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A/N: Not Thoroughly Edited.

Chapter 13 – Curious Behaviors (Samson Conrad POV)Pt. 2

It was October tenth and for some reason, time had seemed to go much slower in my mind, although again I knew that the days were the same length, it was just my own perception that was warped. Nothing had changed, but everything was different for me.

"Samson we're thinking of going bowling tonight? You coming?" Devin – Taylor's sister asked me as I packed my bag for the first two of my morning classes, flinging it over my shoulder. Shaking my head, I didn't even have time to give Devin an excuse, or the truth really. "Ugh – I do not understand it... you basically have no life now that Faith is your partner for that physics class – you're always like... running off to study with her so you don't fall behind – I mean why can't she just change when she goes to sleep – or why can't-"

"I don't want to go, not because I have to run home," I roll my eyes, I wasn't running home, "but because Faith and I have a schedule set out and if anyone is being accommodating, it is her for me, not the other way around," I shut my locker, leaving Devin behind as I walked towards first period.

Run home, I scoff silently, I didn't run home to study with Fatima, but I did make sure that I caught her before she took her mid-afternoon dosage. She was such a small thing, on nearly the same dose as Talia to prevent infections and manage their pain. If the medication made Talia drowsy to the point of falling asleep sitting up, and she was healthier than Fatima... I was not surprised that nearly forty minutes after taking it that Fatima was useless to the world, though I had witnessed her trying to fight the effects – failing. Horribly. Cute though, as she became pouty.

As if there was not enough wrong with Fatima, then she got the flu. But as I walked away from Devin, I turned the recent events over in my head. It wasn't as though mom had changed completely, but I carried the groceries into the house and noted many items that we had one time or another begged our mom to purchase for us that she never did, that she now bought but for Fatima. Canned soups, frozen meals... all of which mom was prompt to warn that we should not rush or eat since they were mainly for Fatima.

The next strange item that went to Fatima's room was a miniature fridge, that dad instantly filled with healthy drinks, popsicles and water. Though mom strongly believed none of us needed one like Fatima had been given and had it been any other time, watching the smile break out on her face was enough to walk away silently. Of course... that meant that Fatima came down from her room less than before, but determined, I made frequent trips up to her floor, inviting and offering her what I could.

Thankfully, Fatima recovered from her flu and I don't know what it was but something changed, there was a shift where she was still the observer but I think she was interacting more –although you had to really seek her out and invite her to join in. Fatima would never ask or just include herself.

Once she got over her cold, we often ran into each other in the late night up to the early mornings. What I also noticed was that her eyes, they were always red, puffy and yet she never showed sign of the girl I met at night during the day, during breakfast. All indications of tears were gone after we bid one another goodnight and I saw her again three or four hours later.

Never meaning to pry into her space, I still had stored away the little details that Fatima had shared with me, piecing together a story that, I hoped was fictional and not presentable of the truth that Fatima had endured. I had researched Stockholm syndrome, taking out books, printing articles, constantly reading different material after a mental breakthrough. At first I couldn't understand it. In fact I'm not sure that I did now. The closest guess I had was that Fatima was afraid that she was developing that type of attachment to my family and wanted to research. I mean why else would she possibly have had so many tabs opened with those tagged words? I know that she was fearful, that dad had asked us to keep our distance not to overwhelm her but just understand that she needed time...

Then, a new picture was slowly formed. Walsh and Patricia worked with the F.B.I. Fatima had told me herself that she did not have parents and then, I read the tabs. Little by little, words on paper became more when behaviors from examples of those that have endured situations classified as bonding with a captor, matched with some of the behaviors that Fatima exuded.

But that left me in limbo, in a place where one minute, I could see signs that possibly indicated that she had once been held captive. Yet, I was thrown when, I couldn't quite merge that idea with the intelligent, wickedly funny and ridiculously straightforward person that Fatima was.

She was one hundred percent authentic.

Still sometimes, I'd look at her, and see more than she probably meant for anyone to see. As though she had to guard her every like and dislike.

Dead end.

Vacant.

Lost.

Confused.

Those were the feelings and impressions I would get when I occasionally glanced at Fatima, but when I took time to observe her, she reminded me of me two years ago.

I guess I could now understand how my parents felt, that look of what I thought was pity, now with Fatima... I knew it was compassion. It was watching someone trying so hard to fit in, to fly under the radar but keep up. But the look was just that, a look. Then again what it meant – represented – was wanting badly, to a great extent even, to take some of the burden from their shoulders.

My mother said that Fatima just needed time, when my little sister, questioned when Faith would be ready to play. I had remained silent through the discussion but my silent, verbal and mental response? Needed time for what? "Okay enough, what's wrong?" Taylor asks me when Miller, her and I were sitting at a table during our study hall period. I blinked looking at her before slowly over to Miller. His face blank, whereas Taylor was inquisitive – searching.

