Disclaimer: I don't own anyone from The Patriot or any of the storyline from Meg Cabot's Mediator series, of which I am loosely basing this plot. I do, however, own Jenna, Maggie, and their parents as well as any other made-up character you see.

A/N: Thank you so much for all the wonderful reviews! I really, really appreciate everyone's words of encouragement and that you all like the story so far. I have this story pretty much planned out to an extent; it's just a matter of putting it together and typing it up. Hope you like chapter 5! Please R&R!

"My country 'tis of thee,

Sweet land of liberty,

Of thee I sing!"

Maggie's little girl voice rang melodiously through the upstairs hallway, coupled with the sound of her footfalls against the floor. It was just past ten-thirty in the morning, and she was parading through the hall waving a miniature version of the American flag in the air while singing some of the patriotic songs they usually taught to the kids in school. Maggie was dressed in red, white, and blue from head to toe—red shorts with a white shirt, which had a sprinkling of red, blue, and silver stars as well as the words, 'Home of the Brave' emblazoned across it in front of a picture of the flag, along with a pair of blue flip-flops. Her dark curls had been pulled up into a ponytail, presumably by their mother, and she had a red fishing-type hat on her head. She liked dressing up for the holidays—she always had. Even though the full weight of what Independence Day was really about couldn't be completely comprehended by her eight year old mind, she knew the basics of what they'd taught her in school. But her favorite part of the day, by far, was the fireworks.

The eight year old paused outside the door of her elder sister's bedroom, wondering how to go about carrying through with her appointed task. Her mother had sent her upstairs to wake Jenna up, and although she knew her big sister wouldn't get mad at her, she wasn't sure what to do. If she knocked, chances were that Jenna wouldn't hear it if she was still asleep. Should she go in and jump on her bed? She'd done that before and it had been a lot of fun. Jenna had woken up right away and they'd had a pillow fight which quickly had progressed into a tickle fight instead.

Rocking back and forth on her heels, Maggie decided to let Jenna sleep a bit longer, resuming the song that she'd been singing before.

"Land where my fathers died!

Land of the Pilgrim's pride!

From every mountain side,

Let freedom ring!"

All of a sudden, the fine hairs on Maggie's arms stood on end. She glanced around, twirling the stick that held the American flag between her fingers. Blue eyes filled with both confusion and fear, she backed up a couple of steps from the door and leaned back, looking up and down the hall. A strange chill came over her and she shivered, getting the distinct feeling that someone was watching her. She couldn't exactly explain or understand it, but it seemed like there was a presence here that didn't like her very much. Ever since Jenna had asked her those questions about the house possibly being haunted, she'd been on edge. She didn't want to admit it to her sister, but she'd been experiencing some weird things, too. Things that scared her; that she didn't like very much. She hoped they would disappear soon—she didn't want to worry Jenna. Maybe it was just her sister's words that had simply put ideas in her head, causing her to imagine things.

There was a slight breeze which swept through the hallway from an unknown source, stirring Maggie's clothes and her ponytail peeking out from under her hat. As far as she could tell, none of the windows were open. She'd felt this odd breeze before, too, and it always made her so cold…

Maggie reached for the handle of her sister's bedroom door, frightened. Her hand had barely graced the cool metal before Jenna tugged it open, greeting her younger sibling with a broad smile. She was already dressed and alert, like she'd been up for some time now. Briefly, Maggie found this weird, since her sibling was rarely up this early on her own, especially when she didn't have school.

"Hey, Mags, I really liked your—" Jenna cut herself off, her cheerful smile fading. She saw the panic-stricken expression plastered on Maggie's face. It immediately worried her, being the overprotective elder sibling that she was. "Are you all right?"

"Uh-huh." Maggie lied, peering down the hall again. Jenna leaned out the doorway, following her sister's gaze with interest and perplexity. She raised an eyebrow, crystal blue eyes scanning the emptiness. Her eyes darted back to her sister, who was still staring off in the other direction. Jenna tapped her lightly on the shoulder to gain her attention. Maggie's head snapped up with a start, locking her shocked stare with Jenna's.

"You're sure everything's okay?" Jenna was skeptical. She knew her sister well. This wasn't Maggie's normal behavior. Something was definitely bothering her, but Jenna didn't want to force any information from her. Maggie would tell her everything when she was ready, or so she hoped.

