The Truth Hurts (Sept 8)

[Snick]

Roughly half an hour after Pratt left the dance as a one-man search party, he appeared inside of the lighthouse tower, at the bottom of the stairs, wearing Siobhan's robe with both fists up with middle fingers extended. "-K YOU," he completed his special sentiment for the lantern light that transported him while tears of rage and panic streaked his pallid face. From where he'd been snagged, even he wasn't sure. In a blind panic, he'd headed away from the campus, into a densely forested section of the island. Pratt could swear the disgusting person/thing that took Siobhan left a scent trail that didn't require the keen sense of a dog's nose. The culprit was undoubtedly long gone, however, probably having disapparated the moment they were outside of the anti-disapparition charm.



Immediately, he attempted to exit. Locked. "Let me out!" his fists pounded the door desperately. "I have to find her! How could you let this happen?! You're supposed to protect us, keep us safe! But you can't! You're just a fucking light! A giant, useless fucking lamp!" With a few more strikes and a swift kick to the door, Phrixos let loose a half-growl, half-shout of frustration. Through the small rectangle window, a stream of light fell upon his watch.



"What, is it past curfew? I don't care, lemme go!" he shouted up toward the lantern. Then a ten pound dumbbell fell at his feet, narrowly missing his toes. "Are you calling me dumb? I don't have time for these stupid games!" The dumbbell was replaced with a bathroom scale. "I need to diet? Lose weight?" The light cast upon the scale seemed to grow brighter. "Weight. Wait? You want me to wait?" The number on the scale read '435' - YES.



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On the beam of the lighthouse, Siobhan went flying into his open arms, head still hooded, hands tied behind her back and fingers covered in what she could only assume was blood from someone's ear, but she was unharmed. She could smell it was Pratt. She could feel his warmth. "I'm home."



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Tired of standing, Pratt had settled onto the stairs to wait, as the lighthouse demanded. Pop! Someone was in his arms, bound with their head hidden under a full hood. He screamed like a little girl, wanting to toss the figure down like it was a cobra that had fallen into his arms. Then he heard her speak. "Oh, God. Siobhan, you're alright. Don't worry, I've got you," Phrixos squeezed her gently before he set her on her feet, pulled the hood off, and unbound her hands. Her bloody hands. "You're hurt?"



His face paled. He knew it was too good to be true, that she would be returned unharmed. What had they done to her? Where did the blood come from? She didn't seem to have any injuries.



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"I'm not hurt. This isn't my blood. Where's Lorccan? They said they put his ear in my hands, that they had him too." She looked at her hands, trembling. "I just want the blood off me. I want you to hold me. I didn't talk, I didn't tell them anything, but they gave me veritaserum, a lot of it, too much, that's when the light came and saved me, and I may not be able to shut up for awhile. I'm afraid. I was brave, because I'm an O'Brien and that's what we damned ballsy Irish do, to quote my dad," she said, blushing at using his words, "but I didn't want to be, and I'm worried about Lorccan, and if they cut off his ear it's my fault, but I kept telling myself they didn't have him and I need to find out where he is right away, and you'd better kiss me to shut me up, but my kiss might taste like throw up, because I was really afraid, and it made my stomach a little sick inside, and I hope it didn't come up in my mouth, but everybody is going to be worried. We have to let them know I'm all right." Feebly she waved her hands, frustrated with her inability to shut up, as the potion was suddenly overwhelming her senses.



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"I don't kn- Then let's g- I was going to, bu-" Pratt couldn't get a word in sideways, so he stopped trying. When Siobhan finally stopped, it took a moment for everything she said to sink in. He had wanted to hold and kiss her, until he saw the blood. Now he knew it wasn't hers. But it was still there. Well, it was already on the robe from when she landed in his arms, so it was already ruined - what was a little more blood?



But she was on Veritaserum, what effect would that have, if any? Did he want to hear the possible truth that he was a horrible kisser? That his breath was stinky? That his mouth tasted like spew? He would just need to take that chance, he could handle the truth. Besides, he wouldn't be able to explain to her that he didn't know if Lorccan was kidnapped or not because he went combing the island for her while she was jabbering without pause.



Wait, what was he thinking? That wasn't important. Well, it was, but not in comparison to where she'd been taken and by who. Again, she wouldn't shut up long enough for him to ask. Relief with a sharp edge of aggravation was in the motions of his body and lips as he cupped both sides of her face and pressed his mouth to hers roughly. "Please shut up so I can tell you how worried I was," he gently held her bottom lip between his teeth and whispered through them. "And that I don't know where Lorccan is. I want to know who took you so I can kill them."



She didn't taste like vomit. She tasted like what he assumed was veritaserum. He, however, probably tasted very saline-like. That's what his own lips tasted like to him, anyway. One reason he hated crying. He didn't do it often, nor did he use much salt in his food, so it was a very unpleasant taste to him and made him thirsty.



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"You taste like tears. You cried for me? I think that's the most touching thing anyone who wasn't my family has ever done. Maybe anyone." It made her cry.



"I am trying to slow down. I talk fast when I'm anxious, and this serum makes me spill the truth. They gave me so much of it. The fat one was mad at the lazy woman for giving me almost the whole bottle when she was supposed to give me only a little. They forced it past my lips while they plugged my nose. I never saw them. I never heard their names. They port-keyed me away to a cold room with a steel chair. They threatened to hurt Lorccan to make me talk, and when that didn't work, they gave me the serum. That's when the Lighthouse saved me. That's all I know."



She put her arms around him and hugged him tightly."Please, I have to wash my hands, and tell people I'm okay, and find Lorccan, and then I have to find my wand, and get warm. I'm so cold. That room was freezing. How long do you think a whole bottle of veritaserum will take to wear off? People might be able to get me to spill my gutts for a long time . . ." She squeezed him. "Someone could take advantage of that. You even.''



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Phrixos nodded, but he didn't seem proud of crying. Men didn't cry.



"The fat one is the one that took you," he murmured, recalling the feel of sausage-like fingers spread over his face, nearly suffocating him. Pratt rubbed her back and kissed her temple. "Maybe you should stay here. With Makepeace and Arwen. I'll go get Mr. Castilla. You can tell him what happened, and he can tell everyone else. I don't want- I can't risk- Please."



Pratt didn't know who to trust. The last thing he wanted was for Siobhan to be snatched up again by whoever allowed the lard ass into the dance so they could finish whatever job that had been started. He was having trouble breathing just thinking about it. He took off her robe and held it out for her to put on. That would solve the problem of the cold and the wand. He didn't know what to do about finding Lorccan.



"A few drops lasts how long? Quarter of an hour or something? I dunno, it will probably be worn off by morning," he hoped he was right, or better, that it wouldn't even take that long. "Don't tempt me, Siobhan. There are a lot of things I want to know, but they're trivial. It's much more important to me to get you somewhere safe and warm and get to the bottom of all of this." And get vengeance, he added mentally.



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Siobhan fumbled with the robe but she wasn't focusing. "Stay here. Don't leave without me. Please, I mean it. I can't have you leave me. There's a reason the light brought me to you. I need to be with you. Please, take me with you, but don't leave me!" Siobhan started breathing rapidly, panicking for the first time in her life. She grabbed his hand and held it too tightly and felt tears pooling in her eyes. "I'm so embarrassed. I don't know why I'm acting this way. But don't go!"



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"Breathe, Ginger. Please. I'm panicked enough for the both of us," her grip, though he tried not to show it hurt, brought the sting of tears to the very corners of his eyes. "I won't leave you. Someone else can get Castilla. I'll stay with you until you get tired of me and make me leave."



How he was going to do that at bed time, he didn't know, but he would figure something out. "Shhh," Pratt lifted her chin and furrowed his brow. "You've been traumatized. It's alright to freak out."



A very gentle kiss was pressed to her lips. "I'm not going anywhere. I promise," he pulled her close. "I... I care too much to let you out of my sight any time soon."



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''We can tell him together. In the common room. Arwen and Makepeace too. I want to sleep together tonight." She envisioned shrinking the tables and chairs in the common room and pulling all the mattresses into the common room so that they could all sleep in there, Castilla too, if he would. She wanted all of her pack with her. She hoped they could find Lorccan and include him, but she knew as a non keeper he wouldn't be allowed, and she would have to fight to even get all the keepers in one room. But she was an O'Brien and a pack animal by upbringing--the keepers were her pack now, and in distress, she retreated to her pack.



