Darn Stupid Brother You Are

(Angel's POV)

My fingers trembled as I pressed them against the cold wooden door.

A locked door.

It was thick and old, one of those heavy ones that creaked with old secrets.

I felt the thrum of something behind it, a low hum like a steady heartbeat. It was a kind of sound that made my skin crawl.

This wasn't the first time I had stood there. The West Wing.

It was off-limits. Dangerous, they said.

But I couldn't help myself. There was something behind that door. Something they didn't want us to know.

And with all that has been going on - Hendrix telling me about what happened in the infirmary that unfateful day, Emily disappearing, Dr. Nixon and Dr. Joe's weird dynamics, the persistent noises I heard at night - I couldn't sit still.

I swallowed hard, my throat dry. Hendrix's voice still echoed in my head, telling me not to be stupid, telling me to stay safe. But staying safe in that place felt like waiting to die. And I wasn't going to wait.

The metal lock was old and rusted in parts, like it hadn't been opened in years. My hands were sweating as I ran my fingertips over the grooves, trying to figure out how to get past it. I didn't know why, but my heart raced faster and faster until it was the only sound I could hear.

Then creak.

The hairs on my neck stood up.

Footsteps. Heavy and slow, coming closer.

I jerked my hand back from the door, hiding behind one of the dark corners of the hallway. My heart pounded, thundering in my chest like a warning bell.

"Don't," I whispered to myself. "Don't get caught."

The steps grew louder. My breath quickened.

A shadow passed through the dim light of the hallway, long and stretched like a hunter chasing its prey.

My fingers curled into my palm and my nails dug into my skin. The shadow stopped. Right in front of the door.

I held my breath.

The figure moved, but not toward the door. It walked down the hall. The steps faded until there was nothing but silence again. A heavy silence.

I exhaled slowly, careful not to make a sound.

This place...it was choking me.

I slipped back toward the lounge, feeling like I had barely escaped with my life. Every part of me was shaking, the rush of energy fading fast. When I reached the door to the lounge, I pushed it open and slipped inside, letting the heavy door close behind me.

Hendrix was there, lying on a bean bag, staring up at the ceiling like nothing was wrong.

Like he hadn't noticed how my world was falling apart.

I hated him for it. His calmness. His way of just being in the middle of all this mess. Or maybe he was just better at hiding it.

"What are you doing nosing around this late at night? Where were you?" he asked, not looking at me.

"I was just " My voice cracked. I cleared my throat and shrugged. "Out. Why aren't you sleeping in your room?" I tried to turn the attention back to him.

He turned his head, his dark eyes locking onto mine. It was like he could see right through me.

"You've been looking around again, haven't you?"

I opened my mouth to deny it, but what was the point? He knew. He always knew.

"Maybe," I muttered and crossed my arms over my chest. "So what if I was?"

"Angel..." His voice got lower, almost a growl. It did something to me, something I wasn't ready to admit. "I told you to stop. This place is dangerous."

"And you think I don't know that?" I snapped, and my voice rose. "You think I don't feel it? Every second I'm here, it's like...like I'm being watched. We're being watched."

He sat up and ran his hand through his dark, messy hair. His eyes looked shadowed and tired, but there was something else there, something deep that he hid behind that expression he's been wearing lately.

"I just don't want you to get hurt," he said, and his voice was quieter than I'd ever heard it.

That caught me off guard. Hendrix, caring?

I laughed, but it was bitter and hollow. "Yeah, well, I don't exactly have a choice now, do I? Not with all that's been coming out of the bag."

He stood up and moved closer. Too close. I felt the heat of his body and the tension between us, thick and suffocating.

"Angel," he murmured, and his voice was barely above a whisper. "I'm serious. You need to stop."

My heart raced again, but this time it wasn't from fear. It was something else, something dangerous. His hand brushed mine for just a second, but it was enough to send a jolt through me.

I pulled back and stepped away, my breath shallow. "I can't."

His eyes darkened, and his jaw clenched tight. "You're going to get yourself killed."

"Then at least I'll die knowing the truth," I snapped, and my voice shook. "You might be fine just sitting here and pretending everything's normal, but I'm not. Something's happening in this place, Hendrix. Something bad. You've also attested to this. I won't stop until I know what it is."

His hand gripped my arm, firm but not painful. It was just enough to make me stop and feel.

"You think I don't know that?" he said, his voice low and intense. "You think I don't feel it too? Do you think I'm acting normal because I've forgotten those warnings and heads-up I gave you days ago?"

