Lydia and I had not left Juan's side since he arrived. How he had even managed to get here in the condition that he was in, is beyond logical to me. He was bruised to the point that his natural skin colour was purple. His arms were broken from his shoulder to his fingertips, his left pinky finger was gone, and the stress he had put on them from moving didn't make it any better. He had deep cuts, cuts that he should have bled out from a long time ago. Clearly, there is a divine power above that thought that he still had things to do on Earth. I did my best not to panic and to keep myself composed, because then everyone else would end up feeling it. Lydia was in full panic mode; I had never seen her like this before. She had seen some terrible injuries in the med bay, from lost limbs to people having plants growing from inside of them, every one of those times she has been a calm mind that found the solution after some thought. She has been pacing up and down his bedside, asking me questions about his internal composition while she tried to find anything to deal with the external injuries. The safehouse wasn't stocked up on medical supplies so she resorted to herbs that she could find in the forest surrounding us. I stitched together his insides, pulling the broken bones and torn organs back together. It was a slow process, slower than I wished it was. Even with all the training I had gone through, it hadn't amounted to much when it came to intense situations like this. The gala was tomorrow night and if he even survives through the night, he'll most likely still have a broken bone and intense pain. Just slowly healing him now was eating up my energy like a rat in the heat.

Ellie and Sam left once we had Juan mostly stabilized. Sam hadn't managed to get any sleep during the night, after Fisher died, he just shut himself off. I tried to talk to him, but I could feel the depression he felt. You would think seeing everyone's emotions would make it easier to confront or comfort them, but I felt it just as much as he did and I could barely even get close to him. Ellie noticed and decided to take him shopping, we needed outfits for the gala. She wanted to distract him, it was the only thing any of us could do for him right now.

Adam would pop into the room we were using as a med bay every now and again. He had grown out his hair to the point where he had it tied in a ponytail, the back still flowing out and wisps of hair falling onto his face. He didn't outwardly show his worry for Juan and usually he could keep his emotions hidden from me, he's probably the only person I had trouble reading, but I could feel the concern trickle out of him. With all the uneasiness surrounding me, I felt the pressure build-up on my back to make sure Juan pulled through.

Time passed and it was about late in the afternoon now, Adam disappeared somewhere upstairs and Ellie had just sent me a message saying they were going to be back soon. I would occasionally drift in and out of sleep from exhaustion, but I was confident with Juan's condition so I let myself slip a bit. Lydia had not stopped tending to him. Dabbing his forehead, cleaning his wounds, checking his vitals, the works. She would mutter incomprehensible words as she moved around like a ghost. While slipping back into sleep, I was woken up by something. A jolting grasp of my hand shot energy back into my body. Juan had his hand gripped onto mine, not hard but strong enough to not be a reflex.

"Lydia, I think he's waking up," I said as I rubbed my eyes.

She spun around and moved to Juan hastily as his eyes fluttered open. His eyes drifted around the room and then fixed on Lydia. "I'm either in Heaven or there's just an angel standing over me." He said as he pulled a smile.

Her cheeks became flushed with red but kept a serious look on her face. "You really never cease to amaze me. After crashing through the skylight, transforming from a bird into a human who looks like he was run over by a convoy of eighteen-wheelers and the first thing you do is flirt. Astonishing."

For a moment, his smile waivered but came back, "I missed you too."

"You know, I could always come back later. Give you two lovebirds some alone time." I said smugly as I watched this unfold.

"Nurse Joy, I knew I didn't feel as horrible as before. Thanks."

"Do you want to talk about what happened to you?" I asked.

"Not much to say really. I got caught, had a little light torturing session for a few hours, got probed for information and then given cyanide. I think for a brief second I was dead, but I actually turned into a panda. Then I escaped and you know the rest."

"That does not fall under the category of 'not much'." Lydia's face folded with annoyance. "You could have died."

"But I didn't."

I could see and feel Lydia's agitation grow. "So, you just got your powers," I interjected before Lydia could continue, trying to sound happy. "Congratulations, you finally got what you've always wanted."

Juan began to tense up but held a smile. "Yeah, the family powers finally got to me and just in time too. I probably wouldn't have survived without them."

"Well, that's great isn't it," Lydia said, speaking with weird inflictions. I turned to Juan in confusion who I could see was getting looking around for a way out.