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Phrixos envisioned something completely different. Something with bare skin and sweat, moans and tangled limbs. Absolute terror filled his eyes. Clutching at his chest, he took a step back. "You.. you... you want to... to what?" he stammered, he couldn't breathe.



"Siobhan, I... I'm not ready for... that," he was having a heart attack, he knew it. He couldn't believe she was ready. Maybe it was the kidnapping. Things like that made people think about how short life is and how they should carpe diem and whatnot.



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Siobhan suddenly realized what he thought she meant. "Oh no, not have sexual intercourse, that's for marriage," thank you veritaserum for bluntness, she thought, rolling her eyes. "I meant all four of us, and maybe Castilla too, should sleep in the common room tonight. We can shrink the common room furniture and bring in our mattresses and stay together tonight in the common room. It's what my family does in times of crisis. We all share a room. I need to have all of you close. I need you and Makepeace and Arwen all in the same room tonight, probably for the next several nights. I don't care about the rules."



She shivered, "Even little things, like when my father beat up Lorccan for his bad grades, he and I spent the night curled up together on his bedroom floor." Her face grew red. "Please don't tell. My father isn't a bad man. He just doesn't know how to do things sometimes. I never would have told that if it weren't for the serum."



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"Ohthankgod," a great gush of air rushed from his lungs like a deflating balloon. "I'm sorry... I mean, not that it would be the worst thing in the world or anything. I mean, how telling was it that that was my immediate thought... And I'm going to shut up now."



His face was as red as hers. Sexual intercourse was such a clinical and awkward phrase. He didn't care for it, and she apparently didn't either. "I think they would make an exception this time," he said, then his face turned angry. "I know plenty about fathers that 'aren't bad men', Siobhan. Has he ever hit you? NO, don't answer that. I don't want you to have no choice in telling me. Let's go."



Pratt headed for the door.



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"You already asked. "NO, he's never hit me or any of my sisters. What else do you want to know? Or are you afraid to know the answer?" She took his hand and let him lead her up the stairs. " I wouldn't be too worried, if i were you. I've always had a thing for funny guys."



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"Good. If he ever lays a finger on you..." Pratt ground his teeth and flared his nostrils, willing himself not to finish that sentence. The man was still her father, and she obviously didn't think he's a monster deserving of a good pummeling. What was with these girls and their fathers? How could they still love and respect them when they were such horrible parents?



Afraid? Terrified. She wanted him to ask questions. Fine. "Funny guys... Like Walker?" he asked, leading her out of the tower and toward the keepers' quarters outbuilding. That he wasn't and would never be the only person to have a pet nickname for her, he understood, but that didn't curb his jealousy.

[Snick]

"I wish my dad knew how to raise boys without raising his fists. He doesn't do it often. He has a bad temper. With girls he just yells, but he lets mom discipline us. He loves us, he just doesn't know how to do it. But when he hurt Lorccan, I was ready take the blows myself if it would stop Dad from hitting him. It's why Mom locked me in my room." She shook her head, wanting the memory to go away. She wanted to think of better things, happier things.

"I like Walker, but Walker has no sense of humor. The funniest thing he ever said was misreading my name as soybean. No, I like funny guys like you, Gilligan, at least once you became funny. You didn't used to be funny. You used to be like Patrick but without being a player."

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"You didn't like me?" He didn't like himself back then, either, so why did it hurt to hear that? "I liked you then. I haven't changed, you just didn't bother to get to know me beyond the person my dad made me pretend to be. Ask Patrick and Iris, they knew the real me before everyone else."

Pratt was sulking when they crossed the threshold of the quarters building. Had anyone other than his siblings made an effort to learn about Phrixos, the boy, rather than Phrixos, the heir? He didn't think so. "Anyway. Pat the Brat, a player?" he scoffed. All other questions he had on queue were squashed with his mood.

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Siobhan sighed. "I liked you the way I like Walker, but I didn't like you romantically . . . I didn't think about you as I went to sleep at night, the way I do now. Please don't sulk. I've never felt about any boy the way I do about you. I see myself with you even after we graduate Salem. Oh my gosh! I can't believe I said that. Stupid serum!" She turned scarlet.

"But it wasn't until you were funny that I really noticed you romantically. I thought you were too rich to care about a girl like me. Rich boys don't bother with girls who grow up in big Catholic families in houses above bars . . . but funny boys do. I judged you by your money and your name. I judged me by my station in life and that stupid bar. I know better now. I'm all of fourteen now."

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"You do? Like... marriage?" His mind went to her previous statement and his face turned red, too. Pratt didn't know if he could imagine that far ahead. The hope to stay together forever was there, but he just couldn't see forever. It was far too early, less than a week into the relationship, and it was so rare that high school sweethearts stayed together through high school, let alone for life. He wasn't going to disillusion himself into thinking he and Siobhan were any different. Not yet.

"I was rich and in the spotlight and had anything I could ever want, except the one thing I wanted. But my dad would have never approved, his son getting involved with, as you said, a girl like you. And the tabloids would have had a field day. He still wouldn't approve, but I don't care anymore, and Patrick's the one that's got to worry about the paparazzi now. He's the front page news, I'm just a sidenote on the rare occasion that I'm mentioned at all. If that was still an issue, I wouldn't have asked you out. I wouldn't have put you through that. My dad's all but disowned me and I'm out of my grandfather's will, I have nothing to lose and everything to gain," Pratt traversed the hallway, clutching her hand tightly, and called for the other keepers. "Makepeace? Arwen?"

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Makepeace appeared in the hallway almost instantly, wand drawn and ready to be aimed... He might not be the best duelist in the school, but nobody was getting past him to grab Arwen. But as he saw who was there, he lowered the wand, although he had no intentions of putting it away. "Pratt? Siobhan?" He was really slightly amazed that Pratt had managed to rescue the girl, but then, her kidnapping might just have been some kind of a legacy joke. "Siobhan, are you alright? Pratt, where did you find her, or was this something your stooge buddies dreamed up?"

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Arwen had been sitting in the lighthouse common room wishing that Siobhan was okay. She knew they had not spent that much time together before having been picked to become a keeper; however when they have become roommate Arwen had been able to know her more. She though about the warning Makepeace had told all of them and the fact that this then happened. She then was worried about Pratt since he ran off in a hurry freaked out so she hope he was safe also.

She moved to follow Makepeace down the hallway when their names were both called. If it was something else they would have been safer having both of them together then split up. When she seen who it was calling her name she been relieved to see both of them here. "Your back that is great."

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SIobhan hugged Arwen, being careful not to touch her with her hands. "I'm back. The lighthouse saved me. It put me right back into Pratt's arms, where I was pulled from. He would never have done this to me. This was no prank and don't you ever insinuate it was, Makepeace!" she scolded. "Some ham fisted creepy wizard took me and hooded me and tied up my hands and put Lorccan's ear..." she looked at her bloody hands again . . . and started crying . . ."I have to wash my hands, I hope it wasn't Lorccan's ear. Where's Lorccan?" She let the tears fall because she didn't want to touch her face with her blood encrusted hands.

"I wouldn't answer their questions. They couldn't make me. So they forced me to drink nearly a whole bottle of veritaserum, and now you can ask me anything, and I can't lie, and I can't shut up, and that's why the lighthouse saved me, so I couldn't answer their questions. Please, we have to tell Mr. Castilla that I'm okay so that he can tell the others, then we can start moving the beds." She ended with a great gulp of air and a sniffle, the serum and her sense of being overwhelmed still very much in effect.

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Pratt released Siobhan so she could hug Arwen, and looked at the mostly-dried blood on his hand. Maybe it wasn't Lorccan's. Maybe it wasn't human. Maybe it wasn't even real blood. His jaw clenched and he stepped up to Makepeace with his chest puffed out. All ten fingers flexed and relaxed repeatedly at his sides. He was far too wound up for comments like that. Every nerve ending in his body was like a live wire.

"You know what, Makepeace? F-" he paused, feeling as if he were in a daytime-aired R movie with badly dubbed replacements for curse words. "Forget you. I wouldn't do that, and I wouldn't let the other Stooges do that, especially not to her. Screw you for suggesting I would."

