*AN UNEDITED HOT MESS BC MY INTERNET KEPT GOING OUT*

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

MAXIE CHOKES ON A sob as she watches the bloodbath unfold below her. She clenches her fists, knowing she has to do something but she isn't sure how. She's barely grasped what the doctor has done to her, much less learn how to control... whatever it is. Besides, there's too many allies mixed with the enemies for her to cause some grand explosion. She could kill everyone.

She has to go down there.

It's the only way to save everyone.

She takes a deep breath before rushing back for the ladder. Harry told her to not come down under any circumstances, but she can't keep sitting here watching everyone die. She saw Micah get stabbed and Killian's petrified face. She heard Eve screaming desperately for Harry after Max fell to his knees. She can't let anyone else get hurt.

She can't.

Once her feet hit the ground, she knows what she needs to do. She grabs the back of an ally's shirt, telling him to spread the word of retreat. He looks at her like she's insane, but also with a bit of relief. However, considering her age, he scoffs at her and turns back to the crowd, bow in hand.

"I said," Maxie repeats with newfound confidence, snatching the bow out of his hand with a simple thought. He looks at her differently now, practically terrified. "Spread the word of retreat."

"What the..."

"Go!" she snaps, already moving forward.

She needs to get the allies as far away as possible in case this goes terribly wrong. Which is very well could.

Gavriel is the first to spot her. "Hey," he says, grabbing her forearm. "Harry told you to stay on the roof."

"I have to do something," she pleads, meeting his stare determinedly. "Please. Trust me."

Gavriel isn't clueless to what Maxie can do, so he holds her gaze a second longer before nodding unsurely, hesitantly letting her go. "Fine," he mumbles, "but I'm staying with you."

"You might get hurt."

"Yeah, and Harry might kill me if I don't stay with you, so I'll take my chances."

She knows better than to argue, so the two of them continue onwards. Gavriel stops anyone from getting too close with dangerous efficiency, comforting and frightening Maxie simultaneously. She keeps her eyes averted from the blood covering him. She's positive none of it is his.

It seems the man from before had spread the word like she asked. Many allies are looking around in confusion, backing off though the enemies push forwards. Maxie halts in her tracks when she's sure she's in the best position, just in front of the ally line. She motions Gavriel to step back, then sucks in a breath and closes her eyes. She can hear the growling, the screeching. She knows they're coming for her.

She doesn't know where it comes from, but she feels it. This incredible surge of energy through her body and then suddenly--it escapes her.

The screams intensify from her own doing.

She's doesn't open her eyes as every lost drop of strength leaves her body.

Gavriel catches her before she falls to her knees.

The area is entirely silent without moments.

Maxie's tears slip through her closed eyes--she's scared to open them.

Then she feels Gavriel beside her ear and he whispers, "Maxie, you did it."

***

Micah groans as he regains consciousness. A sharp pain races through his body when he tries to sit up, then there's two hands on either of his shoulders holding him down.

"Stop, you idiot!"

He opens his eyes to see Killian's face right in front of his. There are tear streaks down Killian's cheeks.

"Harry said a sudden movement could rip the wound back up and you'd have to heal all over again," he tells him. "It's taking a long time to close."

"Why were you crying?" Micah asks, pinching Killian's chin between his forefinger and thumb as he inspects the boy. "Are you hurt?"

Killian gawks at him like he's lost his mind. "You really are an idiot."

"What?"

"You almost died Micah," Killian whispers. "Of course I was crying--and hurt."

"Oh," Micah mumbles. "Right. My bad."

"Are you apologizing for almost dying?"

"Yes."

"Well, you're not forgiven because it was my fault anyways. You shouldn't have jumped in the way like that. Like some... cliche superhero shit."

"I'd do it again," Micah tells him honestly. "And again. And again if I had to."

Killian's cheeks flush, but he smirks. "Careful, you're starting to sound as disgustingly cute as Harry."

