Next chapter update will be on 11th Tuesday March.
"So, you're going?" Joe asked, surprise evident in his voice. He hadn't expected Sawyer to seek him out this morning, especially after the weight of what they were about to undertake settled upon them. He shifted in his chair, the worn leather creaking beneath him, still trying to wrap his mind around the fact that Sawyer, so young, had agreed to close the gate. The risks were immense, the potential consequences catastrophic. Joe knew this, and he'd seen the fear flicker in Sawyer's eyes, a fear that mirrored his own.
"Are you sure?" Joe asked again, the question hanging in the air, a plea disguised as inquiry. He needed to be absolutely certain. This wasn't a game; it was a desperate gamble with the fate of their world at stake.
Sawyer sipped his bubble tea, the straw rattling against the plastic cup. His eyes, usually bright and full of youthful mischief, were fixed on Joe, a storm of emotions swirling within their depths. Joe noticed his hand shaking slightly as he held the cup, a subtle tremor that betrayed the bravado he was trying to project. He was still scared, undeniably so, but something beyond the fear, a deeper resolve, was driving him forward.
"This is good," Joe said with a sigh of relief, the tension easing slightly from his shoulders. He'd half-expected Sawyer to dismiss the whole thing as a prank, a fleeting moment of madness, or to rush out of the room, overwhelmed by the sheer magnitude of the task ahead. But instead, Sawyer simply stood up, a small, almost hesitant smile playing on his lips.
"When are we leaving?" Sawyer asked, his voice firm despite the underlying nervousness. He was already by the door, ready to face whatever lay ahead.
"I'll get back to you on that," Joe replied, knowing he needed to finalize the arrangements quickly. Time was of the essence.
"Make it quick," Sawyer urged, a sense of urgency creeping into his tone. "We have only until the next dark day."
"The next dark day? That's five days from now," Joe said, the words a stark reminder of the rapidly approaching deadline.
"All the more reason to hurry," Sawyer added, adjusting his black jacket. Beneath it, he wore a red and blue striped long-sleeve shirt, a splash of color against the darkness, black tailored pants, and a pair of black panda dunk shoes. The contrast between his youthful attire and the grim task ahead was unsettling.
He walked out of the room, his footsteps echoing in the hallway, but paused before leaving. "Oh, I need a haircut," he added casually, as if preparing for a night out rather than a perilous mission.
Before Joe could respond, Sawyer was gone, disappearing around the corner.
Joe leaned back in his chair, the springs groaning in protest, but quickly lifted his head as Sarah, his ever-faithful companion, entered, her tail wagging furiously.
"What's up with Sawyer?" she asked, her brow furrowed with concern. "I just passed him down the hall, and he didn't laugh at any of my jokes. He barely even acknowledged me. What's going on?"
"Get your team ready," Joe replied, his voice low and serious. "We move out tonight."
Sarah stopped, her tail ceasing its rhythmic wagging. She stared at him blankly, her eyes wide with surprise. She blinked a couple of times, as if trying to process what he had just said.
"Are you serious?" she asked, the question laced with disbelief.
"Wait, you are?" she replied to herself, the realization dawning on her. A wide grin spread across her face, replacing the earlier concern. She turned and rushed down the hallway, her footsteps quick and light, clearly excited about the impending mission.
Joe took a deep breath, the air heavy in his lungs, pulled out his phone, and dialed a number he needed to make a crucial call.
Sawyer walked down the hall, offering half-hearted waves or nods to the few people he passed, his mind a whirlwind of conflicting emotions. He clutched his cup of bubble tea, the plastic cold against his trembling hand. He pushed open the door to his room, the lock clicking behind him, sealing him in a temporary sanctuary.
He collapsed onto the floor, landing heavily on his butt, the impact jarring him slightly. He took a few deep breaths, trying to regulate his racing heart. What was he thinking? This was insane. This was too risky, a suicide mission masked as a rescue operation. He couldn't do it, could he? The doubts gnawed at him, whispering insidious temptations of retreat.
He cupped his hands around his mouth, creating a small pocket of space, and took a deep breath, feeling the warm air blast against his palms. He needed to calm down, to regain control of his spiraling thoughts. He could do it, he had to. The weight of responsibility pressed down on him, a crushing burden for one so young.
He was going to have a team of experienced, trained fighters with him, he reminded himself. It wouldn't be just him facing the unknown. It would be a breeze—just go in, close the gate, and get out. A simple plan, fraught with unimaginable dangers.
Then, he could get his mom back, free her from whatever hell she was trapped in, and return to his normal life. But what would people think when they saw her? The question lingered, a dark cloud on the horizon of his hopes. No, they couldn't stay here. They could move somewhere else—maybe Pentos. It was a huge city; nobody would know him there, and he could attend medical school, finally pursue his dream. Yes, that was it. A fresh start, a new beginning.
