Frank sat as far back on his bed as he could, leaning against the wall for support. The more time that passed, the more the exhaustion seeped into him. He was having a hard time just keeping his eyes open, let alone focusing on the conversation happening between Ray and Jamia.

Jamia had felt his magic. She had been hit by his father's, but Frank's magic was able to subdue it's effects quickly. She had mentioned how she had felt something artificial attempt to take hold, making her lose her balance before a calm and comforting feeling shoved it away. She had even seen the magic physically around them.

Ray, from his vantage point under the bed, was able to easily hear the conversation and see the effects from a lower angle. Though he didn't have the same feeling Jamia did, he saw the magics in the air.

Frank let his head drop and his eyes close, though he fought to maintain consciousness and a grip on the conversation in front of him.

"How do you stop someone like that?" Ray's voice was barely above a whisper, "Someone who can get in people's heads?"

"What does he ultimately want, though?" Jamia countered in an equally hushed tone, "What's the endgame?"

Frank kept his head down, trying to listen, but he felt so out of it. He went from being able to hear his friends clearly, to only noting a buzz of audio around him. From feeling their presence around him, to sitting in an emptiness. He wasn't sure why he was feeling this way. It felt different from before...

There was a soft tingling sensation against his cheek. Frank opened his eyes and lifted his head, feeling a familiarity to the touch. When he tried to see who was there, however, he was greeted by a dark void surrounding him and a faint mist of pink fading in front of him. Frank tried to reach out, but his hand went through the mist as it further faded from view. He tried to call out to it, but no sound escaped him. He tried to call out louder, trying to keep it from fading, but even the sensation on his cheek was nearly gone.

Frank gasped as he lifted his head, blinking rapidly at the sudden brightness of his room compared to where he had just been. Jamia and Ray both turned to him with concern as he brought his hands up to his face to rub his eyes.

"I need to go back to see Patrick." Frank's voice was muffled by his hands as he tried to keep the exhaustion from creeping back in, "There's still pieces... it's not completely there. Neither is he, but I can help him."

"You want to go back?" Ray exclaimed. He took a moment to shake his head before responding again. "That didn't exactly work well for us last time, Frank. We almost got caught."

"I did get caught." Jamia frowned, "I heard him talking about something as he was coming up with someone but I..." her face scrunched as she looked down. "I don't know..."

"I don't think we can risk that again, Frank." Ray frowned at him, "It's too dangerous."

"No, there's still things I can't remember." Frank shut his eyes, trying to picture the pink mist again, or feel its touch against his skin. "There's a feeling, like a phantom of something I know that won't fully come back." It was hard to even drag the encounters with the mist to the front of his mind. It was like anything connected to it was being restrained where he couldn't get to it. "He's the only one I can think of to help."

"What if your dad goes back down there?" Ray asked, "What if we can't hide we did last time?"

"Frank... Ray may be right." Jamia's soft voice pulled Frank into opening his eyes and turning to face her. She was looking down at the ground, trying to hide a clear nervousness on her face. "It's a lot riskier now... and we only have a few hours before the Force Commander arrives."

Frank felt his heart sink. He needed the answers, but the others were right. It was so dangerous, especially considering how his father was so easily using magic on them... or had it always been like that? Frank could just see it now. He could fight it now. "He has to sleep sometime." Frank pushed himself away from the wall, feeling a sudden burst of energy rush through him. "When he goes to his chambers, we can use that time."

He watched as Ray and Jamia exchanged a look. Frank bit the inside of his lip; he had to think of something to convince them. "What if it's just me? I can manage my way around."

"Out of the question." Ray's attention snapped back to Frank, "You barely made it out with a look-out. Why the hell would we let you go alone? Especially after seeing..." Ray shuddered, "Seeing what he can do."

"You need backup." Jamia nodded, "I don't know that it's a good idea to go back, but I also don't want you to get caught."

"I understand how dangerous this is, believe me." Frank brought his hand up to his chest as he looked between his friends. "If we're gunna get any kind of answers, though, we need to see him and I need to help him so he can help me."

"You're sure there's no other way?" Ray asked. "You can't just magic your mind back together?"

Frank shook his head. "It doesn't work like that. By myself, I can't see. I need a guide, and he's guided me before."

Ray shifted where he sat. "And you're sure we can trust him?"

Frank locked eyes with him. "If you really trust me, you'll trust him." He replied, firmly. If Patrick had triggered some of his memories to come back, he had to be able to help get the rest of them... He just needed more time to be in the now. "Will you help me?"

Ray sighed. He still seemed unsure. Frank turned to Jamia, who pursed her lips and nodded. "I'll just need to collect my notes again."

