"Alistair we fucking gotta go, fucking now!" Alexander hissed, tapping Alistair incessantly on the shoulder, "Just because you used to live here doesn't mean you can get out of this place in three seconds if someone were to come! We're running out of time."

Alistair held up a finger to his lips, his other hand motioning for Alex to stop.

There was a pattering of footsteps that slowly faded as the person walked away. When no noise could be heard, Alistair breathed out in relief.

"Don't fucking do that again! I'm front-liner for a reason, asshole."

Alex scowled, knocking him on the back of the head.

Alistair glowered, rubbing his head with annoyance. "Stop abusing me, please. And you couldn't find your way out of this place to save your life! If I wasn't such a good friend, I'd sprint outta here and leave your sorry ass behind," he growled under his breath.

He walked further down the hallway, watching as his feet took steps across the floor, his dusty white-turned-grey sneakers a contrast to the glossy marble tiles.  Alexander followed behind him, his footfalls silent.

It had been almost ten years since he'd been here, but everything still looked the same. He had once run these halls with glee, and with fear, depending on the day. He let his hands glide across the walls, making Alexander sigh in irritation.

"Let's just go, okay?"

"Why are you so anxious to leave? What, you got a booty call to get to or something?"

Alexander's eyes flitted around. "I feel like we're being watched. I have a bad feeling in my stomach. We already have what we came here for, let's just go."

Alistair shook his head stubbornly, continuing his stroll down the hall. "You can go first. I want to look around, for a bit."

"There's no fucking way in hell I'm leaving you here alone, and you know that."

"Then stay," Alistair smirked, eyes trailing over every mural that hung on the lavender coloured walls.

He cringed at them. Lavender was an old-person aesthetic. He'd always hated the colour.

He snickered softly at the loud groan Alexander let out from behind him. Glancing around the corner, he froze when he came face to face with a peach-coloured door.

Mother's study.

His hand reached for the knob wistfully.

"Hey, Alistair, don't do it, she might be inside you fucking idiot," Alexander warned, pulling Alistair's hand back.

The boy shushed Alex, turning the doorknob anyway. The door opened with a tiny creak, causing Alex to jump into Alistair.

Alistair peered into the room, eyes prickling with tears, his heart rising and sinking. It rises because the room looks the same. The same disgusting blossoms on the table, the wooden study table Alistair used to sit under when Father whipped the cane out, the pens scattered on the side desk. his heart sank when he saw the portraits of the Rockwood family.

Alistair's eyes lingered on the empty space in between Mr and Mrs Rockwood.

"Please Pa I'm sorry! I'm sorry, I'm sorry, please stop, please stop, please stop," begged Alistair, hands held back by Mother, as Father threw clothes into a suitcase.

"I said I'm sorry Ma and Pa, what more do you want of me?" he sobbed, thrashing in Mother's arms.

"I want you gone," Pa snarled.

Alistair choked, looking up at the man he once thought had hung the moon for him to marvel at, the man who had given him a hug when he had dropped his ice-cream. Where was that man?

This wasn't his father.

"Alistair, are you sure being in here is okay for you?"

Alistair blinked, mouth dry, before nodding.

"These are the still  waters of my childhood, however rocky it was."

He stared at the portrait of Mother, a hand reaching out to stroke it, but jerking his hand back when his fingertips grazed the cold varnish of the painting. The artist had captured his mother's glittering sea-green eyes perfectly.

He missed those eyes.

Alexander shifted uncomfortably from one foot to another. "Alistair, if she comes in, the whole thing goes to shit, you know that right?"

Alistair sighed and said, "Fine, alright, just, one more minute okay?"

He walked over to the study table, its wooden structure polished and shiny. Mother had used to work long nights every day on this table, and Alistair had had the habit of sneaking in and watching her quietly.

He opened the drawer of the study desk. He wasn't sure what he was looking for, but he wanted something, anything, that he could take and keep to relieve the ache inside of him. His fingers grasped a frame, and he pulled it out, fingers shaking.

It was a family picture, one of the few that had been taken of them together, as a family. Alistair was laughing arms around Mother, with his brother, Alias sitting at Father's side, with their arms around each other.

Alias had always been the favourite child of his father.

His fingers traced the gold design of the frame, the flowery pattern exactly what Mother would choose.

Mother had used to display this picture on the mantel, but here it was, tucked away in a drawer nobody opened, as though this family was a forgotten memory, as though he was like a forgotten memory.

"Alistair we should go," Alexander pleaded, looking at his watch.

"Okay fine-" Alistair halted, as they heard footsteps flattering just down the hall.

"Ma'am, I'm sure, I heard something in your study, we should just give it a look, in case," the disembodied voice inquired.

The pair looked at each other, with Alistair grabbing the bag swiftly.

"Through the window, hurry!"

They tumbled out the window, sitting under the window's ledge, hearts beating fast.

