– Friday, June 2nd, 2018 –

I stare to Finnley and Jason, who're bickering with hushes whispers and angry gestures, at just the right distance to prevent me from hearing what they're saying.

I just demanded Finnley to tell me what happened after the car accident as soon as I came down from the initial shock and allowed Jason to guide me inside under light force.

He sat me down in the kitchen, gave me warm clothes to wear and a hot cocoa to sip from. We sat in silence, while Finnley kept sending me these annoyingly worried looks, while seemingly feeling guilty over something.

And as the silence dragged on for a while, I closed my eyes and allowed the memories that resurfaced to come back to life.

And slowly, flashes of memories – all involving Jeffrey in some way – had made their presence in my mind.

Up to a point where depressed feelings came crashing over me to such a degree, I knew it wasn't because of what happened to me in the accident, or the fact I lost my memory. I reconnected with feelings I had previousto the accident. The desperation, the depression, fighting with Oliver, on the verge of giving up.

And how I blamed it all on Sydney and Jeffrey.

I'm far from remembering anything and everything, and most of the things that came back are mere feelings, rather then memories. But they're there, and it's enough to connect dots that felt like an illogic pattern at first.

It all started to make sense.

So, I demanded for Finnley to tell me what happened after the accident, of which I now highly doubt if it had been an accident. Not after remembering advertisements about me.

To sell me.

Or the fact Nathan was abducted – only shortly missing – but missing nonetheless.

And one particular warning coming from Emma, about how theywould target all of us.

And since I did notice I was the only one who called it an accident, rather then a car-crash, and the fact everybody's been really careful about saying anything that had to do with the crash and what happened afterwards, I think it's safe to say there's more to it than I know.

I demanded an explanation, and I haven't gotten one so far.

Because Finnley looked right about ready to spill, when Jason pulled him away from me with a warning look in his eyes.

They've been bickering for 10 minutes by now.

"Guys?" I roll my eyes in annoyance, pulling the blanket tighter around me while shivering in cold a bit. "Guys!" I call out – a bit angry this time.

They both stop mid-sentence, turning to look at me.

"It's not like you'd be telling me lost memories. I don't have any memories to begin with. It's not something I'm magically going to remember, despite being in a artificial coma for three weeks."

"Exactly." Finnley waves his hands towards me, telling me he's agreeing with me in this. "He deservesto know."

"We already went too far, Finn." Jason warns him. "The doctor clearly warned you not to temper with his memories too much. Because it could worsen the trauma."

"I'm fine." I insist, though still shaky and restless. "I just have tons of questions."

"I'm telling, whether you like it or not. If not now, then when you're not here to stop me." Finnley shrugs, pushing Jason aside to walk back to me. He grabs my hand, and drags me out of the kitchen and all the way to his bedroom.

Jason weakly protests at first, but as Finnley slams the bedroom door and locks it, he gives up.

"Okay, what happened?" I cross my arms and wait for him to start spilling the events that I have no memory of.

"Oliver and you went to soccer practise. You were driving home, Oliver behind the wheel, when another car hit yours from behind at high speed. It's a bit vague and unclear how or what exactly happened, since neither you nor Oliver remembers, but your car flipped over and ended beside the road."

"And I suffered from a head injury and Oliver broke his back..."

"The other car lost control too, and crashed into the guardrail."

"And it was Jeff, or Sydney."

"It was Jeffrey, yes." Finnley shudders and nods. "He got knocked unconscious and they could arrest him as soon as the cops arrived at the scene. He was drunk, so it's a miracle for him to be able to hit you guys like that."

"So, Jeffrey is in jail?"

"They all are, by now." Finnley lets his breath escape with a deep sigh of relief. "If they wouldn't be, I would've told you sooner anyway, just to warn you."

"Thanks, I guess..."

"I just needed you to understand who Jeff was, before telling you. How do you think you would've reacted if I told you a guy deliberately ran you off the road, without knowing who he was or why he did it?"

"Confused..."

"And you were confused enough as it was already." Finnley shrugs carelessly. "You said you have questions."

"Yeah, well, I think most are covered..." I scratch my head. "It was Jeff, and he's in jail. How'd they catch... wait, you said 'all of them'. Who's all of them?"

"Well, it's not exactly clear if they got everyone, but Jeff spilled names. A lot of names." Finnley's eyes widen a bit as if he remembers the list of names Jeff spilled. "Apparently, he was in some sort of sick cult-like organisation and they recently kicked him out and kind of set a ransom on his head. Declared him an outlaw in the underworld." Spilling those names was his way of getting back at them, and the bastard even got a deal out of it."

"But... whoare they?"

"Well, for starters the group that helped Jeffrey and Sydney with keeping Alex, Liam, Jason and me in line. But more, including the organisation Jeff and Sydney sold me to in November. But most of them had already been captured anyway."

"And they're all in jail now?"

"Yeah, though they haven't been sentenced yet. The court date for Sydney's trial, for instance, hasn't been set yet. They're still building the case, gathering evidence, trying to come up with a chronological order of events, witnesses, who did what and when..." He sums up while looking up, as if thinking of more.

"What about the guys that stole your organs?"

Finnley's head snaps down and he stares at me in agony, sighing deeply. "None got caught because they're a complete different organisation, apparently."

"Wait, what? So... they're left unpunished?"

"Well, joke's on them with the liver, because that wasn't in great condition..." Finnley tries to brush it off lightly, but it's with a bitter tone.

Letting out an exasperated groan, I lol my head forwards before I lean in to slap him on his cheek.

