[LIFE IS A CAROUSEL]

November 4, 2011

As I wandered around the crowded hall, my eyes were locked on the exchange going on between Cammie and Preston. I didn't even notice where I was walking until I knocked into someone.

"Oh, my God, I'm so sorry!" I gushed, turning to help the elder man regain balance, and that's all it took for my focus to stray from Cammie and the crackling comms to the man in front of me. He looked expensive, as if he was worth something, though I couldn't help comparing him to Albert Einstein.

The man smiled, and that's when I saw it. His teeth were too white, too straight, too there for him to be an old man.

"What are you doing here?" I asked, my hands snapping to my side. My eyes searched frantically for my teammates; Cammie was still conversing with Preston, Macey was still wandering around at her father's side, while Liz was still at the window.

The only thing that had changed was that I was talking to Zach Goode instead of circling Cammie, like I was supposed to.

He smirked and raised a bushy eyebrow. "How'd you recognise me?"

I, too, raised an eyebrow. He turned me around and came to stand beside me; we were both looking at Cammie, though everyone else would think we were staring at Preston. "She looks beautiful," I heard Zach say.

She did. Her black dress was clinging to her, her wig was cascading down her back, no doubt tickling the exposed skin there, and her eyes were now a deep green.

That wasn't what shocked me.

What shocked me was the fact that Zach was speaking so highly of Cammie. I knew he liked her, but I never imagined him saying something like that so outright and to one of her best friend's nonetheless.

"What are you doing here?" I repeated.

He still didn't look at me. "Came to see Joe," he spoke softly, gesturing towards a man ten feet behind us, staring at us.

I thought I'd seen Joe Solomon angry after the whole Josh thing. Nope, turns out Joe Solomon's angry side was one that no one wanted to witness. I smiled weakly at him, attempting to lighten him up, before I turned back to facing Cammie.

"I wish I'd known her since the start of sophomore year. I wanted to be her first boyfriend, her first kiss, the reason for her to sneak out-" he started to say.

I cut him off. "Josh was her only boyfriend."

Zach looked pained. Truly pained. "Not the point."

I was shocked. Zach Goode had never been one to wear his emotions on his sleeve, but right then, I could read him like a book.

I was about to respond, but Cammie had escaped Preston and was walking away. Zach noticed too. She was heading towards something. Solomon. I guess Zach took that as his cue to follow Solomon, so he did.

He turned back to me. "I'm always going to be there for her, unlike Josh. Always, even if she doesn't know it." He dropped a kiss on my cheek, before disappearing into the tunnel, following Solomon. Not a minute later, Cammie followed. It was the first time I'd heard him call Josh by his name, instead of Jimmy.

I didn't mention my encounter with Zach to anyone, and I'm pretty sure he was thankful of that.

[DANCING 'ROUND THE MIRRORS, WE GO UP AND DOWN]

August 11, 2012

Zach came to us two weeks into the summer break. Well, he came to me. Before school had ended, my parents had offered to take Zach for the summer. I doubt they expected him to run away the first day vacation started. I had expected it.

He knocked on my window at 2 in the morning, probably thinking I'd be asleep. I wasn't. He was dirty, he smelled strange, his clothes were ripped, and his backpack was broken.

I let him in, careful not to wake my parents. Neither of us exchanged words. I led him to a bathroom, showed him how the shower worked, and left him to get cleaned up while I went into the laundry room and snatched a pair of my dad's sweatpants and worn-out baseball jersey's.

By the time I had returned to my room on the third floor, Zach had gotten out of the shower and was stood in the middle of my room, a towel wrapped around his waist. Any other day, I would've dwelled on how his muscles glistened, or how he had an eight-pack. But I just stared at the scars on his chest.

"Here," I said, handing him to clothes. I turned around while he changed.

"Thanks," he muttered; his voice hoarse. If he didn't sound so broken, I probably would have mentioned how he sexy he sounded, but he did sound broken.

I walked to my bedside table and picked up the water bottle before chucking it to him. I climbed back onto my bed, my back resting against the headboard and my arms wrapping tightly around my knees.

He quickly chugged down the water, before throwing the bottle expertly into the bin.

