Strings of Fate

158- Panic and passing out | should have known better than to hope | would actually get srest. | don’t think | even remember anymore what it’s like to just have a regular dream. Instead I'm stuck in these nightmarish visions of Kiara. The only thing that makes them even remotely bearable is my hope that they will provide skind of useful information which | can use to find and rescue her. The moment | see the look of dread on Kiara’s face, | know that tonight is going to be another bad night. There is nothing I can do to help her right now other than sit through it with her.

Maybe if | focus hard enough she will feel it somehow, the sway | can feel her. | just wish | could tell her that she isn’t alone, that there are people looking for her. Tonight is one of the worst nights, because rather than screaming, crying or fighting, Kiara looks like she is begs. The way she drops to her knees and grabs out, it looks like she is tugging on someone’s hand or clothes. Even worse is when she falls backwards as if she’s been pushed out of the way. She looks pale and sickly as she literally crawls. She reaches out like she did the night of the last murder and | feel as sick as she looks. Once again, she looks away, then drops her hand. Unlike last time, she immediately turns to the side and throws up, although it appears to be mostly bile. She definitely hasn't been eating. enough. Not that | imagine she wants to eat. Someone just died. | know it. | need to know what Kiara’s magic is more than ever, because they're making her do something before the people die and | need to know what it is. Suddenly without warning, Kiara slumps to the side and passes out. There must be something different about being unconscious to being asleep, because unlike when she’s asleep, my vision comes to an immediate stop.

| wake with a jolt and sit up in bed so fast that | elbow Bellamy in the face.

“Ow, what the hell?” He grumbles, rubbing at his chin where | hit it. | am gasping for air, | feel like my ch*st is being crushed in a vice and my heart is beating so fast that I'm afraid it's going to burst. Bellamy immediately sits up and pullsinto his lap.

“Shhh, it’s okay, you're okay. | need you to breathe forsweetheart. Can you do that for me? Just take one deep breath in. Slowly, just breathe in.” Honestly | don’t think it really matters what Bellamy is saying, It's the soothing tone of his voice that is helpingcalm down. Lying against his ch*st like this, | can hear his heartbeat and despite his calm voice, it's racing nearly as fast as mine. | must be scaring him. | need to pull myself together. | force myself to listen to his directions and | take a strangled breath in.

“Good girl, now breathe out.” He praisesand if | weren't feeling so awful | would have to 1/3 158- Panic and passing out roll my eyes. But he’s being sweet so | guess I'll let him get away with talking tolike at child this once. | release my breath and let Bellamy coachthrough a few more before | start to breathe normally again, if a little fast. My heart starts to slow and as my heart rate drops to a more normal pattern, so does Bellamy’s. | find myself sitting in Bellamy’s lap, clutching the front of his shirt so tight that my knuckles have turned white.

“Sorry | hit you.” | whisper, my voice weak. Bellamy just runs a hand up my back soothingly.

“Never mind that. What happened? Was it another dream?” He asks. Following my lead, his voice is also barely more than a whisper. | nod and hide my face in his chest, taking what comfort I can.

“Yes. It was bad. I'm pretty sure... | think there was another murder.” | confess. | can feel Bellamy tense up for a second, then he forces himself to relax as he continues trying to calm down.

“Tellwhat you saw.” He says it as an order, but | know it isn’t really. Either way I tell him everything. Bellamy stretches and manages to grab his phone from the bedside table. He makes a quick call, I'm not sure who to, and basically tells them to be on the lookout for another murder and to put out an alert for everyone to ch*ck on their loved ones. At very least he can do his best to account for all the Shifters. Call made, he drops the phone back on the bed and turns his attention back to me.

“Sweetheart, what can | do?” He asks, he sounds almost desperate. | shrug hopelessly.

“What do you usually do when you're upset?” he demands.

“I don’t know. Work, keep busy. When there’s no work | sometimes watch old cartoons.” | tell him, thinking of my blanket fort movie night with Harry. Bellamy nods determinedly.

“I can make that happen.” He briefly movesoff his lap so that he can grab my laptop and bring it to the bed.

He immediately dragsback into his lap and flips it open. It only takes him a couple minutes to have old cartoons playing. | have no idea what tit is, but | don’t want to think about it right now anyway. | just curl up in Bellamy’s lap while we watch cartoons in the dark.

| wake up much slower than my panicked awakening last night. There is an alarm going off, 2/3 158- Panic and passing out it’s obnoxious but | can’t bring myself to care enough to turn it off. Bellamy eventually moves. to silence the awful sound. My whole b*dy feels worn out, like I did a huge work out or spent way too much tin the sun.

Bellamy looks groggy and there are shadows underneath his eyes that I'm sure are a matching set with the ones I must have.

“Are you okay? | can take care of the Shifters coming for mediation myself.” he offers. It is tempting, REALLY tempting. But | suspect that if | stay in bed now, I'm just going to get myself all worked up again. | shake my head to refuse his offer.

“I would rather stay with you.” Bellamy givesa half smile and offers to letshower first. | agree, partially because my hair takes forever to dry and partially because | feel really gross. When | was having my panic attack last night, | must have been sweating. Gross, poor Bellamy had to deal with it. Not that he complained, he never really complains which somehow makesfeel better and worse at the stime. Bellamy showers while | get.

dressed and we both head downstairs. Bellamy insists oneating breakfast although I don’t have much of an appetite. Still, | manage to force down a couple pieces of toast to make him happy. We are just tidying up the last of the dishes when a knock on the door lets us know that the Shifters have arrived.

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