Connor – 15 years ago

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I watch the shit go down. When Phelan shatters her memory stone, she notably flinches yet carries on down the hallway without any further acknowledgment of what he did.

Phelan’s beyond pissed. “She will obey me,” he grinds out through gritted teeth.

“Yes, Sir,” I agree in an effort to placate him.

“If she doesn’t,” he cautions, “she’ll be exterminated.”

Not fresh news to me. I’ve been worried about that from the start, but this time is different. I see the determination in his eyes. The last straw? She loaded that sucker on his back, along with fifty friends, just to be good and sure to break the camel’s back.

Yeah, I was worried. Now I’m fucking terrified. What’s it going to take for her to toe the damn line? I thought things were better. For a while, she was at least conceding there was a line. Apparently, that was due to Phelan’s threats against me. Not that I think she no longer cares what happens to me. Obviously, she does. I’m the only one worthy of that sentiment. She’s just figured out that particular threat carries no weight.

Unfortunately, for Phelan, I don’t even think the threat of extermination will change her behaviour. In fact, that’ll incite further rebellion. What else does she care about? Sheelin, for sure, but there’s sweet fuck all Phelan can do to Sheelin. If he tried, or so much as implied he was trying, Sheelin would absorb his ass. I kind of wish he would. It’d sort the problem right the fuck out.

Medicine. Like the rest of us, her craving affects her. It’s always burning in the back of her mind, even when it’s sated. Unlike the rest of us, she has a steady Sheelin dosage running at all times. Not her favourite type of intake by any means, but that doesn’t negate the reprieve it continually offers her. If she didn’t have that, and she didn’t have standard intake, maybe the craving would force her to comply. Hell, maybe displacing her on the intake list would be enough to force her to comply, without needing Sheelin’s support. She’s obsessed with the damn list.

I straighten my back, preparing to betray my sister in the worst possible way, for her own good. “Sir?”

Phelan grunts. Guess that’s the only permission I’m getting to speak. I swallow down the lump choking me. “You could try bumping her off the intake list. See if that helps.”

Yeah, I’m already regretting the suggestion when a slow smile spreads across his miserable face. He claps me on the shoulder, disappearing down the hall, presumably to scrub her from the list. My shoulders basically cave into each other. She’s never forgiving me for this, and the worst part of it is, I’m not even done betraying her. Phelan isn’t the only one I have to get on board with this plan. Operation Save Molly means hurting her a fuckton more in order to help her. I have to enlist Sheelin.

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When I arrive at our room, Molly’s already on her way out. “You okay?”

“I’m famished,” she dodges. “Grabbing a bite to eat. You coming?”

“Nah, I’m good,” I decline. “Hey, Molly?”

She stares blanks at me.

“Are you really okay?”

“Better than I’ve been in months,” she assures me. “Probably years.”

“Any particular reason?” I press.

“I’ve got nothing holding me back now,” she admits.

“Should I be concerned?”

“No, you shouldn’t be concerned,” she deflects.

“I mean in general,” I clarify.

She smiles. Not something forced but a legitimate smile. While that’s great and all, it’s not what the situation warrants.

“Molly,” I growl.

She pats me on the cheek and fucks off down the hall, an inappropriate skip in her step. Yeah, any guilt I felt about my suggestion to Phelan skips off right along with her. She needs this. Left to her own devices, she’s good as dead.

I enter our room, blowing out a heavy breath. Right, so I’ve never prayed before. Is there some protocol I need to follow here? If I’m being entirely honest, I’ve never actually attempted to have any type of relationship with Sheelin, outside the general shunning I pull when I’m forcing withdrawal to age. That always pisses her right off.

Knees. I should get on my knees for a start. I kneel on the cold floor, clasping my hands in front of me. Fuck, I look a sight. Maybe she’ll give me an A for effort. Some pity reprieve for purposely looking like an asshole.

“Need your help, Sheelin.”

Nothing.

I cough. “Oh mighty Sheelin, I come here requesting your help.”

Nada.

Okay, how will I know if she’s even listening to me? I won’t. Not unless she wants me to. I need to get her attention.

“Molly needs your help.”

Zip. Weird, I really thought that’d get a reaction.

“If we don’t do something to help Molly, Phelan’s going to see her exterminated.”

Zilch. This is ridiculous. I blow out another breath. Okay, maybe I need to like…offer her something. A sacrifice.

“If you help Molly, I’ll stop trying to age.”

The floor vibrates, and I intake a sharp breath. She’s listening.

“You have to stop feeding her,” I whisper.

The vibrations increase, causing me to nearly lose my balance. I place my hands on the floor in front of me to steady myself.

“Look, I don’t want to see her suffering any more than you do, but if we don’t do something, she’ll be dead,” I beg. “We’ll lose her, Sheelin. This is for her own good.”

The vibrations persist, stronger than before, and I end up having to lie flat on the floor to keep from falling down.

“It’s the only way,” I plead. “Hard heads require hard lessons.”

The vibrations stop. The floor feels wet below me. Fuck me, did I piss myself? No. That’s Sheelin. Is the bitch crying?

I stand, brushing my hands on my now wet pants. I sniff hard. Sheelin isn’t the only one crying for my sister. I’m a hot mess too. She’s not about to let me forget my role in her emotional turmoil either. While I typically don’t feel her medicating me, she’s making sure I’m fully aware I’ll be held to the sacrifice I made in the midst of my pleading. Worth it. Saving my sister is worth staying in this boy’s body. It’ll work, right? It has to work.