A/n: I've updated Shattered for any of you reading that story and waiting for updates. :) there are two new ones. i'm updating Loving Ashlynn and Shattered at the same time now. anways. enjoy here. 

Chapter 57 – UNSTEADY (Brennan Conrad POV) Pt. 4

"What was Fatima like?" Andy asks me as he, Thaddeus, Javier and my sisters Harleigh, Caterina, Paige and I head up the stares to the cafeteria just around six in the morning. Exhausted, the others ahead, I give Andy a side-glance.

Hell, what was Fatima like? Besides afraid of us and always hiding out? Uhm...

"She lived with you guys for a few months... right?" he tries again when I give nothing up. Still there was not much else to give Andy, not the way he craved details about Fatima. I found it so strange though; he was barely with her for that long. Yet, I could see the love he had for her the same love he had for my cousins.

"What do you remember about her?" I ask him for the very first time. He sighs piteously. "Not much, I was too young but I just remember her kindness I think... I remember her being bigger than me, but smaller than mom." He continues walking up the stairs the biggest frown on his face.

"It's not about how much time I spent with her though," he tells me. "I feel like, like, my heart and soul knows hers and my mind knows it is supposed to remember her, but cannot, does that make sense?"

Instantly I think of Devin.

"And it's really..." he sighs waving his limbs around for no reason. "Everything that mom was promised is actually happening... I mean," Andy begins laughing loudly.

"Shh," Thaddeus hisses, "dad said to keep in mind that not everyone is waking up at the butt crack of dawn like us."

Nodding, Andy goes silent.

"What do you mean?" I'm the one to ask Andy now.

"Mom was told that she'd be wealthy, that she would be the mother of royalty and that Fatima was important. I'm not sure about the royalty part," he pauses, "but look at this house?"

Andy smiles as we hit the landing, "I bet she's going to save us all," he says just throwing that out there nonchalantly, as we enter the cafeteria area.

Pulling the tables and chairs out we start laying them out as dad said we had too, everyone between thirteen and eighteen here. Within twenty minutes we have every table set up and are on our way back to our rooms to get ready for the day ahead.

One by one we file into and out of the bathroom, until finally we were heading upstairs for breakfast. Shockingly, just as we made it to the cafeteria area getting food and slipping into a booth in the far corner Naomi came forward dressed and sat down next to Andy.

"Nervous?" she asked him picking up one of the biscuits from his plate. "You're going too when I start," he asks her when he's finished chewing a mouthful. My gaze flickers between them. It was weird. Andy did not seem surprised when Naomi nodded.

"You're going to attend with him when the time comes?" I blurt out. It had to be annoying. As far as we knew Naomi was over ninety years old. She was going to sign up for high school just for Andy? That seemed like... like overkill.

My face said so I'm sure.

Naomi nods, "Yes, he's my first priority and the thing about having a Charge is committing to do well. However it is not just a job. That is not a way to tackle things Brennan," I listen carefully, nibbling on toast.

"To aid a Charge it cannot be something you do when others are watching. You have to be a good person, know yourself before helping others. If you do not have the urge inside, the call to think of others full-heartedly then you will fail not just the Charge but yourself."

"But... it cannot always be about Andy or whoever your Charge is," I disagree. Naomi rests back

"Good is not a time and place sort of thing Brennan," Naomi counters. "A lot of goodness comes with patience and knowing that good comes to everyone in different forms."

Putting my fork down I observe Naomi for a moment, looking at everything down to her hands.

"You've spent your whole life putting others first?" I ask for clarification. "What do you think your father has been doing for the last twenty plus years?"

"That's different," I argue but Naomi chuckles humorlessly, light. "He could have moved just your mom and siblings. Maybe your grandmothers and grandfathers and that would have been easier for him to handle. It's going to be complex hiding everyone here, and keeping track." Frowning I glance around the cafeteria area.

"So back to dedicating my life to helping my Charges," she says a few minutes after I've gone silent, eyes zeroed in on my plate of scrambled eggs. "I've learned endless lessons along the way but the most self-centered thought I've had is after helping a Charge, walking away I reflect back and think..." she tilts her head to the side, eyes closing, and a slight smile on her face.

"The depth of my compassion has surprised me."

"I thought it wasn't about you."

She giggles and I'm thrown by the dainty bell light jingle.

"My compassion, kindness and willingness to give are trainable muscles, each time I think I can not give more of myself, I can."

"You make it sound like some type of drug," I comment snorting, expecting her to chuckle along with me. Doesn't happen. Instead Naomi takes the last bite from her biscuit and speaks only after swallowing.

"There is a fine balance that needs to be respected. Many lose their way on this journey. They get accustomed to rescuing their Charge, or having that connection that they too do not know when it is time to walk away – some even go as far as ignoring the signs."

More and more the cafeteria fills and den members get situated, the place filled with chatter. As per my punishment when I had finished eating, I went to the kitchen area and begun helping those on dish duty after breakfast.

I was never to be lazing around, Liam and my father had decided. Every moment I was awake would be spent bettering the den, helping out without pay. While my brother and Andy only had to wake up a few days a week, I was on the schedule everyday.

I was exhausted just thinking about everything I had to take part in but at the same time I had taken my punishment quietly.