"Yes."

"What did you need me for?"

"Mom told me to wake you up." Maggie explained, toying with the fabric of the flag in her hands.

"I've been up since nine."

"Oh…well, Daddy said we're leaving in a little bit."

"Leaving? Where are we going?"

Maggie shrugged. "To see the Revolutionary War."

Jenna's face went from being somewhat confused to completely puzzled. She didn't have a chance to ask Maggie what she'd meant by that because her little sister had started skipping toward the stairs. She didn't make any effort to call her back. Instead, Jenna closed the door to her bedroom, shaking her head. The only thing that Jenna could make of her sibling's statement was that her parents were going to drag them off to some history museum for the day. Surprisingly, that thought wasn't as annoying or potentially boring as it could've been. Having a deceased soldier from the period where the American Revolution had been fought had changed Jenna's outlook on the whole subject of history. Maybe some good would come from this outing with her family—maybe she'd find something that would help Gabriel.

The eighteen year old crossed the room to the mirror that had finally been placed on her wall, and grabbed a brush to comb through her hair. She noticed Gabriel in the mirror behind her, thumbing through a book of hers—The Giver. It was one of her favorites; the copy she had was worn out from having it so long and reading it many times over. She could never really get sick of that book.

"You should read that," she told him, "I think you'd find it interesting, considering it sort of relates to your…situation."

"The main character is deceased?"

Jenna chuckled. "No. It has a lot to do with memories."

He nodded, closing the book and pushing it back into its respective spot in the shelf until he got around to reading it thoroughly. Jenna set her hairbrush down and turned to face him. He was leaning against the shelf, skimming through the titles again. He liked her bookshelf, she'd noticed. Not only was it where he'd ended up the first time they met, but Jenna also guessed that maybe he'd been an avid reader in his day. That was an assumption, of course. She didn't know of many guys her age or older who would willingly sit down and read a book. Then again, she had to constantly remind herself that Gabriel wasn't a guy from her time period. She wished more guys now were like him, though.

"So…do you want to go with us?"

That got his attention. "Pardon?"

"My family's going on some history-themed expedition today. As Maggie put it, we're going to 'see the Revolutionary War'—not sure what that involves, really, but you're welcome to come with us. That is, if it isn't too…difficult for you."

Jenna knew the war could possibly still be a sore subject with him, so she didn't want to push it too much.

"Perhaps it will help bring back some memories."

"I was thinking the same. Although, that may not be the most pleasant thing…"

"They're my memories, Jenna. I don't exactly have control over whether or not they are pleasant. They are what they are. I cannot change that."

"Unfortunately." She mumbled, letting her blue eyes wander to the dark blood stain on his clothing for a few short moments. She hated that—she really did. It wasn't that it grossed her out; it made her angry, if anything. She knew that the Revolutionary War had been completely necessary since ultimately no one saw another way to work everything out, but in her mind, that didn't justify the killing of men his age and younger, or the merciless killings of innocent people who weren't soldiers. Couldn't they have settled it…peacefully, without bloodshed? To put it simply, she didn't see the point in war. What point could be made by lining up on a battlefield and shooting at one another until one side was completely wiped out? Gabriel would most likely disagree with some of her thoughts, but that was an argument she wanted to save for another time.

Grabbing a pair of sunglasses from her dresser, she approached the door. "Coming?"

"Better than staying here all day, I suppose."

Jenna narrowed her eyes at him. "Hey, that's my house you're talking about. I'd watch it if I were you. You insult my house again, I'll have to start calling you Gabrielle. Or Gabriella. It's only fair."

Gabriel cringed, a smile tugging at his lips. "I did not mean anything by it. Honest."

"Sure you didn't," Jenna crossed her arms over her chest. I'm totally flirting with him… she thought, amused. He was clearly not enjoying being called a girl, either. Maybe he was simply playing along. She wasn't positive. "Ooh, look, your hair's even long…Gabriella." She gestured to his somewhat wavy golden blond hair, which was thrown up in a short and messy ponytail, secured with a piece of cloth.

"Now, this is where I draw the line," Gabriel smiled, "First you mock my age, then you mock my hair…is this how you usually make friends with others?"

"Is it working?" she challenged. Is he flirting back?

