And he hadn't even registered it.

He'd just done it. As if it was second nature.

He stared mortified at his traitorous hand.

How could he do something so utterly embarrassing!? How could he do something like that so thoughtlessly?! So mindlessly!? What was wrong with him?! He didn't need her hand! No! Heck no! He didn't! It was just—um—because—um—

Why did this bother him so much!? He'd held her hand before, this wasn't anything new! Sometimes friends did that!

. . .though, it was usually because something bad was happening. . .

He glanced at Forger who watched the sky out the window.

Damian was mortified with himself, but Forger hadn't let go either. She'd let him take her hand. She'd held his hand back and was entirely casual about it.

That was a good thing. This was progress. Forger was comfortable enough with him to hold his hand. This was way better than her avoiding him.

That was a good thing.

So why did it irk a part of his brain like a pebble stuck in an otherwise perfectly comfortable shoe?