"Are you okay?" A voice came from the other side of the door, breaking through his reverie. It was Sarah.
"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine," Sawyer replied, his voice strained and unconvincing.
"You sound like shit," she said bluntly, never one to mince words.
Sawyer could hear her sliding down the door, likely sitting on the ground on the other side. He imagined her leaning against the cool wood, her expression a mix of concern and determination.
"I know you're scared, Sawyer. It's normal," she added, her voice softening slightly.
"Yeah, thanks for the words of encouragement," he replied sarcastically, the bitterness creeping into his tone.
"No, I'm being honest," Sarah continued, ignoring his sarcasm. "I know you'll save the world. You look like the kind of kid who would. And I trust you. I'll protect you." Her words, simple yet powerful, hung in the air, a beacon of hope in the darkness of his fear.
Sawyer stayed silent, his mind reeling. He didn't know how to respond to Sarah's unexpected revelation. The air in the small room seemed to thicken, making it hard to breathe. He'd never even considered that Sarah might have known his mother. The thought was both intriguing and unsettling.
"I knew your mother," Sarah said softly, her voice filled with a hint of melancholy. The words hung in the air, heavy with unspoken meaning.
He heard the sound of Sawyer standing up, the chair scraping against the floor. He took a hesitant step forward, his legs feeling unsteady. He reached for the door handle, his hand trembling slightly. He turned the handle, the latch clicking softly, and pulled the door open. Sawyer stared at her, his eyes wide with disbelief, searching her face for any hint of deception. He needed to know if she was telling the truth.
"Get in," he said, his voice a mix of confusion and desperation. He needed answers, and he had a feeling Sarah held the key to unlocking the mysteries surrounding his mother.
"It looks good on you," Tod called out, a genuine smile gracing his lips. He watched as Maggie twirled, the fabric of the dress swirling around her.
"Good? Isn't 'beautiful' the word you're supposed to use?" Maggie asked, a playful glint in her eyes as she turned to showcase the dress. She smoothed the delicate fabric, admiring the way it draped against her figure.
It was a dark purple dress, rich and elegant, with delicate flower designs embroidered across the bodice and skirt. The elegant cut fit her perfectly, accentuating her curves in all the right places. It was a dress that spoke of another era, of whispered secrets and forgotten elegance.
"It looks more than that," Tod said, his voice filled with admiration. He offered his hand to help her down the staircase, the gesture both chivalrous and tender.
"It belonged to my mother," he added with a soft smile, his eyes momentarily clouding with a hint of sadness. The dress was more than just a piece of clothing; it was a tangible connection to his past, a reminder of the woman he had lost.
"Thank you for letting me use it," she said gratefully, her voice sincere. She knew how much the dress meant to him, and she appreciated his willingness to share it with her.
"It's better than storing it away," he replied, a touch of melancholy still lingering in his voice. He glanced at his phone, which was buzzing insistently in his pocket, but dismissed it with a flick of his wrist.
"Are you going to take that?" Maggie asked, her brow furrowed with concern. She sensed that something was troubling him.
"Not important," he replied, his attention refocusing on Maggie. He took her hand, leading her to a beautifully set table laden with an array of delectable dishes.
He adjusted her step, ensuring she was comfortable, and helped her sit down. Servants, dressed in crisp uniforms, moved around them efficiently, explaining each dish with practiced ease. Tod mentioned that the main course was rare meat from Weru Island, a delicacy he had procured especially for the occasion, but Maggie wasn't listening. Her gaze was fixed on Tod, her eyes filled with unspoken questions.
"What?" he asked playfully, a warm smile gracing his lips. He noticed her intense scrutiny and wondered what she was thinking.
She snapped back to reality, realizing she had been staring. A blush crept up her cheeks, and she quickly looked away, focusing on her plate instead.
Tod reached across the table and took her hand, his touch gentle and reassuring. "Is everything okay?" he asked gently, his eyes filled with concern.
"Yes, I'm fine. I'm just worried about Melinda," Maggie replied, her voice laced with anxiety. She placed her hands in her lap, her fingers nervously twisting together.
"How about you eat first, then I'll take you to see her?" Tod suggested, offering a compromise. He knew how important Melinda was to Maggie, and he wanted to ease her worries. Maggie nodded, accepting his offer. She picked up her fork and began to eat, trying to savor the flavors despite the knot of anxiety in her stomach.
The meal was exquisite, a culinary masterpiece. "Wonderful," Maggie commented as Tod led her down the hall, hand in hand. The warmth of his touch sent a comforting shiver through her.
"Not to brag, but we have the best chef in the world," Tod replied with a grin, a hint of pride in his voice.