He wanted to push or punch or spit at the pretentious asshole in front of him - something. But he didn't, for Siobhan's sake. And he hated himself for it. He hated that he put a filter on his words and actions around her. It was out of respect, but he didn't feel like he was being genuine. And saying words like 'crap', 'screw you', and 'darn', and holding back when he wanted to wail on someone also made him feel like a weakling. These thoughts, passing through his mind in the blink of an eye, just made him angrier and he reared back a fist. The punch wasn't thrown at Makepeace, however. Pratt turned and busted his knuckles on the wall.

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Makepeace looked between Siobhan and Pratt, his eyes narrowing and hands curling into fists, as well. "You think you're the only one who gets to be upset, Pratt? Think you got the market cornered on caring about Siobhan? None of us could see what happened, and the shit they used to make the room go dark? Peruvian instant darkness powder? They sell it at joke shops." Much as he wanted to knock out a few of Pratt's teeth, he forced himself to walk away, moving to the counter and picking up a notepad that was there, scribbling out messages to Castilla, the principal and Esther.

"They're going to want to ask you a whole lot of questions, Siobhan." He said as he wrote, his voice a whole lot gentler than it was when he addressed Pratt. "I'm pretty sure it's all going to be the same thing. Maybe you should write out everything you remember so you're not having to answer the same questions over and over again. I'm going to request that Castilla bring Lorccan over, and that they wait until the truth potion passes before asking you anything about what happened. Lighthouse, can you bring me three owls, please?" He asked, looking up from his writing to see if it would comply. And it did, within moments, three Elf owls appearing on the counter in front of him.

Makepeace folded up the letters and tied them to the owls' legs, then opened the window. They needed little other instruction, and flapped their way out of the common room without any more urging than that.

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She looked at Pratt's hand, worried, and turned to Makepeace again, frustrated. ''I don't care if it was made from whoopee cushions, he wouldn't hurt me, and you of all people should know that, Makepeace. You and Arwen are the only ones who know about us. So I think you should apologize to him."

Siobhan was still crying a little and didn't dare wipe her eyes with her gross blood-caked hands. She held them out in front of her. "Arwen, will you help me, please? I don't know where my wand is. I'll write the letter as soon as my hands are clean. Then I just want to be with the three of you. I need you all to get along, because I can't be alone right now. I need all of you. You're my keeper family. I don't think I can make it tonight if I don't have all three of you."

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Arwen smiled a little seeing that her roommate was actually safe and not hurt. She went to hug Siobhan back as she listen to everything that happened. The lighthouse really was a great place since she heard about the different things but it had known where Siobhan had been before even the teachers had figures it out. This was worrisome since if they could have got into the school this quick what stop them from doing it again. "Well I am glad that you are here and safe. We were worried about everything that happen."

She though about where Lorrcan might have been. She had not seen him since the whole dance incident and he left earlier that day. "Sure I can go with you to help wash your hands. Then we can get you into some different clothes and head back down here. I can get you something to drink."

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"I. Didn't. Say. It was him!" Makepeace said, not looking up at Siobhan. "It just... Look, it doesn't make sense for someone to come into the school with the sort of magical wards they have in place, and kidnap you, when there are other, richer kids around whose parents would pay out their ass to get them back, and who wouldn't put up as much of a fight. You have permission to go to Salem on the weekends, right? Why didn't they wait and grab you there, when there aren't magical wards to prevent disapperation? This makes no sense, so I thought maybe it was some dumbfuck prank that went way too far."

"And don't you think for one second... For one second that I wasn't worried about you, Siobhan." he said, the look on his face thunderous and angry, his normally pale skin flushed an angry red with emotions. "I'd love to find the ones who did this and kick the unholy living shit out of them."

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"What the hell are you talking about? I know I'm not the only one that cares. Who said you couldn't be upset?" Pratt was alternating between shaking his hand in the air and blowing across the stinging, busted skin. "I don't care if you're upset or not. I care that you attacked my character and those of my friends and Legacy mates. You don't even know me, and you don't know them. We get up to a lot of shenanigans, mostly with each other, but we don't do things that put the whole school in a panic."

Pratt pushed past Makepeace and Arwen, heading down the hallway for the boys' room. He needed to clean his knuckles (hopefully none were broken) and clear his head. "It's in your pocket, Siobhan," he said, blowing across his knuckles as he walked.

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At Arwen's suggestion of clean pajamas, the girls retreated to their room where Siobhan let Arwen help her clean up her hands and change into her old, mint green, flannel pajamas and thick socks, then let Arwen braid her hair into two loose braids, rather like Esther's. It made her feel like a little girl, but she didn't really care, Siobhan just needed Arwen to stay close. She was relieved to find her wand was in the pocket of the robe.

"Thank you, Arwen. I hope you're okay with all of us moving our mattresses into the common room tonight. I need to keep everyone close. I can't be alone. I need you to be my sister for now. I hope Lorccan's alive. I hope he has both ears. He'd look awful with only one ear. His hat wouldn't sit right at all." Siobhan slapped her now clean hand over her mouth. "I hate this stupid serum. I say every idiotic thing I think of." Her eyes darted to the window and the dark night outside. Her heart rate speeded up. "I need to go into the common room. No windows there. Now." She grabbed her blanket and pillow and tried not to run to the door.

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Arwen smiled as she spent the time with Siobhan getting her cleaned up from everything that had happened tonight when she had been kidnapped. She let Siobhan talk to her about how she had needed to have her in there with everyone else and to have been like a sister. “I promise I will be your sister right now. If I not very good at it though you will have to help me out since you’re used to being a sister to Lorccan. My parents did not have any other children so was only child. “

Arwen could tell that Siobhan was not doing really well with everything then seeing the darkness from window. She walked over to Siobhan and hugged her again. “How about we work on getting your mattress down to the common room and then we can stay there. I mean I don’t mind staying on the couch since most likely won’t sleep too much.”

[Snick]

Pratt rinsed his hand with cold water, then splashed some on his face. Slicking his hands through his hair, he stared at his hateful reflection in the mirror for a moment before grabbing the first aid kit from a shelf. Sitting on the closed toilet, he dug through the contents for something to heal his knuckles. They didn't seem broken, but were definitely bruised, scraped, and split open in a few places.

The items he needed, he found, and fixed up his injury as well as he could. It was sloppy, but it would do. Phrixos started to return the kit to its rightful place but paused. The kit also included common potions that were available without a prescription and typically didn't have any extreme side effects other than perhaps drowsiness. Click. He locked the door. He stared at a bottle in his hands for what seemed like forever before he thought he heard someone approaching. The bottle was fumbled a few times before he finally caught it securely and shoved it into the first aid kit and hurriedly put the kit away.

Sighing, he unlocked and exited the bathroom door and started preparing his bed for relocation.

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"I think I'm beginning to see a pattern emerge."

"Hmm?"

"Häagen-Dazs, Ben and Jerry's, Twinkies, Chocodiles, that bag of mixed little chocolate bars? And you in your pajamas? You've had a really bad breakup."

"Can I also get a pack of Marlboro Gold 100's?"

"I'd need to see ID for that."

"I left it at home." Makepeace lied, rubbing at his eye with the palm of his hand.

"Sorry, man. Law's the law." Said the clerk apologetically. "That's twenty-five fifty three."

"Yeah." Makepeace said, looking at the digital readout, and then pulling a couple twenties out of his pocket. At least the lighthouse had given him enough money for this little trip. "Thanks anyway." He said, reaching out to take hold of the bulging bags of junk food and heft them.

"You have a good night, man. Hope you feel better soon."

"Yeah, thanks." Makepeace said with a nod, heading for the doors. As he slipped out, he ducked behind one of the pillars at the grocery store and checked the ashtrays for a cigarette that didn't look gnawed on and found one that was broken and hadn't been lit. Score. He picked it up and held it in his unburdened hand before moving out into the parking lot and away from Muggle eyes. Right on cue, a beam from the Lighthouse caught him up and swept him back to the little spit of land that the lighthouse rested on, and Makepeace pulled out his wand, repairing the cigarette. Placing it between his lips, he quickly lit it, and took a few puffs before coughing and hacking. Ugh. Menthol. Still, he took a few more disgusted drags before tossing the cigarette to the ground and vanishing it, then walked towards the house. He quickly performed a scouring charm on his face and hand, and inside his mouth before heading inside -- he didn't want to catch any flak for smoking. "I come bearing junk food."