"Thanks," he said again; his eyes meeting mine for the first time since he had knocked on my window.

I watched quietly as he came to sit on the other end of the bed, his long legs crossed in front of him. He looked so young. His harsh jaw and cheeks had a bit of stubble growth, his shoulders were slouched, his head sagged as he picked at a loose thread on my bed spread, and his hair was too long for him.

That kind of annoyed me.

I stood up again and walked towards my dresser. I heard Zach shift on the bed to face me. My hands darted around the top drawer of the dresser, attempting to find the scissors. When my hand came into contact with the cold metal, I gently lifted them out, securing them in my palm.

I turned around and watched, amused, as Zach's eyes grew wide at the sight of the sharp scissors in my hand.

"Um...Bex, I know I'm dropping in on you and everything, but you can just ask me to leave if you want," he stuttered, his eyes suddenly vulnerable.

I couldn't help it, I laughed. I walked towards him, my head lifted in laughter. Zach scooted back further on to my bed. "Bex?" he asked again, totally freaked.

"Chill out, I'm only going to cut your hair, it's too long," I said, easing him away from the headboard. He looked slightly relieved and sat on the floor in front of my bed. I sat on my bed, and grabbed a chunk of his hair.

He cleared his throat. "You do know what you're doing right?" he asked.

I rolled my eyes as the scissors seared the ends of his hair, shortening it. "Of course. I cut my dad's hair all the time."

"Isn't your dad bald?" he said, turned his head slightly so I could see the raise of his eyebrow.

I laughed again and felt a jolt in my heart when he laughed, too. It had been too long since I'd heard him laugh. I shook my head in amusement and grasped another lock of hair. My scissors slowly cut their way through his hair, neatening it up and making it short, like he usually had it.

After half an hour, I placed down the scissors and announced, "Done." He stood and walked over to my mirror on the dresser.

"Thanks," he said again, admiring his new short locks.

I rolled my eyes as I walked up behind him and pushed him out of the way of my dresser. "Jeez, will you stop sayin 'thanks'? No need to be polite in my presence," I said, placing my scissors back in the drawer.

He, too, rolled his eyes and came to take his position back on my bed as I brushed up his hair and placed in the bin.

I returned back to the bed, facing him. He went back to picking at my bedspread.

"Grant says hey," he said, so quietly I couldn't hear him.

"Excuse me?" I asked, my eyebrows furrowed.

"Grant says hey," he repeated. I smiled and nudged him with my foot. He looked up startled. "He does, really!" I laughed quietly. After a minute or so, Zach looked up at me. "I love her," he whispered, his voice breaking slightly in the middle.

A tear was threatening to fall down his cheek, but he just blinked it away, his eyes still trained on me. I didn't stop the tear that ran down my cheek. "I know," I whispered back.

[SO LET THE MUSIC TAKE AWAY THE PAIN YOU'VE COME TO KNOW SO WELL]

October 1, 2012

"Hey," I smiled, as I found Zach sat on a desk in an empty classroom. Over the weeks, Zach and I had become close. We shared stories of Cammie – well, I shared them, while he listened. He told me about what he'd done the two weeks he'd gone missing, and I told him of the day Cammie and I met.

We were like siblings.

He looked up and smiled, too. "Hey," he replied, budging over so I could squeeze onto the desk.

We sat in silence for a minute or two, both of us comforted by the other's presence. After a while, he broke the silence, "She's back." I nodded and sighed. "You going to go talk to her?" he asked, turning his head slightly to look at me.

I shook my head. "She's with the doctor."

I felt, more than watched, as he shook his head. "Not now, she's not."

I looked at him questioningly. He smiled sheepishly, before pulling out his phone. On the screen, there were 5 dots. Two were close together, two others were close together, and one was on their own. "That same software Liz had installed on that watch back in sophomore year?" he started. I nodded. "I had her put that on my phone at the end of sophomore year. See, there's us-" he said, pointing to one pair of dots. "There's Mace and Liz-" he said again, pointing to the other pair of dots. "And there's Cam."

"You had us bugged," I said, ludicrously, my eyes wide.

He shrugged and put his phone back in his pocket. "I wanted to make sure where you all were."

A frown came on my face. "Wait, so you knew where she was all the time she was gone?"