"Was that sarcasm or did you just stop working," Juan asked, laughing but I could feel the tension in the air.

She sighed and looked to me, "I'm going to take you up on your offer for 'alone time' with Juan."

"Okay then. Juan, don't move around. You still have bones that aren't completely healed. I'll come back later." I said as walked out of the room and closed the door behind me.

"Is Juan awake?" Adam said as he came down the stairs.

"Yeah, but I wouldn't recommend going in there. I think they're having a fight."

"It would be Juan to wake up and immediately start problems."

"At least he's alive to cause problems."

"Juan's too stubborn to die."

A puff of blue smoke diffused by the main door, in its centre Ellie and Sam stood with garment bags swung over their shoulders. Sam had a weak smile on, but it was hardly covering the aura of sadness that rushed off of him. We had thought that maybe if he went out to do something, it would clear his mind, help ease the pain, and maybe even distract him from what happened to Fisher. But I knew better than anyone that it wouldn't help, not really. After they gained their footing, Sam went straight for the stairs and disappeared above. Ellie made eye contact with Adam and I, a smile she had been pulling faded away to a sombre frown.

"He's stronger than he looks, I'll give him that." She said as she fell over on one of the seats beside us.

"I told you that we just needed to give him time," I said to her.

"Sadly, we do not have an ample supply of that," Adam said as he ruffled his hair. "In my opinion, this mission isn't that important compared to the other things on our plate, but I can't argue that this could possibly help in the long run."

"I agree, but we're in the thick of it now. We lost someone already and we haven't even made it to the gala. He died for a God damn gala." I said as I rubbed my brow. "Damn it, Akari."

"Right now, I know Akari has been cryptic but she knows what she's doing," Adam said, almost softly.

"Then can you tell me what your mission was?" I asked, half listlessly half seriously.

He looked at me with drained eyes, "I've been given orders to not tell you."

"How am I supposed to trust her then?"

"You don't need to trust her then. Trust us, the people here with you will not lead you astray." Ellie said.

"What about the one following orders?" I asked looking at Adam.

"My orders right now are to help you guys keep Wilstock safe and get you all through the gala. I will be completely transparent with you, I have another side mission there." A pit formed within me after he uttered those words.

"Another mission?"

"I know this doesn't help my case and I can't tell you what my mission is, not until I get the okay from Akari, but it won't conflict with what you are doing."

"For the last few months, you've been getting your missions from me. What's changed now?"

"Akari clearly has something planned is the most I can say from what I've gathered. Probably something that getting anyone involved before it's ready could mess it up. We just have to believe that Akari has the best interest of The Foxhole in mind, she always has, there's no reason to believe it's changed now."

Every time he said her name, I got this pit in my stomach. I felt like I was a toy in a game. A game I never wanted to be a part of. A game that I used to feel I had some control over but really, I was just a pawn within it. "If it's the best for us why not tell me, or Maxwell because I know he knows as much as I do. I can feel the growing disdain within him every time she pulls this. I trust you, Adam. But I hate that I feel like I need to watch you because I don't trust her."

"That is fair. Just don't let her cloud your mind from the job at hand."

"Speaking of jobs, I'm going to check on Sam." It was half of the truth; the other half is that I couldn't talk about this anymore. I just need to distract myself with something else.

"I could join you, if you would like the company that is?" Ellie asked as she adjusted herself in her chair.

"You just got back, take time for yourself or check on Juan. I think I've got this. You get some rest"

I felt him before I saw him. Grief is a heavy-duty emotion. I would know. It's so strong that you wouldn't need to be an empath to feel it, but being an empath made it worse. Greif was like a hole that kept going, kept getting darker, that pulls you into the most destructive part of your soul. Eating away at any joy you think you are allowed to have, holding a part of you captive, turning everything around you black. As I got to the top of the staircase that was all I saw, black. I remembered the months of isolation, the anger, pain, heartache, sadness, all of it returning to me the closer I got. Under my foot, a pained crunch echoed in the darkness. As I lifted my foot, a crushed pale orange marigold flower lay smushed below it. In front of me, a trail of marigolds grew sparse throughout the hallway, leading deeper into the darkness. I followed the pale orange flowers, feeling the strength of the grief growing stronger the closer I got. 