"Oh God. Don't let me get to that point," Micah grumbles, trying to sit up yet again.

And yet again, Killian pushes him down. "Stop being stupid already."

Micah sighs and lays his head back on the pillow, scanning the room. They seem to be in an open clinic. There's many beds lining the walls with a person occupying each one, undoubtedly from the battle. Micah can't remember if they won. Or if they did, how they did. He passed out from blood loss not too long after being stabbed.

Then he sees Eve sitting on the edge of a bed, Max's hand in hers. He can't see her crying, but he can hear her quiet sniffles with his advanced hearing. His chest aches at the sound, and at how small and frail she looks. He's never quite seen her so broken.

"Is Max going to be all right?" he whispers to Killian, although Eve is on the other side of the room, he doesn't want her to hear.

Killian follows his gaze and sighs. "They aren't sure right now. He lost a lot of blood, but Harry got to them right in the knick of time to keep him breathing. One doctor thinks he'll be awake soon and another thinks he'll be dead within a day."

Micah closes his eyes. He can feel Eve's pain as well as his own.

He comes back to reality and meets Killian's gaze. "Where are we and how did we get here?"

Killian chuckles. "Nicola is more of a leader than she first seemed. After Maxie won the fight for us, Nicola got all the survivors on transports and, well, here we are in Washington D.C. On the very grounds the president's house sits. It's a clinic Nicola had built near the beginning of the war. She took over the White House when the president when missing."

"Let me guess. New president?"

"I think that's her goal. Honestly, I might vote for her if that's what it comes to. She comes in every day to check on the survivors and brings extra rations. I think there's more to her than she wants people to see."

"Great," Micah says with a roll of his eyes. "This country needs a lot more than a good president to save it."

"True," Killian says. "But I think with enough people, and with Nicola, things could go back to normal sometime."

"Are you saying all the experiments are dead?"

"Well, no. But most of the ones who called themselves 'leaders' are captured, and the doctor's execution is set for tomorrow night."

Micah's eyes widen at this. "How long have I been out?"

"About a week."

"Killian!"

"What? I'm trying my best here to catch you up!"

Micah sighs, bringing a hand up to rub his face before he hisses through his teeth, glaring at his hand. He's got bandages wrapped around both his palms. Right. He forgot he practically caught a sword.

He doesn't know what to think about the doctor's execution. Not because he used to have respect for him--oh no, he lost that respect a long time ago. However, he always dreamt about having all of these things done to him reversed. Of being normal again. Of having his memories back. That's what he wants the most; his memories.

He can't get those if the doctor is dead.

He knows it's possible--Harry got his back. But are his memories worth keeping that wretched human being alive? He doesn't think he's the right person to answer that.

He feels exhausted already. He doesn't know if it's from trying to sit up, from talking, or from thinking. He wants to go back to sleep.

He using his fingers to grab Killian's wrist, careful not to hit his palm. He tugs Killian down to where he's lying beside him.

"Wake me up when it's time for him to die," he whispers and closes his eyes.

***

Harry walks with Nicola down the line of prisoners, all secured in electric cages with shackles around their wrists and ankles. He meets the gazes of men he once knew and his chest constricts, but he keeps his chin up and keeps moving. He can't feel sorry for these men who betrayed him. He shouldn't, but he does.

"What do you plan to do with all of them?" he asks Nicola.

There weren't many enemies who survived when Maxie nearly lit the entire forest afire, but there's still a decent amount of them trapped in here. Most Nicola had before she went to Leo's camp. She's been settled here for a long time.

"Some have execution dates, depending on what they did to be captured," she explains. "I'm trying to set up a system like we used to have, you know, a fair trial and all of that. But if I know they're guilty, why waste my own time?"

He shrugs. It's a fair point, he supposes.

"Anyways. The others will have trials to determine their sentences, which I can nearly guarantee about all of them will rot in here. I know you used to be one of them, but it's what they deserve."

Again, he shrugs. He doesn't feel connected to them anymore.