He shook his head. "The tracking device on her was at the end of one of her locks. When she cut her hair, it went. I knew she was in Rome – that's where I went – but she cut her hair like, two days after I arrived in Rome. When I saw her in the halls before, I put it back into her hair."

I nodded and breathed a huge sigh. I was greatly relieved that at least someone would know where we were from there on out. "Where's mine?"

He didn't seem embarrassed as he said, "A mole on your hip."

"How-" I started to say, before I cut myself off. I lifted up my top slightly and pulled my skirt down a bit to look at the skin coloured mole on my hip. "Never mind, I don't want to know."

He laughed, and edged closer to me, to prevent himself from falling. To the outside world, we looked like a couple as my bare leg pressed against his khaki's. But I knew that he loved Cam.

"I can't go back to the room. She'll be there."

"You're going to have to talk to her eventually," Zach said, shrugging, as he traced patterns on the wood.

I shook my head. "I can't do it."

I was a little shocked when he laughed. "I find that hard to believe. I'm the guy who was with you and your parents all summer remember? I was in Budapest. I saw you in action in Greece. So don't pull that on me. I know exactly what you're capable of."

A small smile slid onto my lips as I said, "Budapest was an exception," before I started laughing along with him.

"What about Macey and Liz?" he asked.

"They think we have to act like nothing's wrong – that we have to pretend so maybe she'll get her memory back or whatever."

"She looks so different," Zach muttered. Those words reminded me of the day at the station when he'd told me he thought she looked beautiful. I closed my eyes and leaned my head on his shoulder, feeling at ease.

"She is different," I reminded him.

He shook his head, as if attempting to clear his mind of the memories. I felt as he jumped off the desk, and offered his hand to help me off. I slid off, careful to make sure my skirt didn't get hitched up.

I led the way out of the door and winced as it slammed shut behind us. His arm was around my shoulders protectively, while mine was around his waist, holding him close.

"Go on, go talk to her. At least attempt to fit her back into your life," he said, pushing me towards the dorm corridor. I rolled my eyes and walked down the hall, shouting bye to him as I went.

We were nothing more that siblings.

Cammie didn't come back to the room that night. I had a strange feeling in the pit of my stomach, that she'd heard that conversation.

[LET IT GO, 'CAUSE...]

December 19, 2015

I couldn't help the tears that escaped my eyes, no doubt leaving a black, crystal trail down my cheeks. "What?" I said. His eyes turned sad as he tried to reach out and touch me, but I pulled away from his reach. "No! Don't you dare touch me," I hissed, inching back towards the wall.

"Bex, please, I'm sorry," he said, his eyes lidded.

My head shook. "No, you're not."

I wasn't myself. I felt like I was having an out of body experience; staring down at a distressed girl backing away from a god.

"I am - I honestly am. But we can't have a long distance relationship," he said. If I didn't know him any better, I would've believed him. But I'd known Grant for four years, and I knew perfectly well when he was lying.

I shook my head again. "It's West Virginia, Grant. The next state."

He stepped forwards, trying to get close to me, yet staying far enough away that he can flee if I lash out. "So...what? You're going to come up to the other side of West Virginia every night to fuck me then go home at midnight, only to do the same thing the next night?"

I frowned at his bluntness. I hadn't thought that our relationship was based on sex.

He continued. "Because I'm definitely not going to do that, especially when I could get some West Virginia girls to give me what I want."

He was getting angry, I knew, yet his voice stayed quiet. My body shook violently as I attempted to hold in sobs. I slid down the wall, only vaguely aware of the brick digging into my bare back. The tight dress I was wearing was picking up ice from the floor as I slid down to crawl up in a ball.

"I'm sorry, Bex, but I'm a guy-"

"I thought you loved me," I whispered and those 5 words cut through the air like a knife, and – as it seems – cut through his angry demeanor. He looked pained, as if the words he was saying suddenly tasted like vinegar.

In the space of two seconds, he was crouched down in front of me, his eyes blazing. "Don't you ever, ever-" he started, before another voice cut him off.