Outside a crumbling door, the marigold grew through the frame and around the door creating a protective garland surrounding it. At the handle, a budding marigold wrapped around it, infantile and beautifully trying to protect the pain that lay inside. I took the handle and pulled downwards, the moment there was enough space to peak my eye through the door, a torrent of emotion poured out towards me. It felt like pure darkness had encased the room, the sheer force of it was enough to bring anyone in my position to their knees. However, I wasn't anyone. I lost my father, my mother, my home, my brother, and for a time I had even lost my will to live. I was not a stranger to grief. She was my bedfellow. I pushed the door open and looked into the darkening well of despair. In the darkness of grief, the room was obscured and the epicentre of everything was Sam Wilstock. His hair was dishevelled, his usually prim and tidy suit lacked the same energy that they had when they first met him. He was looking away from the door and sat on the floor cross-legged, combing his hands through his hair. I didn't say anything and carefully sat beside him, I didn't try using my powers to influence the atmosphere and just kept him company.

"Is it your turn to try to distract me?" He asked in a sullen tone.

"No, just here to keep you company. In case you want to talk." I said softly.

He nodded and sat silently, I said nothing more and did the same. The darkness surrounding him tempered slightly, it wasn't a lot in the grand scheme, but any improvement was a good improvement. After a minute or two of sitting in silence, he turns to me and looks me in the eyes. They were red and hazed with tears hanging at the edge of his eyelids. "Can you make it go away?" He asked, voice breaking as he tried to hold himself together.

"I wish I could. How easy everything would be if I could just take the pain away. Influencing your emotions while you are in this state could make it worse and even if it did make it better, it would only be temporary."

"I don't want to feel this anymore." The tears became too heavy and fell down his cheeks. "Fisher has always been there, he practically raised me. I just can't feel this anymore."

"But you need to feel this. That's how you know they mattered to you. The pain just shows that you cherished the moments you had with him. The good and the bad."

"I just-"

"Tell me your favourite memory of Fisher," I said, cutting him off.

He looked at me wide-eyed for a moment, and then a smile broke his lips, "One time, in my more rebellious day, I snuck out of the house to go to this crazy party up in the hills. So, I took one of my dad's cars and drove over. When I got there, I saw a guy at the valet station and as I pull in and get ready to hand the keys over, Fisher bends down to the window and just gives me a deadpan stare. For a second, I'm lost for words, I don't know whether I should gas it back home or wait for him to speak, but finally, he says, 'You have to be less predictable Mr. Wilstock.' He then gets in the car, and I think he's going to drive me back home, but he takes me to a Taco Bell of all places. We spend the next few hours just eating tacos in the car, having banter and enjoying stories of when he served and my prep school problems. It was the best party I'd ever missed." With each word he spoke, the aura of darkness receded back into Sam. Through his despair, the light of hopefulness cut through. The smile that lit up his face as spoke radiated a childish purity of a truly happy memory.

"Hold on to that memory. When the grief gets too much, when the anger builds up, hold onto that memory and remember the man he was to you."

"What memory do you hold on to?" He asked, wiping away the tears. "For your brother."

The question caught me off-guard for a second, it felt weird being asked that after internalizing everything for months. "Well," I started. "two things you have to know about Oli are that he was not popular and that he would put himself on the line for people he cared for regardless of the first thing. There was a day in high school when a group of jocks were trying to harass me to go on a date with one of them. I was never really good at dealing with conflict like that, not because I was bad with people but more because I was fairly popular and had a good social standing. I was afraid to lose that position, looking back it was dumb, but I digress. Anyways, Oli sees this and comes up to the group of guys and tries to get them to leave. One of the guys gets worked up and calls me a bitch, Oli did not even hesitate to kick him in the balls. Oliver just starts screaming, 'Call my sister a bitch again, I dare you," at this guy squirming on the floor. The rest of the guys there then start beating up Oli for what he did and leave. He got into a lot of fights to protect me. He never usually won but it was never about winning for him. That's how I like to remember him."

"He sounds like he was a great person."

"He was. I only wish I had told him that more often," I said with a smile.

Sam looked back sharing the gesture, the darkness around him had receded to a cloak that he wore around him rather than an emanating emptiness that devoured him, "I doubt Fisher or Oliver would want to see us moping. You have a mission to plan, and I have an amazing speech to prepare. So, if you will excuse me." As I stood to my feet, I grasped his shoulder and gave it a light squeeze on my way out. "Thank you!" He shouted finally as I opened the door.