He yelps, and stares at me with wide eyes. "Why'd you do that?"

"Stop pretending it's not a big deal, Finn. It's kind of annoying."

"Well..."

I watch him while his face flushes, how he fiddles with the hem of his shirt. "Well...?"

"I just don't want to make a big deal out if it either, because I can't fucking change anything about it, now can I?" He sends me an angry look, and then I realise he's just trying to hide his real feelings and thoughts; again.

"If you want this to work, between us, you have got to start letting me in, Finn."

"I know!" He groans, lolling his head backwards instead of forwards, before he lets himself fall backwards onto the bed. "It's just fucking hard and embarrassing and I just... I don't really remember a lot."

"Well, start with what you remember."

"I don't want to remember." He rolls his eyes before he stares at me with an intense glare. "Can we please, first focus on you? I promise to tell you everything I remember, as soon as you remember everything you need to."

– Sunday, June 4th, 2018 –

On Saturday, I woke up midday, exhausted, and my mind buzzing with information that Finnley so generously gave me throughout the night. I think I now knoweverything I forgot – the main outlines at least. I just don't rememberthem as my own memories. Specifically, the part about what happened after the car crash. How Finnley came home, how Jeffrey was arrested and later Sydney. How a huge organisation of criminals surfaced after Jeffrey started spilling names.

So far, Finnley told me he was sold in January, to a smaller organisation that solely used him for his organs and blood, but how they resold him after he started to become useless because they took too much in too short amount of time.

That's when a guy bought him, simply to help him. His name was Dominique and he bought Finnley to save his life, help him recover and get him home.

Without Dominique, I doubt Finnley would've ever gotten home, so I'm silently thanking this guy every other minute for bringing him home.

After I woke up, Finnley had Oliver come over – in the company of Stan – to help fill up the gap in my memory of what happened in the months Finnley wasn't here to witness it, but it wasn't that interesting to hear.

Long story short, I was a mess.

"What's wrong, Finn?" Oliver sounds both annoyed and worried at once, and I can only guess they're in the kitchen, once I start descending the stairs to find out where Finnley is right now. I woke up alone on a mildly hot Sunday morning, on my own.

I'm used to have Finnley still sleeping next to me, or to sit in my room, reading a book. Not to leave me alone completely.

There's a silence after Oliver's question, and I imagine Finnley shrugging his shoulder in response, instead of giving an actual answer.

So, it surprised me when I hear him say; "it's Cris" with a sad voice.

I stop dead in my tracks, wondering what about me is wrong right now.

"What about Cris?" Oliver voices my thoughts, making me smile a bit, yet frown in the same time.

"I don't know where I stand. I don't dare to ask him either because I think he just doesn't really know."

"He's your boyfriend. That's what you wanted, right?"

"But..."

"Stop overthinking, Finn."

"I can't help it... Every day I'm scared his feelings will be gone and he'll break up with me because he will realize I'm a complete mess and he can do so much better."

"Believe me, you're the best. And he wants you, even if you wouldn't be. I knowhe wants you and only you. Stop doubting, start communicating with him."

"We did that. I told him everything, didn't I? There're no more secrets I'm hiding from him. It's out, he knows, and that only worsened my fear for him to leave me, simply becausehe knows all of it."

"He's still here, isn't he?"

"Maybe it just didn't really get through to him what kind of person I was."

"Was." Oliver simply replies, and I can't stop frowning, wondering why Finnley would be scared for me to leave him.

It's not like he did things I never did. He just met the wrong person who screwed him over.

He did drugs, but I did too. He drank himself into obliviousness on several occasions, but I did too. He slept with several people before anything happened, but I did too.

He just hid it because he happened to be gay, and I didn't figure out my feelings for guys yet, when I slept around.

So, why would I leave him for it?

"You've been struggling with lots of things, Finn. Even before Jeffrey and Sydney fucked everything up, you were struggling. And for what I know, Cristian wasn't exactly a saint either during high school. And news flash, he still isn't now."

"But still..."

"No but, Finn. He loves you. I know he does. I was there when you were gone, witnessing what an actual mess he was, from up close."

"I just... I guess I should stop overthinking everything, but I'm insecure about it because I really don't want to lose him."

"You won't. I bet you guys will get married and live a happily ever after."

Finnley snorts, while Oliver's words caused me to look back up the stairs, remembering the ring he gave me a while ago, to show me how much I was in Love with Finnley before the car crash.

How I wanted to propose to him.

I did want to get married to him, but right now I feel as if it's too soon. We're too young, there's too much going on around us.

But isn't a promise to be with him for the rest of my life – even if only in the form of an engagement – what he needs right now?

"Finn?" I hesitantly walk into the kitchen after an appropriate amount of time in silence, not wanting to give them the idea I was eavesdropping in on them. "Let's do something fun tonight."

"Like what?"

"I don't know, like a date?" I shrug, leaning in to kiss his cheek, waving my fingers through his. "Dinner or whatever?"

"Dinner or whatever sounds nice." Finnley chuckles, shortly looking towards Oliver, before gazing right into my eyes. "Can we go to that tapas restaurant down town? I heard great stories about it."

"We can, yes. I would prefer to stay close to home anyway. In case either of us gets tired."

"Smart, adulty... What did you do to Cris?" He touches my forehead as if checking for my temperature.

I smirk, pulling him in a hug, which is a bit awkward since he's seated on a barstool and I'm standing, but it's working enough to get the message across. "I love you, mister Lund."

"Love you too, Cris." He chuckles, nuzzling his face against my chest.