They could hear pacing coming fro the study and the ruffle of items moving. there was the sound of a drawer opening and a small gasp.

"Ma'am? Is everything okay?"

"Yes, thank you. Everything is fine, just fine."

Alistair's heart dropped at his mother's cold, authoritative voice. The voice that had once put him to sleep with its sweet sound and a short lullaby.

Alexander tugged his shoulder, pointing towards a rope he had tied to the ledge.

"Let's go," he whispered urgently.

Alistair nodded, sneaking a glance through the window, watching his mother look frantically through the drawer for what he hoped was the photograph. She lifted her head, letting Alistair catch a glimpse of her eyes, and he let himself slide down the rope, the frame heavy in his pocket.

Mother, I'm sorry.

They sprinted to a large oak tree not too far from the Rockwell mansion, where the rest of the group was. When Arthur spotted them, he stood up with a grin.

"How'd it go guys?"

"It went great," said Alistair with a smile.

"No, it fuckin' didn't!"

Alistair looked down at the grass meekly, fingers gripping the photo-frame.

"It's almost like you were stalling just to see her, you fucking idiot!" Alexander whispered, although loud enough for the group to hear if they had been listening.

Alistair glared at Alexander, looking at the rest of the group with his hands up in defence. "I promise I wasn't guys, I was just looking around, you know how it is. Why on earth would I want to see a random woman?"

"Well, uh, anyway, we have one more stop, we should start moving there. Mr O'Hamington's meeting ends at 11:30 am. We have about three hours," Arthur stated.

Alistair bit his lip uncomfortably.

"Right, O'Hamington Mansion here we come," he drawled.

The walk there wasn't a quiet one, with Alexander chiding Alistair every five-seconds for almost messing the whole operation up. Alistair blurred out his voice, and instead traced the gold carvings of the photo-frame in his pocket.

"Alistair, Alistair!" Will Stutely tapped his shoulder incessantly, "We're here."

Alistair gulped, closing his eyes. Get your act together, asshole.

He nodded at Alexander and the two of them crept to the backdoor, which Alistair knew was the only way they could enter without being seen. Everett had told him that. Why the fuck had Everett offered up that information to him, willingly?

Alistair felt his stomach heat up, as though it was on fire. He shook his head, ignoring it, and pushing ahead with Alexander. They walked nonchalantly, but quietly up the stairs. Outside, Alan and Gilbert were hacking into the camera system and deflecting all the cameras away from them.

That coding class really did come in handy.

The pair followed the blueprints that the Wills had drawn for them, following the arrows to the master bedroom for the O'Hamington couple. Chances were, they had a secret safe under their bed.

It was such a cliche spot to hide it, but that was precisely why the O'Hamington's hid it there. In plain sight. It was a good thing Alistair thought simply.

And if they didn't, they would just take Mrs O'Hamington's jewellery. Either way, it was a win for Alistair.

Alistair turned the doorknob confidently, knowing for a fact, both O'Hamingtons were out, and the two had the room all to themselves.

The two of them separated to find the respective items that they had planned to uh, borrow. His eyes trailed over the room, landing on the golden box on the dresser. Wow, she didn't even bother to hide it.

Alistair tried to stuff the bag with the jewellery, with Alexander behind him, hacking into the safe underneath the bed. He paused, a weight in his heart. Why did doing this feel so wrong?

Everett.

Alistair sighed, the guilt like ice in his insides. He refused to let himself stop, reminding himself that he was doing this for Emmy.

Emmy Emmy Emmy Emmy Emmy Everett-

Fucking hell.

"Alistair, why'd you stop? What's wrong with you today?" Alexander questioned, looking suspiciously at him.

"Hey, Ma, where's the tapioca flour I bought last week?" someone shouted, sounding as if they were just done the hall. Fuck, was that Everett?

Alistair and Alexander froze, as the person closer. Heart rates increasing, they stuffed everything into the cargo bag, making a mad dash for the window. What was it with them and windows today?

"Ma?"

Alistair paled further, if that was even possible, pushing Alexander out the window. His heart beat in his chest, pounding, banging, as though it was trying to escape.

"Fuck, go go go go, Alexander, quickly!"

"I'm trying, it's just this window is small okay? Fuck, okay your turn. Hurry the fuck up!" Alexander rambled, face red.

They halted when the doorknob turned with a creak like an animal that had just let out its last cry.

"A-Alistair? What the? What the hell are you- what the fuck are you doing?"

- - -

a/n: hey friends, another chapter! Hope you enjoyed. If you missed my previous announcement, TCBA reached 1k reads last night! THANK YOU! I first published tcba's synopsis on the 28th of Feb, and its come a long way since then!

any feedback for me? I'd love to hear it! writing_with_sass an extra-long chapter just for you, as requested!

OH and I'm making a playlist, if you have any songs you think will suit the theme of TCBA, tell me, please! and hope you guys like the new cover :-)

sky c.