"As of this moment, I would have to go with a resounding no," he teased. "Undoubtedly, they must have omitted the lessons on kindness at your school, or you simply never took heed of those details."

Jenna looked at him, wide-eyed. "Ouch, I'm impressed. I think you just burned me in your fancy eighteenth-century lingo."

"And you've bewildered me with yours."

"Touché," Jenna stuck out her hand and they shook on it. "We're even." She was about to open her bedroom door when she stopped, another thought hitting her. "You're going to have to make yourself invisible the entire day, or else my parents will have a lot of questions I'm not prepared to answer."

"I'm better at that, remember?" he reminded Jenna. Suddenly, he evaporated into thin air right in front of her. She looked around quickly, her eyes wide.

"Gabe? How am I supposed to know where you are?" she asked, hands on her hips. Something brushed against her ear and made her jump. Whipping her head back and forth, she tried to find out where he was.

"You can still hear me," He whispered into her ear. His hand, invisible to the eye but nevertheless a solid presence, settled on her shoulder. It immediately startled her again; it wasn't that cold, but the action had been unexpected. "And I am able to contact you, if you're unsure whether or not I'm there. If you need that reassurance, of course. I won't be running away on you."

"I hope not."

"Not anytime soon."

"Good. It wouldn't hurt to have my own personal tour guide today."

"Then, allow me to escort you."

It was a little odd to be speaking to a disembodied voice, but Jenna went with it. She left her room at last, with Gabriel—supposedly—at her side. Traveling downstairs to the kitchen, she put on her sunglasses, pushing them up above her forehead so they would stay there until she needed them. She found her sister seated at the kitchen table, twirling her little flag, while her mother stood at the sink washing dishes from what Jenna guessed had been the breakfast she didn't come downstairs for. Her father, however, was nowhere in sight.

"Jenna," her mother looked up, offering a smile, "Nice of you to join us. I didn't know what to think when Maggie said you've been up since nine o'clock this morning. No breakfast?"

"Nah, I'm fine."

"Your father's loading the cooler into the car. We should be leaving shortly." She wiped her hands off on a towel and began putting the dishes and coffee mugs into the cabinets above the sink. "Maggie, why don't you go ask your father if he needs anything else for the car?" Maggie, nodding, skipped toward the back door humming another one of her patriotic songs, and went outside.

"Did he say where we're going?" the teenager asked, avoiding her mom's hard glance after referring to her father as he instead of something more respectful and polite. Pausing her current chore, Mrs. Copeland stopped to address the matter.

"Jenn, how much longer are you going to drag this out?" she wanted to know. "It's been almost three months."

"Mom, I don't want to talk about this right now."

"This grudge of yours needs to end, honey—"

"Please, Mom, can we discuss this later?"

Jenna's cheeks were beginning to turn a light shade of pink, knowing that Gabriel was somewhere in the room listening and watching this conversation unfold. She knew he wouldn't be the type of person to pry at her private business and family issues, but it was still embarrassing. He would have a lot of questions about it—questions he would never ask, until Jenna was willing to bring it up herself. She wasn't sure if she wanted to dig up the memories from that horrendous night and explain everything to a ghost from the eighteenth century. She was sure that he wouldn't understand much of it.

Still, her mother persisted. Jenna sighed in defeat, crossing her arms over her chest.

"—I can't stand seeing the two of you not speaking to each other. Whatever happened to 'forgive and forget'?"

"I'm not the only one who's having a hard time with that. Try talking to him."

"You're both so stubborn," she mused. "Just…promise me you won't fight today. Maybe a nice, family outing will do you both some good."

Jenna tried to open her mouth to say something, but her mother stopped her, holding up a hand.

"I think you might want to bring your camera for this one." She smiled.

"Why?"

"We're seeing a Revolutionary War re-enactment."

Jenna had to prevent her mouth from dropping open. This wasn't what she'd been expecting. Far from it, actually. She thought they were visiting a museum somewhere with a special exhibit devoted to the events surrounding Independence Day, or at least some kind of American History museum, with a fireworks display at night. But a Revolutionary War re-enactment? That sounded both very fascinating and slightly foreboding. She wondered if Gabe was still all right with tagging along now that they were going to be witnessing his past played out in front of them like some live-action movie. Then again, maybe this would definitely spark some of his memories…

Yet, Jenna was even worried about that. What would being surrounded by war again do to him?