"I think it's time for you to go, Grant," a voice behind Grant said. I looked past him and saw Zach stood against the wall of the other side of the ally. His hands were in his dress pants pockets, his hair dishevelled, his foot propped up against the wall in a stance of nonchalance. "Beat it," he said, tilting his head towards the opening of the ally.

Grant stood up, squaring his shoulders off as he stared Zach down. "I'm not leaving my best friend's wedding."

"You were here for the ceremony," Zach shrugged. "If you want to leave now, I really wouldn't care."

Grant shook his head. "No."

Zach shrugged again, before pushing off the wall and walking around him to me, as I watched from my place on the floor. My sobs had ceased by now as I watched the conversation going on before me.

He smiled at me and lifted me up, wrapping his arm around my waist. "Whatever, man. But I'd prefer it if you didn't break up with my sister in a back ally of my wedding."

"I can do whatever the hell I want," Grant said, his eyes turning angry.

Again, Zach shrugged as his eyebrow rose in question. "That's true. I don't mind, but I can't say the same for Cammie," he said, nodding his head again towards the opening of the ally.

There, in her white dress in the white snow, a look of fury on her face, was Cammie. When she was angry, that was trouble, but she was also pregnant. And I really did not want to be on the receiving end of Cam's hormones, like Grant now.

Grant paled as he took in the sight of the woman, hands on hips, staring him down.

"Leave, Grant," Cammie ordered, her voice strong and clear. He didn't move. Cam started to walk towards him, her beautiful dress leaving a shallow trail in the snow.

She didn't stop until she was stood practically toe-to-toe with him. Her eyes flickered to me, before focusing back on Grant. "If you don't leave, so help me God..." she trailed off. Grant still didn't move; his face somewhere between a grimace and a scowl.

I noticed him before anyone else did. He was stood just behind Cam, his hand reaching out to rest on her back.

Grant's eyes snapped to Joe Solomon and he knew then that he was outnumbered. He glared at me, before pushing past Cammie out into the dark night. Cammie smiled at me, before walking off back into her wedding party, Solomon at her heels.

I turned to Zach. "Thank you," I said, wrapping my arms around his waist and burying my face into his chest.

I feel him chuckle and wrap his arms around my torso. "I'll do anything for my sister."

[YOU CAN'T TURN BACK THE HANDS OF TIME]

June 2, 2016

"Bex?" I heard a panicked voice said as soon as I answered the phone. Almost immediately, I recognised the distressed sound of Zach.

I sat down at my desk on the third floor of Langley. "What's up, Zach?" I asked, a slight frown coming on my face. In the background I could hear faint moans and groans. At first, I thought he had been kidnapped or something.

"It's Cammie," he said. And those two words made me jump up and run to my car.

"I'm on my way," I assured, starting my car.

Fifteen minutes later, I drew up to the Goode house and bolted through the unlocked front door. There were blood stains on the stairs. "Zach?" I yelled.

"Down here!" he shouted back from the living area. I jogged in there, careful of the blood stains. Cammie was on the couch, her body withering and jerking around. Her hand was on her protruding baby bump. Zach was sat on the coffee table; his hands were wrapped around one of hers as he said soothing words to her. "I don't know what to do," he said, his eyes never leaving his heavily-pregnant wife. "It's too early for her to be going into labour, but she says she feels like she's having contractions. Two months, Bex! She's not due for another two months!"

He was stressed. His voice strained. I knew what he was wishing; he wanted to feel the pain instead of Cam; he wanted to do something instead of being sat there useless.

"Have you called an ambulance?" I asked as I move around to Cam's feet. Blood was gushing from in between her legs, ruining the perfect white sofa they had recently bought.

Zach nodded.

Not five minutes later, the door was opening as paramedics rushed in to help Cammie. Zach never once left her side until she was on the ambulance, and even then he kept her in his sights. I drove behind the ambulance, not caring about speeding tickets.

We arrived at the hospital and instead of finding a parking space, I tossed the keys to a nearby doctor having a smoke. "Just do anything with it."

I followed Cammie through the emergency entrance doors, her hand tight around mine, while Zach was brushing her hair. She was still lashing about, but not as violently. She looked as if she was losing consciousness.

"We're going to need to take her in to surgery," a doctor said to Zach, and we stood back and watched as the doctors wheeled my best friend into surgery.