He halts immediately, though, when his eyes lock on Wolf in particular. Wolf is already looking at him, grinning as smugly as ever. He refuses to believe he's lost. He's still convinced his men will come find him.

Harry contemplates on speaking, then figures that's exactly what Wolf wants him to do. So instead he walks off, the smile instantly dropping from Wolf's face.

"Get back here, you coward!" Wolf screams. He continues shouting a string of profanities and insults until Nicola and Harry round the corner.

"A fiesty yet annoying one, he is."

"Don't I know it," Harry mutters.

"A friend of yours?"

"We never got along."

Nicola hums. "At least you've always had decency in you."

"Is this necessary?" Harry asks. "Putting him all the way in the back?"

"Of course. I don't want him conversing with the others, trying to get a plan going or something. They would never successfully escape, but still. It's best to keep him isolated from the rest since he's the instigator."

They stop in front of a steel door, different from the rest of the cells. This one has a slot to slide open and closed and a giant padlock on the handle. There's two guards on either side of it. Harry almost sighs at the extent they've gone too. The man isn't stupid enough to try something he knows he can't win at.

Nicola snaps and the guard nearest unlocks the door. "Well, I'll give you two a moment or so. Don't be surprised that I'll be listening."

"Still don't trust me, eh?"

"It's a bad habit of mine," she admits. He can't blame her.

He steps in the room, the door slamming behind him.

The doctor sits in the corner of the cement cell, his head leaning back on the wall with his legs sprawled out in front of him. He smiles when he sees Harry.

"My boy. I knew I could count on you," he says in a sickeningly sweet tone.

"Don't get your hopes up," Harry growls. "I'm here for information, not for you."

The doctor sits up straighter but doesn't stand. "What do you want? Anything for you."

"Stop talking like that."

"Like what? You know you're my favorite--"

Harry is in front of him in an instant, hand wrapped around the elder's man's throat. "Stop talking for five damn minutes for once in your life."

The doctor's eyes widen as he nods.

Harry steps back. "How do you restore memories?"

The doctor chuckles, unnerved. "Why on earth do you need to know that? You have yours."

"I have friends that need theirs, too."

"I'm the only one who can do it."

"Bullshit," Harry snaps. "You're not the only surgeon on the planet."

The doctor clears his throat, straightening the collar of his torn shirt with his wrists bound together. "Yes, but I am the only one with knowledge in the field."

"Quit lying. You and I both know you're dying tomorrow. There's no need to die with your method. Don't you want your genius to be known?" Harry replies snarkily, glaring at him.

The doctor genuinely considers it. Then he sighs dramatically and clammers to his feet. "I don't know why I should tell you. You haven't returned any of my kindness in months."

Harry balls his fists to hold his temper. "Tell me how you do it."

"One condition." The doctor begins to grin in that way that sends chills down Harry's spine.

"I'm not postponing your death."

"That's not the condition."

"What do you want?" Harry is so tired of always playing his games.

"One final moment with you," the doctor says. "I want us to have dinner tonight. Just the two of us. Like old times."

Harry actually cringes, disgusted by the idea of spending more than ten minutes with the man.

"You know I'm a man of my word, Harry," the doctor continues. "Have a dinner with me--just one quick dinner--and I'll tell you how to return 752's and 758's (i forgot gavriel's experiment number, yikes i'm a flop) memories. Deal?"

Harry wants to refuse, but it's too good of a chance to pass up. Even if he doesn't get the information he wants, the old man is still dying tomorrow. This is his last shot to prove his gratitude to Micah and Gavriel. To Gavriel, who's been by his side since day one, and to Micah, who's sacrificed a lot and called Harry his leader.

If anyone deserves their memories back, it's them.

That's why Harry stifles a flinch and shakes the old man's hand, "Deal."

(also, i published another book! it's not a fanfic, but it's called "wanderlust" if any of you are interested since this series is coming to an end. thank you x)