I'm just emptying out one of the tubs of dirty dishes when Naomi comes up with a tub under her arms.

A smile on her face.

Why was she always smiling? I thought just trying to focus on my dishes. Washing the suds off. God was she ever not smiling? I asked myself silently putting a bit of force to wash the crust of oatmeal from one of the pots.

I'm elbow's deep in dishwater when my grandfather Antone comes to me with a tray and Javier behind him.

"Have either of you been to see Devin?"

Was this a trick question?

I turned to Javier, but he only shifted his gaze to his shoes.

"Speak up!" Antone snaps.

Huffing out, Javier shakes his head. "No. I'm not visiting her in there," he says tiredly. Antone tilts his head to the side, zeroing his gaze on Javier completely.

"Explain."

His chin wobbles first and Javier runs a hand through his hair.

"Do you know that before all this happened my parents were going to ask Kalenah and Ansel if we could say with them?" Antone and I remain silent.

"And Taylor and Devin were causing trouble and I told them – warned them to behave, but they didn't listen. Now fast forward to now and all Devin had to do was listen to what you told her to do. I mean it's not like you asked her to mur-" he stops abruptly flinching.

"You did not ask her to do something immoral, right?" Javier asked Antone bluntly.

"That is correct."

Javier nods, "So, yeah. No. I'm not going to visit her in the cellars," he shrugs.

"Going down there it's only going to – to cause trouble... and even though I know she's probably lonely, going down there will be like rewarding her bad behavior." Antone holds Javier's gaze neither blinking. Antone's hold on Javier is commanding and unable to be released from under. When Antone nods at Javier, he slouches exhaling loudly.

"I love her, but..." Javier adds, guilt building I guess. "And you, why haven't you gone?" Antone peers over at me.

What did I have to say to that?

"I cannot make her feel something that isn't there granddad," I answered, my lips thin. "Well," he says nodding, letting me off the hook.

Returning to the dishes a few seconds go by before anyone speaks again. "Take this breakfast to her," he lays the tray down and turns to walk away.

"Wait what?" I choke out, looking at the tray and then back to Antone. "I didn't stutter," he says calmly.

"I – I don't – I don't think-"

"No, you don't think," he agrees fully. "I'm not sending you in there to break her out, or do anything more than give her that tray of food. Should you two talk, I expect you not to reveal anything you've seen or learned to her."

Frowning I look at the food confused, worse my stomach flips.

Antone startles me when he starts laughing, throwing his head back, and holding his abdomen while seconds ticked by and I grew rigid.

This was a trick. It had to be. A test.

Antone stops laughing fully and then speaks. "All I'm asking is that you take this tray of food to her. That's all."

"Why not Javier?" I point uselessly but Antone walks away, order given.

~ 0 ~

"I knew you would come!" Devin says the moment I take the final step into the new cellar at the house. Graveled floors, the cells solid concrete much like the interior of the house. Mansion actually.

Hell the place could double as a concrete luxury hotel of some sorts.

Placing the food on the ground before sliding it through the hole in the wrought iron bars I stand, face blank.

Again I eye the opened door I just entered through, unsure.

"They," she spits, "that asshole grandfather and Ansel of yours," I lift a brow. Yep. This was a test.

"They said that you and Javier are choosing not to come see me, but I knew, I knew the minute they let you think for yourself you'd come," I eye the exit. Instead of running out of it because suddenly I imaged that this was just a trap to get me down here willingly and lock me up, I frown at Devin.

"I mean Javier is so far up Talia's poon, he'll do anything, even give me up," she says half angrily, the other half sadly. "But you, I knew-"

"You have to help me get out of here!"

"Antone ordered me to come here," I blurt out taking a step towards the door. If it was possibly going to close on it's own, I wanted to be in leaping distance.

As tears formed and rage took over, I took a step towards Devin. "The only reason I'm not right next to you here-"

"Is because your daddy is the den leader!" Devin cut me off.

I shook my head, "Liam came up with my punishment, Javier and..." then, I just stopped speaking.

"I'm not next to you because even before we arrived here I realized I can do a lot more for the den than out of it. Our actions cost people their lives, and don't say that Angela should have caught it, because you know very well that by me helping you she couldn't!" I was tired of that same old argument from her.

"You played me Devin!" I shout my resentment building. "You told Taylor that you'd help her get Fatima out of the way after you had me back! You remember that? Then you continually and consistently stab me in the back for Taylor... even after Samson said he didn't want her," my voice bounces around the nine-celled holding cellar.

Her eyes widen, tears fall, my vision clouds, and I have to blink away all shows of emotion. "Taylor killed your parents, but we killed more people that her together Devin and somehow I don't understand how – how you are so unaffected by that? These people – I mean just because we did not know them personally didn't mean that their lives were – were – it was wrong, God, you have to see that?" I plead, searching her eyes for something.

"I'm not perfect," Mind. Blown. "What?"

"You – you want me to be perfect," Devin accuses, "You wanted to your parents. We were a team. How – I know you were going to propose... how – how can you just watch as I'm being treated this way?"

I dodged a bullet, I think instantly, but it hits me unexpectedly.

With everything in me I wanted to say that I hadn't wanted Devin to be perfect. But it was not about wanting her to be that way as much as it was believing she was that already. 

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