I immediately turned to Zach and wrapped my hands around his shoulders, pulling his head down to rest on my shoulder. I felt his body tremble before I felt my shoulder become wet with tears. Quietly, I led Zach into the waiting room and sat us down, him still crying into my shoulder. I didn't shed a tear. I don't think the world would be able to handle it if we were both crying.

We sat like that for 3 hours, him silently crying into my shoulder, me comforting him, until a doctor walked through the door. "Mr Goode?"

His head snapped up, his tears ceasing immediately. I watched as he walked over to the doctor and started quietly talking with him. I knew it was bad news when Zach looked over at me, his eyes half-lidded.

After a while, Zach came back to me. "She had the baby."

I smiled at that, before he continued.

"She's not gonna survive. The doctor said she has mere minutes to live."

My smile vanished as my hands came up to my mouth. It was too much to take. Zach led me to Cammie's hospital room, and that's what broke me. Cam had never looked so weak in her life, but right now, she was lay there, pale and broken. There were no tubes hooked up to her, except from the heart-rate machine.

I fell down to my knees beside Cam's hand, the tears cascading down my cheeks. She didn't give me a glance, her eyes were on Zach.

"Zach," she croaked. He moved to her other side, caressing her cheek and gripping her hand in his.

"I'm here, Gallagher Girl," he whispered, kissing her temple.

I watched as she smiled at her old nickname. She gestured to a bottle of water on the side, and I held it to her lips as she gulped down the cold water. Once she'd drunk a quarter of the bottle, she pulled away and whispered thanks, before turning back to Zach.

"Zach, baby, she's so beautiful," she said, a little stronger than the first time she tried to speak. "They let me hold her when she came out. She was all gooey," she laughed. I was wrong. Seeing her weak didn't make me break. Seeing her so cheerful, even though she knew she was about to die made me break down.

My eyes landed on Zach. He was smiling at her, despite the tears steadily running down his cheeks. "What do you want to call her, Gallagher Girl?"

He was looking at her so lovingly, and I knew he wasn't trying to hold in his tears, he was letting them flow, trying to tell her how much she meant to him. But I knew that no amount of tears could explain his love for her.

She shook her head. "You choose."

"Cameron-Rebecca Goode," he said, almost immediately. He looked at me as he said it. "Cameron after her mommy, Rebecca after her auntie."

Cammie smiled and looked at me. "It's beautiful."

"Can she be called Cameron Bex Goode? I hate Rebecca," I said, breaking the ice. It felt good to be able to laugh like we were just having coffee, but I knew we weren't. She smiled again, and it reached her eyes. I knew she was thankful that she could spend her last few minutes with her husband and best friend. I would be too.

She turned back to Zach, leaning up to kiss him lightly. "Take care of Bexy, Zach. Who knows what she could get up to if she was loose," she chuckled, winking at him.

He nodded, too overcome with tears to speak.

"Hey," she said, brushing her fingers over his cheeks. "Don't cry, baby. I'm always gonna be here." She pointed at the space of his heart. "I'm always gonna be in here, okay? Don't you ever forget that I'll be with you, right?"

She held his hand again, her fingers interlocking with his. She forced him to look at the wedding bands on his finger. "Even if you move on-"

He interrupted. "I will never move on from you. You are my girl and always will be."

I chuckled slightly as Cammie rolled her eyes. "So stubborn. Let me finish. Even if you move on, I will forever be with you, and you, with I."

Zach nodded and kissed her palm. "I love you, Gallagher Girl. I always will."

"I love you, too," she said, leaning back into her pillow. She turned from Zach to me. "Ah, Bexy, Bexy, Foxy Bexy," she sang.

I laughed, despite the situation. "Don't call me Bexy, Cammy."

Her face broke into a grin. I leaned down and kissed her cheek, my cracked lips lingering on her cold cheek. She smiled at me, and turned back to Zach.

"Send Cam to Gallagher, so she can be just like her mommy and auntie, okay?" she said. I smiled wide, until she started coughing and choking, her body jerking slightly again.

Zach nodded, the tears still falling down his tan cheeks. "I love you, Cammie - so, so much."

She stopped coughing, just long enough for her to say. "Zach, my Blackthorne Boy."