As he said this, one of the elf owls took roost on his shoulder, with a note around its leg. "Careful there, little dude." He said, setting the bag down on the coffee table before reaching up and untying the note from the owl's leg. He then sat down on one of the couches and read through the note, a frown appearing on his face.

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Siobhan reentered the common room, looking at Makepeace curiously. "Where did you go?" She pulled her mattress in with her blankets and pillow on top of it, not even bothering to use magic, the energy needed to do the work being good for her, she figured.

Once she pulled it into the room, she started pushing the table against the wall so her mattress could go into the middle. She wanted to be in the center of a windowless room with people around her where no dark could find her. "Makepeace, I know you care about me. I'm sorry I gave you a hard time. It's the stupid serum. I got a lot of it. Do you think I should write the letter now, or wait until morning? Are you bringing your bed in too? Pratt's getting his."

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Arwen seeing that Siobhan had gotten her mattresses had moved to grab and bring hers into the room. After everything that had happens she did not believe that she would get really any sleep at all but if she did it would be good idea to have it in already. Siobhan said she needed all of her fellow keepers in the room with her tonight. After laying her mattress down near one of the corners at moment she could tell that something happen since Makepeace had a frown on his face and it looked as if he had been gone.

She believed that it would be best to right the letter before, however she read enough books to know that sometimes right after the incident you did not remember everything because of shock. She started to move towards the drink area to work on getting them drinks since something warm always made her feel better. “Siohban, Makepeace would you like something to drink while I am getting me something? What do you think that Pratt would want?”

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"A bottle of spiced rum," Pratt said dryly as he ambled in, his mattress floating along in front of him with pillow and blanket piled on top. "But in lieu of that, I'll take a soda."

Dropping his mattress carefully on the floor (he would move it when the arrangement of beds was decided) and putting his wand in his pocket, he looked to Makepeace. "That was quick," he said of what he assumed was a reply from one of the owls Makepeace sent. "Doesn't look like good news."

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"Lighthouse sent me to the ice cream aisle of a grocery store in Boston." Makepeace explained, nodding towards the bags of ice cream and junk food. "Nothing for me, Arwen." He said, nodding slightly at Pratt. "It's from Castilla. They can't find Lorccan. He's not in the dorms, or in the school building, and none of the Legacies have reported letting him in. When Llewellyn last reported in, he was on his way to where you'd been taken, Siobhan, in Michigan. Until he gets back they can't run a trace on your brother. Castilla wants us to stay put. Duh." he said, shaking his head at the sentiment.

"Castilla says the lighthouse is acting strange. It's not letting anyone over here, not even the principal. He thinks it's being a little over-protective right now. He expects us to be on our very best behavior until he can get here, blah blah..."

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"Can't the lighthouse look for him? Can't it send us to look for him?" Siobhan's voice went up in pitch. "Mother in heaven, what have I done?" she sat down on her mattress and tucked herself into a ball, picturing Lorccan being tortured. "I wouldn't talk. I wouldn't tell them anything. What if they really have him? What if that really was his ear?"
''LIGHTHOUSE, PLEASE, Find a way to tell me they haven't got him, Please. Let me know he's off being stupid, or hiding, or feckin' with his dark magic, or anything, but let me know they haven't got him!!!" she yelled, standing up on her mattress and looking up towards the tower. (and not noticing that she had just let slip another secret, one she had even kept her knowledge of from Lorccan)

A warm beam of light seemed to stroke her cheek sympathetically, then a striped bass with a broken line and a hook in its mouth fell through the light and landed near her feet. "A fish? a fish . . . mother of god! A fish? Lorccan went fishing? People are worrying themselves sick and that evil fat wizard is cutting off people's ears and coating my hands in blood and he's off having a fishing trip? I hope he runs a hook through his thumb! Thank you, Lighthouse!"

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"He's always wandering around somewhere, I'm sure he's here," Pratt moved into the kitchenette area to unpack the groceries and help Arwen with drinks. "No adults here? Well, that'll make our little sleepover much easier to pull off."

He watched Siobhan freak out, moving forward, then moving back, unsure if he should do something, if anything. Did she say 'feckin'? Pratt resembled a skittish animal. He mouthed the words 'dark magic' questioningly, looking alarmed and confused. When the lighthouse told her, in its own way, that Lorccan was fine, he finally crossed the room and put an arm around her shoulders. "I told you so."

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Arwen listen to what Makepeace had said about them not knowing where Lorccan was at. She had hoped that all the teachers would find a way to make sure that none of those people would ever be able to make it back to the school again to take another student. What were they wanted to know so bad that they took Siobhan and lied to her about her brother and then forced a truth serum down her throat.

She stood in the kitchenette area moving to make some hot tea for herself. She knew that the other night Siobhan drank hot cocoa so it was the best thing to work on getting her. Arwen had been relieved when they had seen the fish and saw that Lorccan was fine somewhere and the others had not gotten him. She moved now into the room to sit on one of the couches along the wall. “Yes the sleepover would be easier to pull off, but I sure that as long as we did nothing wrong they would allow it after what happened. Siobhan I have some hot cocoa whenever you are ready for it.”

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"I'm not ready for cocoa unless you have a shot of good Irish whiskey to put in it." Siobhan put her palm to her forehead. She couldn't believe she said that. "Or just the whiskey." Worse and worse. Her face reddened. "I'm not a drinker. I mean, I've tasted it, but I've never been drunk or even had a glass just for myself, I promise . . . it just sounds really good right now, and I'm babbling again, sorry."

She leaned into Pratt. "I'm glad you were right. That my careless brother wasn't anywhere near those cretins. My dad will be furious. Probably punch him if he gets a chance."

She took Pratt's hand, then looked at each of them slowly. ''There's something I want to know. The question they asked me. How did they know the lighthouse had a warning? How did they know the lighthouse had a special warning this year? Someone told them. They wanted to know which keeper was given the warning, and what the warning was. So Castilla told the faculty there was a warning, but not what the warning was, or who it was given to specifically. But someone on the faculty told one of them, or is one of them. How else could they have come here for our dance?"

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Makepeace took out his wand and summoned a drawing pad and a pencil. Drawing was how he channeled his emotions, and if he wasn't going to be able to smoke, then he should probably do something constructive. "I suppose that would all depend on how many people would be told about the warning. Does it stop at the faculty? Does it go to governmental bureaus? I have a hard time suspecting any of the teachers, but the Lighthouse isn't letting any of them come over here right now." He said, idly sketching. "It's not plucking them out of the school and dumping them in the ocean, either."

He had a frustrated look on his face as his pencil scritched against the paper. "It's precognitive, but it's not all-knowing or all-powerful. I kinda feel like we're in an old Lassie TV show. 'What's that you say, Lighthouse? Timmy fell down a well?' I'm half tempted to go out to the city tomorrow and get a Ouija board or something." Just then, two owls flew through the window, perching on his writing pad. He reached up one at a time, so as not to knock them from their perch then untied the letters from their legs. "Thanks, guys."

Once the owls left, he set the drawing pad aside. Whatever he was drawing was in the rough-out stage where it was barely a shape with a few guidelines, and impossible to make out. "Siobhan, Esther says she's here for you any time you need her." He said, reaching across to offer her the note. Then he opened the other note. "Castilla says Llewellyn got back, and now he's back on his way to the capitol to locate the trace on Lorccan..." A soft snort escaped him as he said this, followed by a little ill-mannered snickering. "Do you think we should send an owl or something? He's going to be so pissed off..."

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That Siobhan had tasted liquor didn't surprise him. She did live above a bar, after all. Pratt would be more surprised if she hadn't.

"Glassman," Pratt puckered his lips a little, then shook his head. "No, that's too obvious. Creepy, mysterious guy that also has access to the very potion that was used, looks down his nose at everyone, and is only likable to the students in his own legacy. He's totally a red herring, they want us to think it's him. It's the least likely suspect. It always is. Probably Miss Dewsnip. She probably has a swastika tramp stamp."

He stopped his musing to listen to Makepeace. "If it wasn't someone on the faculty, how did that fat horsefeathers get into the dance?" Actually, how did he get through the door? Well, maybe he wasn't as fat as the girth of his fingers suggested. "Sorry, Ginger," he added, realizing he'd forgotten to censor himself. "I say we let them figure it out. If someone else intercepts our message, they might actually take him before Llewellyn gets to him."