As she stood, Ray groaned, pushing his fingers through his hair. "Of course I trust you." He looked at Frank, dropping his hands to his sides. "Of course I'm in."

Frank nodded. His shoulders dropped like a weight had been pulled away from him. There was a chance for answers. They just had to be careful.

—-

Frank, Jamia, and Ray moved quickly once the clock struck a late enough hour. They knew the final preparations for the Force Commander's arrival would begin extremely early, so they had little time to waste. They got lucky when they approached the cell block, because the guard posted outside was sat by the gate, asleep. They silently made their way past him before rushing through the maze of rooms that was the cell block.

"Here!" Jamia stopped mid-stride, almost making them trip. The overhead light flickered, just like before. A faint sense of deja vu washed over Frank, but he shook it off as Jamia began to speak again."You're on a timer." She whispered, nodding her head towards the hall.

Frank and Ray both nodded before running down the hall, not caring about the noise their footsteps made this far into the cell block. Frank barely looked at the lit up cells, afraid to be side tracked by who he may now recognize within them. He needed to focus on getting to Patrick.

Once they made it to his cell, Ray turned to Frank as he took the door handle. "So, if you don't hear me calling for you?"

"You'll have to pull me away from him." Frank nodded. He wasn't sure how long this would actually take, or if he'd be conscious to what was physically happening around him. He opened the door, but hesitated before slipping inside. "Thank you, Ray."

The smallest smile tugged at Ray's lips, though his brow was still furrowed in worry. "Hurry up before I change my mind." He replied, pushing Frank into the cell.

Frank looked around the room as the door shut behind him. Patrick wasn't resting on the ground where he had been before. Now, he was propped against the wall under the observation window. His head was down, but his hand was still waving in that loose pattern, indicating that he was at least alive.

Frank hurried over to him before crouching in front of him. "Can you hear me?" He asked as he looked Patrick over. He hadn't noticed before just how messy he looked. Dark splotches covered his coverings and his skin. Parts of his clothing were ripped and torn away carelessly. On his lower abdomen, a scar hooked along his skin, stitched together with thick binding. "What have they done to you?" He asked, bringing his eyes back up to Patrick's head.

Patrick didn't seem aware of him at all. His hand just kept loosely waving and his eyelids hung half shut from what Frank could see.

Frank let out a breath and looked at his hands. "I hope you're ready to act like a battery." He whispered to himself. A soft whisper moved through the back of his head, making him nod. "Okay..." He looked back at Patrick. He reached out, placing his hands on Patrick's cheeks.

Both boys gasped loudly as soon as their skin made contact. Patrick's eyes widened with a flair of yellow and Frank could feel the tingling sensation of his magic racing through him. With a blink, he was suddenly surrounded by darkness. His hands were outstretched, but he was holding nothing. He pulled his hands back, shaking, as he looked around his new surroundings.

It was just like before. It was all darkness. Looking around, however, he eventually saw Patrick standing not far away. Patrick was turning his hands in front of his face, looking at them with a curiosity and confusion as Frank approached.

"Patrick."

Patrick turned at the sound of his name, though no recognition seemed to spark in his blue eyes as he looked at Frank. "Ger... No." He squinted at Frank. "Wrong hair. Dark hair. Pete? No..." He tilted his head and dropped his hands to his side as he continued to look at Frank. "I know your magic. You were here before... Or you will be. It feels like everything stopped."

"It's me, Frank." Frank brought his hands to his chest. "I was here earlier. You showed me something that happened to you as a kid. Something I'm connected to."

"Frank." Patrick nodded, straightening his posture. "Frank. She was you. She took you somewhere I wasn't supposed to know you. But then I did... and we switched again." He brought his hands up, gripping clumps of his hair as he cast his eyes to the darkness below them. "Now we're here but where is here? I haven't felt... It's been overwhelming without... Why can't I think of his name?"

Frank could see tears building in Patrick's eyes as he stepped up to him. Frank reached out and put a hand on Patrick's cheek. "Hey, I know it's a lot. It's okay. Just breathe for a minute."

Patrick nodded, but didn't lower his hands or bring his eyes up from the darkness. "I know you."

"Yea. I know you too." Frank brought his hand to one of Patrick's wrists, gripping it lightly as he rubbed his thumb back and forth over it. "I'm still trying to figure out how. You helped me remember some things before, but something's still hidden."

Patrick looked up at him. There was no more curiosity in his eye. His gaze seemed more focused than before, though still confused. He lowered his hands from the grip on his hair, though Frank still held a hand against his wrist.

"What are you trying to find?" Patrick asked, tilting his head to the side that Frank held.

Frank was quiet. What was he trying to find? He wasn't even sure what the pink that had been floating through his mind really was... He just knew what it felt like. Familiarity. Comfort. "You said you were trying to remember a name."