"It's a big world, I'm afraid," Maggie replied, teasing him gently.
"I've been to most of it," Tod said casually, as if traveling the globe was an everyday occurrence.
"Really?" Maggie asked, her curiosity piqued.
"Yes, I travel a lot because of work and other things," he explained, keeping the details vague.
"And other things?" she pressed, wanting to know more about this enigmatic man.
"Work stuff," he replied with a wink, a playful glint in his eyes. "But we're not here to talk about that. We're here to talk about you."
Maggie raised an eyebrow, intrigued by his sudden shift in focus. "Me?"
"Yeah," he replied with a chuckle. "I don't even know your name."
Maggie smiled, feeling the lightness of the conversation wash over her. She glanced around, taking in the beauty of her surroundings. The garden was stunning, meticulously well-trimmed with exotic flowers she couldn't name, interspersed with fragrant roses.
"Are you sure you're not some prince or something?" she asked, giving him one last playful look. His elegant attire and the grandeur of the mansion made her wonder if he was hiding something.
Tod laughed, amused by her question. He plucked a single, perfect rose from a nearby bush and handed it to her. Maggie took it gently, bringing it to her nose and inhaling deeply. "It smells lovely," she commented, a soft smile tugging at her lips.
He nodded, leading her out of the garden and toward the other wing of the mansion. The atmosphere here was noticeably different. The walls were adorned with stark white wallpaper, and the air buzzed with a sense of urgency. It felt much busier than the serene space they had just left behind. They arrived at a large, imposing door, which swung open silently as they approached, as if by magic. Inside, they found Melinda lying on a large, ornate bed, a medical drip attached to her arm. The drip was filled with a sparkling, almost ethereal liquid, its glow casting an otherworldly light on the room.
"Magic infusion," Maggie murmured, her voice filled with relief as she walked up to Melinda, who was now conscious, though still sporting her usual frown. The tension that had gripped the room just moments before seemed to dissipate, replaced by a wave of shared relief.
"Too many people," Melinda said, her gaze sweeping over the room before settling on Maggie.
"I know, Mel. I'm sorry," Maggie replied, her voice thick with emotion. She rushed forward and hugged Melinda tightly, tears welling up in her eyes. "I thought I was going to lose you." The fear of losing her friend had been a crushing weight, and now, holding Melinda in her arms, she felt a wave of gratitude wash over her.
Melinda patted her head softly, a small, almost imperceptible smile playing on her lips. "It's alright, Margaret," she said with a faint laugh, a hint of her usual sass returning. "As you can see, I'm not dead." The playful reference to a popular movie brought a smile to Maggie's face amidst her tears.
Maggie laughed through her tears, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand as she gazed at Melinda, her heart overflowing with love and relief. Melinda's gaze shifted to Tod, who was standing nearby, watching them with a quiet intensity. She raised an eyebrow, a mischievous glint in her eyes.
"Who's the fried handsome chicken?" she asked, using their inside joke for attractive men. The familiar phrase, uttered in Melinda's usual blunt style, was a sign that she was truly back, her spirit unbroken.
Maggie burst out laughing once more, the sound light and joyful. Her heart felt lighter than it had in days. Melinda was really back, and everything was going to be alright.
Tod sat quietly in the chair, his gaze fixed on the bed where the girls slept. Maggie had curled up next to Melinda, holding her protectively, their breaths soft and even. He sighed softly, the weight of the day settling upon him. Despite the serene scene before him, his mind was racing, replaying the events of the past few hours. He had drifted off a few times, exhaustion pulling at him, but the slightest sound, the creak of a floorboard, the rustle of fabric, pulled him back to full awareness. He couldn't shake the feeling of unease.
He turned toward the door as it creaked open, rising silently to his feet. A servant stood there, an older man in his late sixties, always impeccably dressed in a pressed black suit and tie. His presence exuded an air of professionalism and quiet authority.
"Sir, you have a call," the butler said, holding out a sleek, black phone.
Tod nodded, taking the phone from him as he walked down the hall toward the garden, wanting to keep his conversation private.
"Hello?" Tod answered, his voice calm and measured.
"Tobby, where the hell have you been? I've been trying to reach you all day," a sharp, impatient voice barked on the other end.
"I'm home," Tod replied, glancing back down the hall. He caught sight of the butler standing at attention, a silent guardian, keeping watch near the girls' room.
"We've got a job. The team's prepping a portal for you now," the voice continued, brooking no delay.
"A portal? No, I'm not coming tonight," Tod said, shaking his head. The thought of leaving Maggie and Melinda, especially after what they had just been through, was unthinkable. "I'll join you in the morning."
"Morning might be too late," the voice warned, a hint of menace creeping into the tone.