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Arwen moved to sit down on her own mattress after Siobhan had said she did not want any cocoa at the moment. She smirked a little since she knew that had it but been for the serum Siobhan most likely would have never went into how much she drank outside of school. Arwen knew she never tell anyone what they were talking about in here because it would only get one of them hurt. She was thinking about all the teachers on the school that could have been involved with what had happened. “It most likely would not have been Glassman if any of the faculty. Why would he have kicked Lorccan out of the dance early? He would have waited till he knew the others were ready to have taken him also since the lighthouse said that he is fishing somewhere.”

She sipped her tea not really sure which teacher it would be if it was any of them. Arwen wished that if it was not a teacher that let the fat guy in they would find out how he got in and stop it. This year had already been the most exciting year since started here and it was getting even more dramatic by the day. Arwen knew she could wonder on all the different things that could happen and prayed that none of them happen. “Unless it is a faculty member I doubt they will get in as easy again.”

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"You're right. It was Glassman who kicked my brother out for throwing grapes. We can't rule him out. That was too convenient. He wasn't there to protect me, and it left things open, not that he could have stopped them. The point is, we can't trust any of the faculty except Castilla. None of them. One of them is in on it. One of them talked to them. One of them let fat hands into the dance. Glassman may be too obvious, but don't rule him out. Being too obvious is a good cover too. Castilla is our only faculty confidante. Not even Cook is to be trusted. Understood? Someone is out to get us. They know the lighthouse will defend us, so they won't attack us directly again, but they'll keep trying. I'm sure of it. They'll go for our friends, our family. Lorrcan, Patrick, Iris: they are in danger. Our friends might be compromised. Our families back home even. We don't know what else they want. The lighthouse might be able to help us some more."

Figuring things out seemed to be helping Sio. She wanted to gain control, not feel like a victim. This was the way, not freaking out with worry. "We need to plan a strategy, know what we can do and will do ahead of time and who we can trust."

She sat down on her mattress, taking Pratt's hand. "They chose a keeper--because of their question; I'm the smallest and youngest, an easier target maybe. I'm known to be close to my brother, so if they could get him out of sight, they could use him against me. Strike against Glassman. So, why during the dance?"

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Makepeace listened to the others and pondered what they had to say. "Any number of people could come to the school via portkey. The Department of Magical Education brings over the standardized tests that route. Government contractors who do work on the school during the summer probably use them, too. And there's the Floo network. They don't use it much here, but there are still fireplaces that are connected."

He chuckled a little harshly. "The fat guy who grabbed you was Santa. He came down the chimney to grab Elizabeta, but got you by mistake." Then he held up his hand and shook his head. "Yeah, I know, bad time to joke, but a teacher, even one that you totally dislike and distrust, would have no problem finding out about the Lighthouse's warning. All they'd have to do is ask one of us. Or Castilla. If they'd wanted to kidnap any one of us, they could do so easily by putting you at your ease and then stun or drug you."

"This whole thing makes no sense, not when they could have waited a day until you could go out to town and grab you off the street like a random Muggle pervert." He mused, tapping his pencil against his chin thoughtfully. "What if it's not supposed to? What if it's a preemptive attack to take us, the Keepers, out of play? We're the ones that are supposed to look out for others, what if what they want to do is make sure we're too paranoid and scared to do that? Then going after you like they did makes at least some sense."

"I think we need to be smart about this. Protect ourselves and keep ourselves safe, but not hide like turtles in their shells. Pratt, you're in fabrications, right? Think you and some of your stooge buddies would be up to making something like a magical can of mace?"

[Snick]

"Yeah, we can probably do that," Pratt rubbed his chin. "Mr. Woodrick might get a little suspicious that we're actually working on something instead of sleeping or carving expletives into the desks."

A halfhearted chuckle followed his weak joke. He chugged a bit of his soda and put the can on a coaster on the nearest table. The caffeine wasn't giving him energy as he had hoped. If anything, he was getting more tired. Pratt didn't want to sleep, he wanted to stay awake and protect Siobhan all night. Behind his hand, he yawned.

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"I know this will sound odd, especially when we are all figuring things out and this will likely drown out discussion, but I need to play my violin. It helps me think clearly and calms me down. But I don't want to walk into that bedroom by myself. I'm afraid. It's the dark window. I haven't been afraid of the dark since I was two years old, and now I am. I feel like a fool, but it is what it is. Would someone mind getting my violin from out of my closet?" The idea of going in that room in the dark with that window right now petrified her.

Siobhan had taken none of the chocolate, chips or junk food, none of the soda or cocoa, nothing. She was too high strung and anxious to think about food with her stomach tied up in knots. She knew what would settle her, and it was her music. Well, that in whiskey--she knew almost intuitively that that would work.

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Arwen set there listening to to Makepeace since he was the oldest. She also figured that he understood the most about what was going on and thinking the clearest on plans of action. Only thing she had to base things off us was what she read in a book. The whole kidnapping people for some reason was not in the genre of books having read.

She really wished she would have known what the fat guy wanted with Siobhan. If they had known the reason it would be easier to get ready to protect the school. She knew that this was not going to be the only time that happened and they would come back, next time though it might not be for one of the keepers. She turned to her roommate when she asked if they minded if she played the violin. She understood that if it was like any of the other rooms it would have to be here that got it. “ I will work on going and getting it everyone has their own way of calming down. Violin is yours so we should not stop you from it.” Arwen then moved to stand up and head to their room to grab the violin out of the closet for her roommate.

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Makepeace stood up from his seat and knelt across from Siobhan, giving her knee a squeeze. "Whatever you need to do. You make music, I draw, Arwen reads, Pratt... Does whatever he does. I'm going to see if I can special order four wands disguised as pencils, or ask Woodrick how to make them and do them myself." How hard could it really be to make a wand, anyways? Split a branch, stick the hair of a magical animal inside, glue, carve, sand, varnish. Woodrick mass-produced the damn things. There was no reason Makepeace couldn't make a bunch. "I'm also going to see if I can do a few portraits of someone we can trust that we can carry around in case something else bad happens."

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'Pratt... Does whatever he does.'

Nothing. He did nothing. A little bit of dabbling in music, but nothing in depth. He'd been potion free for nearly a week, and it was killing him. Supposedly, he'd been through the worst of the DT's, but the longer he went without, the more desperately he felt he needed a calming draft. Siobhan was the only thing keeping him from completely losing his mind. If she knew how close he'd come to emptying every bottle in the bathroom just a moment ago, she'd be so disappointed in him. He thought she might be proud that he hadn't, except that he only hadn't because he thought he heard someone coming.

"I'd love to hear you play," he smiled then stifled another yawn. Giving the soda one more chance, he guzzled the remainder and tossed the can into the trash bin.

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Siobhan waited for Arwen to return with her violin, then opened her case respectfully. The violin had only been hers for less than a month. Even in her distressed state, the glow of the wood and the touch of the strings spoke to her and began calming her almost in anticipation of her playing, her mind already focusing. She picked up her bow and adjusted the tension, then put the violin to her neck and tuned it just a little as it warmed to her skin. She started to play a Celtic ballad. The plaintive and sentimental tune was just a touch playful. It seemed to grow right out of her heart. Her breathing became more regular as she played.
. . .
Then the song ended and a new one began without a pause: fiery and demanding, raging with thunder and passion, her Irish fury demanding justice and a voice. Whatever Siobhan could not say with her words--her depth of pain, hurt, fear, anger. need for retribution-- her violin could express with pure elegance, although for her now, there was no audience. She was one with her element.
. . .
When the fast and fiery song ended, she merged it once more into the next song, a slow, ethereal song that seemed to reach for faerie wings and lose them. Like the other two, it was distinctly Celtic, but beautiful, sad, and heartbreaking all at once. Like innocence lost, like a broken reflection in a mirror.
. . .
Siobhan knew how to play other violin music too, but when she played for healing her heart, only the Celtic music would do. She let the third song come to an end and gently stilled her strings and opened her eyes, startled to remember that there were three people in the room with her.

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Arwen moved over to sit down on her bed in the corner of room once handing Siobhan the violin. She closed her eyes listening to her roommate playing different songs. This music could be calming for plenty of people if they listened to it. Once the music stopped she opened her eyes seeing what they were planning on talking about next before the music started again. “That is really great Siobhan, why had we never heard you play before. It seems to calm you down playing but that also could calm down those around you listening.”