And then she was gone. When I heard the loud buzz of the heart-rate monitor, a little piece of me died, along with my best friend.

[JUST LET IT GO AND YOU'LL BE FINE]

January 15, 2018

"Zach, just get out of here! It's gonna blow! Get out while you can! Leave me!" I yelled over the roar of explosions.

It was 5 years after graduation, and the Director had sent me on a mission with Zachary Goode to Sydney, Australia. We were meant to infiltrate the CoC headquarters there but my cover was blown. I'd been tortured for information.

He showed up a week later claiming he was going to get me out. What he didn't know, was that his mother – the leader of the CoC – knew he would come get me, and set explosions up all near me, so when he came, we would both die.

Now, before you ask - no, we weren't in a relationship of any kind. We weren't friends with benefits, or lovers or anything remotely similar. We were just two people who had lost someone we both love, someone close to our hearts. That was the only thing we had in common. And that's why I was worried for him. We had already lost so much. Cammie meant a lot to both of us, Zach especially. That's why I wanted him far, far away.

The bombs were going off all around us, gradually leading to the one in front of me, the one he was trying to de-fuse, which even I knew was useless.

Zach looked up at me. His hands were shaking, his eyes bloodshot, but even with the bloodshot eyes, the worry was evident. We needed a miracle to get out. No – correction; I needed a miracle to get out of the chains, Zach could get out now.

But he won't.

I tried again, "Zach, just leave me already, there are too many bombs near me to de-fuse them all. Just. LEAVE!" I yelled with as much authority laced in my voice. He looked up at me again, and saw the desperate look in my eyes.

Maybe it was that that made him go.

Maybe it was the fact that he knew I was right – he wouldn't be able to de-fuse the bomb in time.

Maybe it was because, even if we did make it out alive, I wouldn't survive, I was too injured.

Whatever it was, I didn't care, but when I heard in my comms that he had gotten far enough away, I let out a sigh of relief and whispered so low that maybe he couldn't have heard me.

"Thank you."

[WHAT'S DONE IS DONE AND IT'S ALRIGHT]

Unknown Time

"Miss Baxter! Miss Baxter, can you hear me?" I heard an urgent voice say. I nodded very slightly, but only felt pain in my neck. The person must've seen me, however, because I heard a deep breath being blown. I felt it too, on my neck, even though I shouldn't have. My neck was sensitive, for some reason.

It all came flooding back to me then. The mission I was on with Zach that went wrong, then him trying to de-fuse a bomb that was going to kill me.

"Miss Baxter, you are in the hospital, can you open my eyes for me?" the voice asked again.

I opened my eyes, very slowly, only to be blinded by a white light again. This is it, I'm dead. But my thought was proven wrong when I saw doctors and nurses crowded around my bed. I was in pain, that's all I knew. Lots of pain.

I opened my mouth, "How am I alive?" I asked, my voice slightly hoarse, because to be honest, I thought I would have died in the explosion – I should have died. But I didn't.

"You have 79% burns, Miss Baxter –"

But before he could finish, I interrupted him, "Is he okay? Is Zach okay?" If he wasn't okay, I would blame myself, I had to. He had a family; he had a daughter to look after, whilst I had nothing. If he died, and I had survived, and I was given the option to swap his life for mine, I would - without even thinking about it.

I had nothing; he had a daughter. And that baby girl was not going to end up parentless.

The doctor nodded, and left with all the other doctors and nurses, leaving me to think.

How did I survive? The bomb was right in front of me, it should have killed me, and there shouldn't even be a body. Zach didn't have time to de-fuse it either. I should be dead. I looked around the room I was in, finding it very hard because of my burns; my eyes fell upon some flowers, a teddy bear, chocolates and a card. I carefully picked up the card, and read it:

Dear Rebecca,

Hope you are okay. If you are reading this, then get well soon. You have to; my baby girl needs her aunt. I should have been there quicker; you wouldn't be in this state if I had got there sooner. The doctors tell me you will get better, but it'll take a time.

I blame myself. I promised Cammie I would look after you, make sure you were okay after Grant but I can't even do that. How will I be able to look after a child?

Please get better soon, Cameron-Rebecca needs you.