How the heck had I ended up in study hall?

What even happened in first and second period?

Had I been so preoccupied that I didn't...

And here was the newest problem I was having. I couldn't share what was wrong with me, with any one just yet, because it didn't feel like it was my place to do that.

I didn't want to tell people how to get Fatima to open up to them, nor did I want to share the details I had pulled from her and had been given freely – even though most times it was by accident.

"Nothing's wrong, Tay," I mutter looking down at my notes.

"Are you – is this about Faith?" my head snaps up, as I narrow my eyes at her, was she going to complain about me running home to Fatima as well? Instead of jumping to conclusions, I sigh.

"Why would you think something is wrong and that it's her?" I asked glancing at Miller and then Taylor herself. Her face heats, and she taps her pen against the table with a shrug, "You're different, since you've met her, I mean you know that you can talk to me about anything... right Samson?"

I could talk to her, but, in my gut I knew the right thing was that anything revolving around Fatima was where I drew the line.

"Nothing is wrong," my tone dismissive and while I want to talk to someone, it wouldn't be Taylor. It would be my mom. I didn't often speak with her about my inner turmoil but it felt as though she saw Fatima the way I did. My dad as well, but he tended to hang back and let my mom take the reins when it came to Fatima.

"Are you going to homecoming?" Miller asks, and I'm so thankful I give him a side nod, "Nah," I shake my head, not interested in going at all. In fact I know that Fatima had lost all her records and books and thought I could take us both down up Eugene. There's a small record store that always has the rare finds, and maybe – well I thought she might enjoy that. Though I hadn't worked up the nerve to ask her just yet, but still.

I tune out everything once again, keeping my mind occupied and when the bell rings to let us know it's time for our next class, I'm up on my feet and ready to leave. Behind me Miller chuckles, as we walk away from Taylor and when we're a good distance, "Why don't you ask Taylor? Is that why you're not going because you have no one to go with?" I roll my eyes. Since freshman year, I'd gone solo to all dance functions having fun, but I really wasn't interested this year.

"I can't wait until this day is over," Miller skips over to a new topic, being the type of guy that doesn't push or linger on one point. He was good at reading people, knowing just when they'd had enough, and when he should just back down because it had nothing to do with him. So when he moves onto something about his self I take the bait, "Why?" I mean granted it was Friday, what else was going on?

He snorts, "Are you serious? We're all coming over to your place..." I stop walking in the middle of the hall, while students try and some fail to not walk right into the two of us. "I – I thought my parents – they said that they were going to call and have you guys scheduled to stay at one of the other booster's house?" I stumble wondering if I had heard wrong.

Miller shrugs, "Nope, all of us have our weekend passes-" I nod but we go our separate ways when the final bell rings and knowing I have to get to my next class I hurry myself along, finding my spot next to Thaddeus.

Is everyone still coming over to our house? I wrote on a sheet of paper, passing it to him my body tense for no reason at all. Not one I could find at least.

Why wouldn't they be? Because Fatima... she avoids us, how is she going to handle a house full of more people? Though I don't say or write that down for him.

I just blinked and shake my head when Thaddeus continues to gaze at me waiting for some type of response. Living with such a large family, again I had – which at times was impossible to avoid – the conversation with mom and dad, and then they mentioned it briefly when Talia, Brennan and I were at the table but I thought it was a made decision. I don't respond now, instead I take notes while the instructor lectures all while planning how I could make this easier for Fatima.

She didn't seem to do well with our big family, much less adding another ten children into the mix. She had such a wonderful, witty personality, I'm not sure why she didn't want to share that with others but I was grateful she wanted to share that with me.

By the end of class I've robotically written everything that the instructor wrote on the board, but he could've been speaking in Russian because I really didn't hear him. Because I decide that if Fatima is overwhelmed with all the people around, I might just ask her if she'd want to go with me to Eugene to get out of the house, do something fun since she mostly hid herself away, only coming out at night.

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Unknown POV

She was there weak link, in the forest, climbing while above gray skies show signs of rain. Although, she sniffles and cries near a rock, and when I smell the dew that comes before the rain, I glance at the girl that's going to help exact my revenge. If she makes it out of the ragged forest alive with this storm coming.

The Conrad's were protective of their children, not those of others, certainly not my brother – Brian.

While else would this girl be deep in the forest? Alone? It was always a show with these people. Invited this girl into their home but it was only for appearances.

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Samson is interested in Fatima as friend guys... As you can see by his thoughts, he really just doesn't have all the answers but he cares for her as one "human" being to another.

why do you think Faith went into the forest??

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