She moved to then stand up and heading towards the kitchen area to work on making herself another glass of tea. Arwen would not get to sleep most likely so once the others were asleep she would go up to the tower. If anything it would just be to go up there and sit staring at the water not to interrupt them. She moved back over towards them again to take out her book to she took to the party to read. She knew the hardest part would be her trying to figure out who she could trust.


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As long as it wasn't Danny Boy, Makepeace was happy to listen to Siobhan play, and after she was done, and had come out of her mindspace, he clapped softly for her. She'd gotten lost, like he often did while drawing... Like he'd seen Esther do when she was dancing... It was interesting to watch, and he might just draw it later. If he tried to do it now, she'd get all self-conscious about it.

"You have a real gift, Siobhan." He murmured softly, feeling just a wee bit jealous of Pratt for the moment. But only for a moment. Much as he liked Siobhan, he didn't think about her in that way. Or even in the other sort of way that made pretty girls disposable and pretty much transitory in his life.

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Pratt was awestruck. The music hadn't been his favorite flavor, but that didn't mean he couldn't appreciate the meaning behind the notes, the feelings the songs evoked. And she had played them so masterfully, so beautifully. He almost felt like she'd taken him on a journey. Siobhan was a musical storyteller.

"That was amazing," he said, holding out his arm. "Look, I have goosebumps."

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"Thank you, all of you, but I sort of forgot all of you were here. When I get going like that, it's just me and the music . . . no one else is in the world. I play other kinds of music too, but it's the Celtic music that lets something big happen inside me ... I'm relieved you all didn't mind it." She was feeling more relaxed now, and closer to whole than she had been since the lights went out. She scooted near Pratt and leaned against him.

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Arwen smiled as she watched Siobhan lean against Pratt. She really was glad she found someone that she could feel safe with all the time and care about the way each of them did. Arwen knew that most time it did not turn out like it did in books for people but when saw it happen in real life it would still give people a little hope it could happen. “If your other music you play is anything like the Celtic type then it will be excellent. We never mind if you play your music while here since it makes you feel better and that all we want.”

She went to curl up on her mattress setting the tea down as we worked on reading the book of poems she had grab from her room since she was not sure what they were going to talk about. The subject on who to trust could wait for another day while they waited on trying to figure out more about all of them.

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Makepeace looked over at Arwen and considered for a moment moving over to sit next to her; maybe even try to start up something between the two of them. Even if it was just something casual. But then, how could it be anything but casual? He doubted the Lighthouse spent its time trying to match up students for romance, otherwise, nothing would get done.

Arwen was beautiful, that much Makepeace could appreciate about her, but he had no idea where her passions lay, save in the books she cherished. The expression on her face when she was reading was every bit as intense as Siobhan's when she was playing her violin -- Her true inner beauty shone when she was reading. But she was an introvert, much like Makepeace himself; friendly but shy. And Makepeace couldn't help but be drawn to extroverts, especially those with passion and confidence.

He had been ready to fight on her behalf not more than an hour ago, before Siobhan and Pratt returned, but then, he would probably fight on the behalf of anyone in need.

He sighed and lay down on the couch, putting his knees up on the arm of the couch. He hated that, when life gave him loneliness, his mind settled and lingered on a single person, the one whom he could never be in love with -- only a friend.

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Pratt slipped an arm around Siobhan's shoulders and leaned his head against hers. It looked like everyone was getting settled in to sleep, or try to. He wondered if he should get on his own mattress or stay there until Siobhan fell asleep. Deciding on the latter, he stifled a yawn then turned to kiss his girlfriend on the top of the head. He was going to have such a stiff neck in the morning if he fell asleep like that, but he didn't care as long as he was making Siobhan feel safe.

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Siobhan pulled the blanket up over her and snuggled against Pratt's shoulder. She felt her eyelids growing heavy.

She'd had the scare of her life being ripped from Pratt's arms, and the biggest assurance of her life being lifted back into them. Her first boyfriend, and that of only one week, had suddenly become her guardian angel. The sweet little crush, thanks to some evil thug and a traumatic event, had grown into something deeper that Siobhan didn't understand and didn't really want to understand, but she was just going to go with it. She was safe with him.

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Arwen glimpsed up seeing that Makepeace had looked at her. She quickly looked down at her glass since she not looked like staring. He had been the one that made sure she was safe when they had taken Siobhan. Most likely had he not she would been standing there trying to figure out what happen.

She could tell that Siobhan and Pratt would stay like that the rest of the night. It was easy to see that this was what all them needed and the lighthouse did well. Arwen understood that had they not all been picked to be keepers this year none of them most likely would become the close friends they were becoming. Before all this happen her plans for the year were set. They were to read any book left in library not read yet. This made her wonder on why she picked the others why the lighthouse pick them.

Now though she was focused on making more friends and talking to others. It gave her a reason to open up to others. "Pratt do you need me to get you another blanket? You look rather comfortable and not wanting to move. Anyone else need anything else?" She not had plans on sleeping though lay there.

[Snick]

Makepeace reached over and picked up his drawing tablet, opening it up. "I think I'm good." He murmured, closing his eyes for a moment to picture a face in particular, and flipping to a particular page in the tablet. If he was going to be giving the keepers a portrait they could carry, it would have to be a portrait of someone they could trust, a portrait that the kidnappers couldn't possibly have, even if they did have an insider in the school, and that meant...

The woman on the page was quite beautiful, pictured in her late twenties, possibly early thirties, with long, curly dark hair, and clear, dark eyes. Her face had an almost elfin shape to it, and faint laugh lines formed around her mouth. He tapped his wand to the portrait and recited the incantation to bring it to life, and once she came to life, Makepeace pressed a finger to his lips. "Mom..." He murmured, looking at the woman in the portrait, his face intense with emotion, filled with pain and agony and regret. "Sunt eu... Dar te rog, suna-ma Makepeace." He licked his lips slightly, having a hard time looking at the woman he had drawn.

"Makepeace? Nu înțeleg." She had a soft voice, with a more pronounced accent than Makepeace's, intricate and lyrical, from the eastern part of Europe.

"Sunt fiul tău." He said, bringing the tablet closer so he could whisper to it. The look on the portrait's face was puzzled, to put it mildly. "Ai murit când aveam opt ani, Mama."

"Your accent is terrible... Makepeace." She replied, her head cocked slightly, her eyes filled with sympathy. "What is going on?"

"Am nev- I need your help, Mom." He said, frowning. He could have done this ages ago, should have, but didn't... Because deep down, in his heart of hearts, he knew that he was responsible for his parents' death. He then quietly explained the situation to her, since he was unlikely to sleep tonight, anyways.


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"I'm alright, thanks," Pratt said, lightly rubbing Siobhan's upper arm. He clenched his jaw when Makepeace pulled out his drawing pad and created what was apparently a portrait of his mother. Not out of anger or frustration, but out of discomfort. Even he could tell Makepeace was stifling strong emotions, and it made things really awkward, really quick.

"I've gotta take a whiz," he lied. "Want to come with me?"

Realizing that sounded horrible, he tried to correct himself. "I mean, not into the bathroom... Just outside..." he sighed. "I'm not really going to pee. I'm feeling a little weird seeing Makepeace like this. So, I'm leaving the room until he's done doing whatever he's doing."

Gently, he pulled away from Siobhan, stood up, and left the common room. If she wanted to follow him into the hall, she could. But he wasn't going to sit there a moment longer, in case Makepeace stopped holding his feelings back. Pratt thought Makepeace should have done that in the privacy of the bedroom. That nearly-open show of emotion was something that only the best of friends would be comfortable with. He didn't feel anywhere close to close enough for seeing or being seen in such a vulnerable state by any of the other keepers, except maybe Siobhan.

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Out there? Windows... dark... unsafe ... in here Makepeace acting weird . . . and Pratt . . . gone . . . Siobhan felt panic grip her.

"Nooo! Pratt, I need to stay with you, but I'm afraid of the dark, and if any of the doors out there are open to the hallway, then the dark can come in through the windows, and it's stupid, but I'm afraid of the dark, and I don't want to be within sight of any of the windows, so I can't come out there until I know the doors to all the rooms leading off the hallway are closed, so nothing can see me through the windows."

She called in a somewhat panicked, slightly raised, not quite yelling voice, some of the veritaserum still evident. She jumped to her feet, and moved along the wall, standing close to the doorway, waiting for Pratt to let her know if it was safe to come out into the hall.