I froze. The way he looked at me it was like he had been carrying something too. Besides what he told me two days ago, was he hiding something else from me? Something dark and heavy? Like maybe, he was just as scared as I was but of something worse?

But before I could say anything, he let go and stepped back and turned away.

I stood there and stared at his back, my mind racing.

I was mad at him. I was mad at him for making me feel this way, for making me feel anything at all. Worst of all, I was mad he was pretending now he didn't care that this center could as well be a prison to us and we should prioritize finding a way out.

But I couldn't stop.

I couldn't stop worrying about him or thinking about his health. And I hated myself for it.

There was a knock at the door, sharp and loud.

Hendrix and I jumped and for a second, I saw the panic flash in his eyes.

He glanced at me before he walked to the door and pulled it open just a crack.

Dr. Nixon stood there with her face twisted into that cold and familiar scowl, but there was something different in her eyes. Something wild. The right side of her face had healed a lot and looked much better than it did three days ago. "You," she said and pointed at me. "I need to speak with you now."

My stomach dropped. I glanced at Hendrix who was frowning but he didn't say anything as I stood up.

Why would she want to talk to me now? Why was she suddenly being this direct with me?

"I'll be right back," I told him and he just nodded.

She led me out into the hallway and her eyes darted around like she was making sure we were alone.

"What do you want?" I asked and kept my voice steady.

Dr. Nixon stared at me and for the first time, I saw something other than coldness in her eyes. There was a flicker of uncertainty and fear. "You need to be careful, Angel," she said quietly.

I frowned as my heart beat faster. "What are you talking about?"

She glanced around and her voice dropped even lower. "This place...it's not what it seems. There's more going on here than you understand."

I crossed my arms and tried to keep my composure. "You're not making any sense. Why are you telling me this now?"

Dr. Nixon shifted uncomfortably and for a moment, I thought she wouldn't answer. "I've seen things," she whispered. "Things that made me question everything about this place."

I stared at her and confusion and suspicion swirled in my mind. "What things? And why should I believe anything you say?"

Her eyes met mine and I saw that flicker of guilt again. "You shouldn't," she admitted. "Not completely. But I'm telling you this because... I can't stand by anymore. Not after everything."

I took a step back and my skin crawled. "After everything you did to Hendrix?" I snapped. "You think you can just come here and warn me and I'll trust you?"

She winced and I saw regret flash across her face. "I had to do it," she said quietly. "I had no choice. They were watching me. If I didn't follow orders, they would've killed me."

My heart twisted but I couldn't let myself soften. "What orders?"

She hesitated and looked down the hallway again like she expected someone to come any second. "The treatments," she muttered. "They're not what they seem. This whole center is a cover for something else."

I clenched my fists and frustration bubbled up inside me. "Then say it. What is this place really doing?"

She swallowed hard. "I don't have all the details," she muttered. "But I know that patients here... they aren't here to be cured. They're being prepared for something."

I shook my head. "Why should I believe you?"

Dr. Nixon sighed and her shoulders slumped like the weight of her words was crushing her. "Because I've been here long enough to see things that don't make sense and I know that if you keep poking around, you're going to end up like the others."

My blood turned cold. "The others?"

She nodded. "The ones who disappeared. They weren't sent home, Angel. They were taken."

I stepped back as my heart pounded so hard I thought it might burst. "And you want me to just take your word for it? After everything?"

"I'm not asking you to believe me," she said and her voice was barely more than a whisper. "I'm asking you to be careful. And if you can, keep Hendrix out of it. He's in more danger than you realize."

"Why are you telling me this?" I demanded. "Why now?"

Dr. Nixon's expression softened and for a moment, I saw a hint of vulnerability. "Because I'm tired," she said. "I'm tired of pretending and I don't want to be part of this anymore. But if you tell anyone else, they'll kill me."

I didn't respond. I didn't trust her. But I couldn't ignore the fear in her eyes.

"You need to meet me tomorrow," she said suddenly. "Noon. Behind the east wing."

"Why?" I asked as my voice trembled. "What's there?"

"Answers," she said simply. "But you have to come alone."

And with that, she turned and walked away, leaving me standing there with more questions than answers.

I returned to the lounge and Hendrix looked up at me with eyes full of worry. "What did she say?"

I shook my head and my mind raced. "Nothing that made sense," I lied as I tried to piece everything together. "But something's not right, Hendrix."

He nodded and his jaw tightened. "We need to figure out what's really going on."

And I knew deep down that this was only the beginning.