"Then find someone else," Tod shot back, his voice firm and unwavering. His tone was resolute, leaving no room for argument. His thoughts drifted to Maggie, her face pale and drawn with worry. "I've got my hands full."
"Tobby," the voice said, softer now but laced with disbelief. "Are you walking away? After everything?" The question hung in the air, heavy with unspoken accusations and recriminations.
"Yes," Tod said, his voice resolute. "I'm done. I want out. Take what you have and walk away too. Don't call me again." He had made his decision, and he wasn't going to waver.
He ended the call abruptly, cutting off any further protest. For a moment, he stood there, staring at the phone in his hand, a symbol of the life he was leaving behind. Then he walked back to the butler and handed it to him.
"I assume this means I should cancel your flight tonight?" the butler asked, his tone calm and composed, betraying no surprise.
"Cancel it forever. And destroy that phone," Tod replied, his voice firm and decisive. He was severing all ties to his past life.
The butler arched a brow, a flicker of concern in his eyes. "The client is a dangerous one. Are you sure?"
Tod smiled faintly, his confidence unwavering. "Nothing I can't handle." He had faced down danger before, and he wasn't afraid.
Without another word, he turned and walked back to the girls' room. He paused outside the door, his hand hovering over the handle. Thoughts raced through his mind—the life he had led, the choices he had made, the weight of it all. He wasn't a perfect man, far from it. He had made mistakes, hurt people, and lived a life shrouded in secrecy. But everyone deserved a second chance, a chance to redeem themselves.
He wanted to be better, a better man for Maggie, for Melinda, for himself. If not for himself, then for Maggie. He wanted to be someone she could rely on, someone she could trust. He opened the door quietly and stepped inside, his gaze settling on the two sleeping figures on the bed. He was home.
She was a sweet girl, a genuine soul, and she deserved everything good life had to offer. Tod didn't know much about Maggie yet, their connection still fresh and new, but he knew enough to want to be a better man—not just for himself, to atone for his past, but for her, for the light she brought into his life, and for everything she stood for. He saw in her a purity, a kindness, that he had long forgotten existed.
He took a deep breath, the air filling his lungs with a newfound sense of purpose, pushed the door open, and stepped inside, only to bump straight into Maggie. She stumbled back, losing her balance, her eyes widening in surprise, but he caught her effortlessly, his reflexes honed from years of training. He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close, preventing her from falling.
"I got you," Tod said with a grin, his heart pounding in his chest. The close contact, the feel of her in his arms, sent a jolt of electricity through him.
"You sure do," Maggie replied, her initial surprise melting into a playful, almost seductive smile. She leaned into him slightly, her eyes sparkling. "But if you don't mind, you could help me up now." The playful banter masked a deeper connection, a shared understanding that was growing between them.
Tod laughed, the sound genuine and warm. He gently lifted her back onto her feet, his hands lingering on her arms for a moment longer than necessary. "There you go."
"Thank you," she said softly, her gaze locking with his.
"Don't mention it," he replied, his voice low and husky.
"I woke up and you weren't here," Maggie said, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear, her movements a touch nervous. "Thought I'd come save you." There was a hint of teasing in her voice, but he could also sense a genuine concern.
"Client troubles," Tod replied casually, wanting to downplay the seriousness of the situation. "But it's all resolved now." He didn't want to burden her with the details of his past life, the dangerous world he was trying to leave behind.
"Oh," Maggie said softly, fidgeting with the hem of her dress, her unease apparent.
"Maggie?" Tod prompted gently, sensing her hesitation.
"Tod?" she echoed, her voice barely a whisper.
They both spoke at the same time, the awkward silence that followed broken by nervous laughter. They exchanged smiles, a silent acknowledgment of the connection between them.
"You go first," Tod offered, gesturing towards her with a gentle sweep of his hand.
"No, you go," Maggie insisted, her eyes sparkling with amusement.
"Jezz, both of you, get a room!" Melinda groaned from the bed, her voice dripping with sarcasm. She was awake, watching their awkward dance with a mixture of amusement and exasperation.
They both laughed, the sound echoing through the room, breaking the tension that had been building between them. Tod stretched out his hand toward Maggie, waiting for her to take it. She turned to glance at Melinda, who gave her an exaggerated thumbs-up with her remaining hand, a silent encouragement.
Smiling, Maggie placed her hand in Tod's. His fingers closed around hers, his touch warm and reassuring. He led her toward the door, glancing back at Melinda with a soft grin.
"How about we go out? Just you and me," Tod suggested as they stepped into the hallway, the quiet of the night enveloping them.
"That would be lovely," Maggie replied, her smile warm and genuine. The promise of spending time alone with Tod filled her with anticipation. She was eager to get to know him better, to explore the connection that was growing between them.