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He hurried down the hallway and shut all the doors. Pratt felt kind of like he did when Iris had a nightmare and asked him to check in the closet and under her bed for monsters. Well, she hadn't done that in a few years, but it didn't feel like it was that long ago. This was very different, though. The danger, the 'monster', was very real and had taken Ginger right out of his arms. And he didn't feel like a big brother protecting his little sister.

"It's safe," he poked his head back into the common room, startled to see her so close to the doorway because he had expected her to be where she was before.

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Arwen could tell that everything was going to get even more confusing when she saw everyone working on heading out of the room to let Makepeace have some times to himself. She had turned and seen that he gotten out his drawling pad. He had been sitting there talking to a photo that she was not sure who it was before he said mom. Arwen felt like Pratt was right about everything that was going on. "Makepeace I am going to be up at the top of the light house looking out over everything. If you want to talk about anything or finished just let me know."

She then moved out of the room to head up and sit up there. Arwen wanted to give Pratt and Siobhan some time so this would been the easiest place to go. Maybe at some point the lighthouse would show them everything would be fine.

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Siobhan reached out her hand and took Pratt's, looking into the hallway nervously. "I've never been a big baby like this. I've never been afraid of the dark until now. I'm sorry." She hugged him tightly as they stood in the hallway. "I'll get over this, right? I'm not going to be terrified of the dark from now on? Even though I absolutely KNOW there is something out there watching me and waiting to grab me and pull me away from you?" Her heart was racing again, and her breathing was shallow. Damn it, she had left her violin in the room with Makepeace.

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"I don't know. I hope so," he frowned, holding her close. "Maybe when they find the assholes responsible, you'll feel safer. If this changes you, will it change us, too?"

Pratt half hoped the veritaserum was still preventing her from lying, and half hoped it had worn off enough that she could lie if things were going to change for the worse.

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Siobhan felt alarm. She had hoped he wouldn't ask that, as she didn't want to examine those changed feelings, if she could help it. "It has already changed us, Pratt. I don't know what to label the feelings I have for you, but it isn't the crush it was this morning. It's much deeper. And even if I have another boyfriend someday, and I hope that never happens, but even if it did, you'd still be my best friend because of what happened today. My best friend . . ." she said with wonder, "My very best friend. Is this what love feels like?" She felt her cheeks turn crimson, but she smiled, "The potion is speaking for me, but I don't know for sure yet, Pratt. It's only been a week--accelerated by tonight. I do know I like you better than anyone else I know."

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Pratt held his breath while she answered, then exhaled with relief. He had yet to realize what she was saying. "I think love might feel different for different people. For me, it's being able to imagine life with them in the future. Not necessarily marriage and kids and growing old... But... what I guess I mean is not being able to see a future that doesn't include them. So, kind of like a best friend," his nodding faded off and his face paled as he slowly realized what she said.

And her slight backpeddling confused him. Was she or wasn't she? It wasn't too soon for him, he thought, but he wasn't going to admit it outright. You couldn't have just a crush on a girl for four years. At some point, a smile just for you, an accidental brush of hands, or perhaps a friendly hug will push it beyond a crush, past infatuation, and fall just shy of obsession. And just like that, he could almost feel it slipping through his fingers like sand.

"We should probably both just shut up now, Ginger," he smiled weakly.

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"This kind of shutting up?" she asked, then tilted her head up and kissed him softly, turning her head a little and increasing the kiss's pressure, and parting her lips a little.

She felt such a rush of butterflies and warmth all through her. She squeezed him tightly. The light house was wise to put her in his arms . . . it knew he could be trusted to keep her safe.

She gently pulled away from the kiss, but stayed in his arms. She smiled at him. "Gilligan."

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"Yeah," he murmured, keeping his eyes closed for a moment after the kiss. "That kind of shutting up."

Pratt laughed, his ears filled with the sound of his own hastened pulse. Why couldn't he just tell her? Why didn't she just know already? He felt stupid, feeling that way if she thought it was unacceptable to feel that way after just a week. It had only been a week for her, but would she understand that and not think he was rushing?

"Maybe Makepeace is done now," Pratt sighed. "So we can go to sleep."

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"I don't see why everyone's making such a big goddamn fuss about this." Makepeace muttered as the other three keepers abandoned him in the room.

"And I don't recall teaching my son to use such language." Retorted his mother's portrait tartly.

"Yeah, well..."

Makepeace spoke with the portrait of his mother for a few more minutes, switching back to Romanian. There were no other portraits of her, not even back in her home country with the family she had abandoned to run away with his father. Apparently, they had burned all of those when they learned she had fallen in love with a Muggle. She quietly agreed to Makepeace's request, and with a somewhat apologetic look, he flipped past her in the sketchbook to a blank page, picking up his pencil and getting started on four very small versions of her portrait.

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Arwen stood at the top it the lighthouse looking out over the sea. She was thinking on everything that was going on. Her roommate was having issues and that it would only get worse before it turned better. The teachers most likely were all out there working on figuring how to stop this from happening again. How were they suppose to know which teachers could be trusted on everything? Would the school really take a chance of telling the person that helped them get in? She felt the light shining on her back as it made the circle around again.

Arwen feeling the slight breeze blowing up from the sea moved back to the door of the lighthouse tower. She love the smell of the sea water, but the breeze was causing her to have chill. She moved out of the cold towards her room and moved to get on some socks since that was the easiest way to make sure that her feet had gotten warm up and stayed that way. Finally having got feet warm, she moved down to sit outside the room that Makepeace was in to listen. Once he let it known he was finished she head back into the room.

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The door opened, and Makepeace stepped out of the common room, moving to stand in front of Arwen. "I could practically hear the gears turning in your mind." He said, moving to sit beside her. "Well, that and I could see your shadow in the crack under the door."

"You don't have to avoid me when I'm having a moment." He said, looking at her out of the corner of his eyes. "I can understand if it makes you uncomfortable..." He would have gone on, but he was pretty sure he'd just lost whatever point he was trying to make to her. Conjuring up a pale shadow of all that his mother used to be wasn't exactly the high point of his day, either. "I'm beginning to think I should have kept my mouth shut about that little warning the Lighthouse delivered; then none of this would ever have happened. At least... Not to Siobhan." He didn't know why it was such a big deal that they keep it secret -- If they just came out with it, then everyone would know, and nobody would be at risk. Well, nobody but Makepeace, and he'd gladly tell people what the warning was without the necessary fuss of being kidnapped. "Beginning to feel like Chicken Little here."

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Siobhan came back, holding tightly to Pratt's hand as she stood in the doorway. "Are you okay now, Makepeace?" she asked. "I wasn't sure what you were doing." She looked at him hesitantly. "Maybe since we are all feeling so screwed up right now, we should try to do things that might make some of us worse in another room, if we can." Maybe the potion was wearing off a little. It was the most tactful she'd been since she was returned.

[Snick]

"Yeah," Pratt poked his head into the doorway. "I can barely deal with my own emotions, let alone yours. Next time, at least warn a guy, eh?"

His smile showed he wasn't speaking maliciously.

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Arwen looked over towards Makepeace as he sat down next to her. She had not bother to tell any of them that the main reason she left so he could talk to mom. She did not need them worried that she would break down from not getting to talk to hers like they all did. "Well you are right though the gears in my mind are turning. Would still been at top at my feet not gotten cold and needed socks." She looked away from him. "Sorry I caused you to stop early because you saw my shadow. I don't mind sitting out here while you spent time with your mom."

She leaned head back against the wall thinking on the warning. "It is right that you told us about the warning the Lighthouse as given you. Who it so say that they would not have kidnapped one of us anyways believing that we knew it all even if we had not. If also think about it Makepeace what would have happened if you did not tell us and they had gotten you instead." She laughed thinking about the actual story of Chicken Little. Arwen knew it was one of the few books that been writing with different endings. "Which Chicken Little are you though? The story depending on version you read had two morals. The first one where all the fowls that followed Chicken Little to their death. The moral was think before you speak. If any of them would have then they never would have followed the fox into his den to be eaten. The second version they follow the wolf but something happens before going in so they all run and leave. It shows that sometimes people give up on living their life to the fullest because of something that might happen in the future. So you need to live your like there no tomorrow and do everything to your best."

She looked towards Siobhan thinking about everything that was going on. "I am up to doing whatever."