Patrick nodded. "My eyes to the now. To keep me grounded so I don't get lost." He replied as a tear fell down his cheek. "I lost him, I think. I can't feel him."

"I think you're looking for Pete." Frank wiped Patrick's tear away. "He stayed in the tree with you. He didn't really like me, from what I remember." A soft laugh bubbled from Frank with his words. He could picture the room he had stayed in. Minimal decor. Glowing crystals emanating colored light. Earthy walls enclosing it all.

Patrick's eyes widened. "Oh!" It was like he could see what Frank was seeing. "Oh!"

Frank was suddenly hit by images that he could feel didn't belong to him. There was a yellow hue to them as they played in from of him. Patrick and Pete laying on a bed of moss, hand in hand as Patrick's head rested on Pete's chest. Patrick curled up against the wall with eyes flaring an almost white light as Pete attempt to comfort him and reach out. A soft conversation where they looked down at their held hands. Patrick laying on the ground, vision becoming fuzzy as Pete screamed for him, rushing in his direction.

The images pulled away as fast as they had been presented to Frank, making him slightly dizzy. He shook it off as Patrick took a step back from him.

"Oh, I remember him." He brought his hands up to his mouth as more tears fell down his cheeks. "Pete. They took him too. He has magic too."

"He can't be far." Frank reassured, approaching Patrick again. "I found you, and some of the others. He has to be here too."

Patrick looked back at Frank. The longer they talked, the more Patrick seemed to truly recognize him. It seemed like more of himself was coming back after however long of being lost. He blinked at Frank before lowering one hand to his chest and extending the other out to him.

Wordlessly, Frank took it. He could feel the tingle of their magics meeting. Though Patrick's seemed a bit sluggish, it still danced with Frank's where their hands connected.

"You had someone like that." Patrick noted, "I know them. You're looking for them."

Frank nodded, his magic moving faster at Patrick's words as well. "Please, I don't know why I can't remember."

Patrick hummed as his gaze moved to their hands. "Moving here... Was safe for the majority of us..." As he spoke, a reel of images shot past them through the darkness. Their hair whipped around as more reels of images began to move past, obscuring the darkness behind them. "But you, especially. You had to be safe, no matter what path you took." The reels, now surrounding them completely, began to slow. Patrick squeezed Franks hand as he pulled his other away from his chest. Without looking away from their hands, Patrick reached out to the side, letting his fingers graze a whited out panel that had stopped beside them. "The present... It's still so unclear to me after being stuck between everywhere... but I still feel him. He's not dead."

"Who?" Frank squeezed Patrick's hand back, "I can't even remember a face. I don't have a name. I only get feelings that I don't understand and images that are altered."

Patrick moved his hand away from the whited out panel. He instead reached out to Frank, placing his hand on the side of his head. "Show me." He brought his eyes up to Frank's, revealing cracks of yellow breaking through his natural bluish green. "Who are you looking for?"

Frank shut his eyes. He began pushing through his memories, bringing forward the ones that were obscured by white or had shimmering mists of pink where a person should have been. He hoped Patrick could see them too and make sense of them. He could feel tears escaping from his eyes as more and more memories cycled. There were so many. So many more than Frank thought there were but, now that he had started digging for them, he couldn't stop finding them. There were so many. So many. So much was still being kept from him. How could so much of his own life be kept from him?

"Oh, there's so much."

Frank opened his eyes. Tears were falling down Patrick's cheeks too. He moved closer to Frank. "There's so much, but I share some of those memories too." He leaned his forehead against Frank's. "This is what I can remember."

Frank's vision was suddenly encased in yellow. He could see himself laying on a bed of moss while two people spoke at a table. One was clearly Patrick, but the other... red hair curtained around their face and pink burned where their eyes should be. Most of their face wouldn't come pinto focus for Frank, however, before the memory shifted. Now, Frank sat on the moss bed beside the red head. They were close, arms almost touching, as they spoke quietly. Frank could hear the red head's voice. He knew that voice. Then, the memory changed again. It was a brighter scene now. A clearing surrounded by trees and waving grass. The red head stood in front of him now, holding onto his hand as he lead them forward. The light made his face fully visible now, as he shook the red hair out of his face.

"Gerard." Frank whispered, feeling himself get pulled back from the memory. "It's Gerard." His eyes were wide as Patrick stepped back from him. He shook his head. The pink was fading back, revealing his face there again. And again. It was Gerard. He was always who was being obscured.

Frank blinked rapidly. He couldn't stop repeating the name in his head. Gerard. Gerard. Gerard. Where had it gone? Why had it been so hidden? Why hadn't he seen his face... He shook his head, bringing his attention back to Patrick. "Where is Gerard?"