Zach.

P.S. Sorry if there aren't many chocolates left, CR ate some, claiming she didn't want you to get fat.

I couldn't help but crack a smile at CR's antics. I wasn't offended at him using my full name, it was a compliment, but I couldn't help but thinking that I should have died.

I just lay there, for the next 3 months, staring at the same place on the wall, thinking, not moving, not sleeping, and not eating. Just thinking about my life, how after one death, everything goes downhill. But I will be there for my niece and only brother left.

I have to be.

[YOU CAN'T TURN BACK THE HANDS OF TIME]

April 21, 2028

He looked different, as in good different. It had been ten years since I had last seen Zachary Goode. Ten years since the mission. Ten years since my life changed drastically.

I hadn't realized I was staring at him, until he caught my eye. He didn't smirk; he didn't tease; he didn't do anything - just held my gaze. His eyes held a story, as broad as daylight. That wasn't Zach. He was always guarded, secretive, silent, deadly.

He'd changed.

Bodies swayed all around us, listening to the steady music of Beethoven but my eyes never wondered from Zach's. Dresses of all colours disappeared from my vision; tuxedo's vanished from my eyes, but all I saw was Zach. It seemed as if we were the only people in the world. It seemed as if time stopped as he walked towards me.

The guests came and went, the waiters passed by, the music played, but none of that mattered as he approached me. His gaze never once moved from mine, while I took in everything from his black dress shoes, black dress pants, white button-up shirt, black tuxedo jacket and the dark red tie.

Things have changed; I'd grown taller, stronger, wiser, braver. I was no longer the fearless Bex Baxter who could manipulate herself into anyone's heart. I was Rebecca Baxter, a Gallagher Girl, retired agent for MI6, broken.

Ten years ago, not only did he change, but I changed too. We were both unrecognisable.

As he came closer, I could faintly smell his musky scent. The one that sent many girls crazy - not me though, we had too much of a history for that. When he was in front of me, I became slightly self-conscious of his presence, the black dress I wore felt like baggy clothes on me.

I didn't feel the same.

He came to stand in front of me, him being the only thing I could physically see. I watched his eyes as they roamed my neck and arms and chest. I didn't cover up, like I would've done ten years ago. His hand slowly came out and brushed over the deformed skin along my neck, chest and arms; his feather-light touch careful on the scarred skin. His eyes followed the path of his fingers.

The back of his fingers grazed my neck, my collarbone and shoulders, my arms, my back, everywhere.

I knew what he was thinking. He was thinking it was his entire fault. I tried to tell him: don't. Don't think about it; but my mouth wouldn't form the words.

I was too caught up in the tingles on my skin that I didn't pay attention to anything else.

That's why I wasn't prepared when his voice broke through my thoughts, "Hi Rebecca." He sounded so broken. I knew that he missed his wife, his best friends. They were everything he had. I knew how he felt because I was in the same position. Cammie was gone, but as I looked down at the girl by Zach's side, I knew that she would forever live on in her.

Zach whispered something in CR's ear and I watched as she walked off, headed for the buffet table. My eyes studied the teenager. Cam's hair, her posture, her face. But there was also some Zach; his air of nonchalance, his height, his eyes.

Just looking at her brought tears to my eyes. The product of Gallagher and Blackthorne.

My eyes snapped to Zach. He was still staring at my scars. His hand reached out again but I batted it away. "Don't," I spoke, my voice stronger than I had expected. It wasn't harsh. His hand fell back down, but his eyes still didn't look at my face. "Look at me," I said.

He did.

And I hadn't expected that.

I expected him to smirk, but still look at my scars. I expected him to raise an eyebrow and walk off. The command was so weak, so unBexlike that I almost expected him to make fun, to laugh.

He didn't.

I was distracted. My eyes stared into his. I paid no attention to the laughing and chatting going on around us, and I imagined people staring at the couple standing too apart to be romantically-involved, yet too close to be anything other than that. I hated feeling like the centre of attention.

But right now I was.

I was Zach's centre of attention.

I couldn't concentrate on the dancing couples, or the soft melody of the band, all I was concentrating on was the boy in front of me.

And that was what scared me the most.

[THE HANDS OF TIME]