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"I never actually read that story." Makepeace admitted to Arwen. "Or if I did, I don't remember it any more." He just remembered something that related to going over the edge and fear ruling your actions. Except that he hadn't really been afraid, per se, until Siobhan had gotten kidnapped. Just cautiously alarmed about the whole thing.

"I'm not a mind reader." He said to Siobhan and Pratt, stifling the urge to take umbrage at the general feeling he was getting that he was the bad guy, again, and get pissed off at them for implying that Pratt's little freak out was in any way his fault. "You have to tell me if something's making you uncomfortable, otherwise I won't know." Hey, he didn't throw a hissy at Siobhan's violin recital, did he? "I think that it's fair of me to ask that." Because, if it wasn't, then they could bloody well pucker up and start smooching for all he cared.

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"That's only fair. We can all do that." Siobhan walked over to where Makepeace had been sketching. "May I see what you drew?" she asked politely, thinking that would be the most respectful thing she could do to show him there were no hard feelings.

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Makepeace nodded slightly at Siobhan's request, walking over to the couch and picking up the tablet from where he'd set it down, then turning to the page with his mother's portrait, which he held out to her. "This is my mother." Or, at least, her portrait. He wasn't going to say that, though, because even magical portraits had feelings, and didn't like to be thought of as things. "She passed away eight years ago." He added, to explain his own emotional outburst, such as it was.

"Mom, this is Siobhan." He said, to introduce the girl.

Makepeace's mom smiled as gracefully as she could, given the circumstances under which she had been animated. "Hello, Siobhan. You can call me Holly." Her accent was quite similar to that of the woman who played Delenn on Babylon 5. "My son has told me what happened to you this evening. I will do everything I can to help you."

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Pratt forced his expression to remain indifferent. He didn't see why he had to warn anyone what would make him uncomfortable. It's not like he knew ahead of time that Makepeace was going to draw his mother and get emotional, and how was he supposed to know that kind of thing would make him uncomfortable until it happened? That kind of thing didn't occur very often, if ever. It made more sense to him for Makepeace to warn them if he was going to do something that might make others uneasy. Common sense should have told him that a guy seeing another guy get teary-eyed typically made for an awkward moment. They could expect whatever they wanted, but he wasn't about to list off every scenario that would make him leave a room. And that's all he did - leave the room. He didn't throw a fit or have a meltdown. Why leaving the room was turned into such a big deal was a mystery to Pratt.

While Siobhan was being introduced to the one called 'Holly', Phrixos situated his mattress with the others, prepared the bedding, and crawled under his blanket without a word.

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"Hello Holly. It's nice to meet you. I'm the one who caused all the trouble tonight. You have a good son. He has a temper, but he tries very hard to do what is right and protect people. He makes a good keeper. He misses you." Okay, so the potion hadn't completely worn off... that was more than she'd ever said to a pencil drawing before. "How will you help us?"

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Makepeace blushed minutely, but didn't let himself get distracted. "The figure in a magical portrait can move from their own portrait into other portraits of themselves at will, so she can convey messages from one of us to the others. She can sense where those other portraits of herself are, so she can help us triangulate the position of any one of us if we get lost and the Lighthouse can't find us." He didn't bring up kidnapping, because that would probably be a sore subject for Siobhan, but he knew she'd understand the gist. "She can also enter any other magical portrait in close proximity to her own, in case we need her to listen in on someone here at the school, say, a staff member we don't know if we can trust?" He shrugged, not knowing if that would actually be something they would ever use his mother's portrait for.

"I can imprint her image on cardstock, make her look like she's, oh, a playing card like Muggle - The Blathering, a business or discount card, I can put her image in a locket..." It felt a little weird speaking of his mother in this context, but they needed to know the benefits she could offer them. "She's also a fully-trained Witch, and might be able to offer advice if you get into a sticky situation."

"If you could send one of the portraits to your father, Makepeace, he might be able to do things to help, even if it's only to give you a ride somewhere." Holly offered. And then she saw the pained expression on her son's face, and her hands flew to cover her mouth.

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"It's all right. I understand. I'm sorry I brought up something so painful. It's a brilliant plan. And awesome that you already know how to animate your pictures to make them come to life. That's some advanced magic, Makepeace." Siobhan felt it best she go back to Pratt. "I'll leave you to your mother now. It was nice meeting you, Holly." She smiled at Makepeace. "Thank you."

She moved back to her mattress which was now immediately next to Pratt's and climbed under her covers, but slid her hand out and reached under his covers until she found his hand and curled her fingers around it.

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Makepeace nodded stiffly, turning to look at his mother's portrait and then at the other keepers. "I'm going to excuse myself... Guess there's more we need to actually talk about." He hadn't known that his mother didn't know his father was dead. He had, after all, died before her in the car crash. And when she had had the police patch through the call... Yeah, he certainly had a lot to discuss with his mother. "I'll be back out soon." He said so that Siobhan wouldn't worry, heading into the boys' bedroom and closing the door behind him.

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Arwen set there listening to everything Siobhan was telling Makepeace’s mother, Holly. She understood that this painting might be a great idea once everything was worked on since they would not have to worry about being lost if something happened the other lighthouse keepers would still be there to help them out. It would be hard for her at first knowing that she never would have anything like this with her mother but knew that she could handle it if kept her and the others safe.

Arwen seeing that everyone had not moved to lay down their mattresses. She slowly move to stand up and head over to hers before sitting there wrapping the blankets tight around her so that would stay warm. She knew that she would make sure that Siobhan had been sleeping before she actually fell asleep to make sure she was okay.

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Pratt's eyes closed lightly when Siobhan grabbed his hand. Makepeace left to talk to his mother and Arwen settled into her own bed. "Siobhan," he whispered, frowning. "If this is how things are going to be at school now, I don't think I can make it without help."

His eyes opened a sliver to look toward Arwen, to see if she was looking or listening. He squeezed Siobhan's fingers minutely, then gave a beckoning tug.

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Siobhan silently slid under her covers to the edge of her mattress and over onto his mattress and under his blanket. She whispered as silently as possible, "I'm here to help you. I won't always be this screwed up. I wish I could share with you how I feel when I play my violin. I wish you had something like that . . . something that wasn't considered an addiction. But you have me. Anything I can do to help you be strong, I will.'' Siobhan got as close as she dared, although she had already crossed more lines than her family and several nuns at her old school would tolerate. "But tonight, Gilligan, I still need you to be strong for me," she whispered.

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"Ok, Ginger," he smiled weakly and pulled her in close for cuddling. "I'll try."

Pratt didn't have big, strong guns like other athletes at the school, but he had a little bit of tone, a fair amount of gentleness, and a whole lot of warmth. He hoped she got as much comfort being in his arms as he got from holding her. He didn't feel strong at all, but he felt better. Despite everything, she still smelled the same as usual. He sighed contentedly after a big, deep breath through his nose.

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Arwen would occasionally glance towards where Pratt and Siobhan were only to make sure they were both doing okay. She knew that the lighthouse would protect them but she also learned in life that something people needed protected from themselves when something dramatic happened. They would not mean to but end up causing harm because of emotions. She knew because it happened at first when her mom died thought she still know it was her fault and no one could tell her differently. What they were saying though to each other she did not even know for the fact that she was not wanting to snoop in on it. Reading books she come to know that there were plenty of ways to tell how someone was feeling then listening to a single word that was said. Arwen knew that she ask her dad and nanny to send some her fairy tale books if she could not find them in the library for the fact that it always made her feel safe. She turned to lay on her back staring up at the ceiling thinking on all the stories and how everything would turn out right just like she hoped it would now.

[Snick]

After about twenty minutes, Makepeace emerged from the sanctum of the boys' dorm, without his mother's portrait this time.

"It's not your fault." She had told him quietly, as if guessing exactly what was on his mind. Maybe someday he might actually let himself believe it, but he knew it was his fault that his father had stormed off to go for that late-evening drive, and that his mother had chosen to go with him to calm him down.

She had asked him to draw and animate a portrait of his father, but he couldn't... Couldn't bring himself to enchant such a painting and face his father again. The man wouldn't hesitate to verify the truth of what Makepeace's mother denied.

Moving out to the common room with a thoughtful look on his face, he half-smirked at Pratt and Siobhan cuddling. It was almost painfully cute. He offered Arwen a small smile, then padded silently over to the fireplace to get a fire going. The floo would have been blocked off by now, so he didn't have any worries about anyone trying to get in that way.