ix

You peel open your eyes, moaning and holding your head. "Hello? you call. You are in a hospital, laying on a blow up mattress resting on a steel frame. There's a steady beeping of a monitor near your bed, and you see The Five resting on visitor chairs off to the side. You look down at your arm, and squeal, flinching. There is a needle in your veins, an IV drip. Your eyes are back to normal, along with everything else. Bandages are wrapped around your hand, but you can tell that it took a beating during the incident. The pain throbs through your body, worse than ever before. You squeeze your eyes shut, a tear rolling down your face as you grit through the hurt.

"You're awake," Let says, stirring and grinning at you. She rushed over your side, throwing her body over you and holding tightly. "We were so worried."

Everyone else wakes as well, running to your bed. "We thought you were a goner for sure, sweetheart," Mizzy says. Your eyes widen at the thought.

"We had to take you to a hospital," Cole said. "Gave them your fake name and said you were a cousin of Jaxx's, because you look the most like him." Jaxx scoffs, but as you look over him, you know it's true. The same high cheekbones and sharp chin. "The doctors didn't know s**t, anyways, but Mizzy insisted."

"Guys, we should get out of here before the police come to start questioning," Jaxx says. You nod, and start to rip out the IV, even if it makes you uncomfortable. Needles are so disturbing. Let makes a disguisted face, and Tio pats your back soothingly.

"Come on, let's ditch this joint," Jaxx says.

Too late.

A nurse walks in, pushing a cart to take your blood pressure. Three officers follow her. "Sit down, all of you," one of them orders in a gruff voice. "What are your names?"

"Faith Hefflee," Let says.

"James Olwood," Jaxx says.

"Nathan Venier," Tio says.

"Zoe Clenson," Mizzy says.

"Max Grant," Cole says.

They all produce ID cards with the same names, and you realize that you are not the only one with a fake identity at the ready. They probably have been building up their alter egos for months. Just in case.

"If this is about the incident at the theatre," Tio says, holding his hands up. "It was a misunderstanding that got blown up. Lucy here was operating a spotlight in a sharp corner, got claustrophobic, got a full on panic attack, fainted, and hit her head on the aformentioned spotlight, causing the concussion she obtained.” Out of all of them, Tio was the best liar. The officers didn't move one inch, glaring at them.

"We're not here about some silly concussion." They turn to you. "We are here to arrest Lucy Cartwright for suspicion of hacking into a national bank website."

END PART I

Intermission the First

Jaxx was not his name when he was sixteen and ruthless. In fact, he did not think of the name Jaxx until his eighteenth birthday party, which he spent in a jail cell.

No, Jaxx was not his name. He's not really sure if he wants to tell you, the reader, not the Thief, his name, so let's just pretend that his name actually is Jaxx. Alright?

First of all, you are welcome to skip this intermission. I recently left it off on a cliffhanger, which was not particularly nice of me to do, and if you are feeling particularly bitter about it, that's a shame. Skip it. Go ahead. I'll just keep talking of Jaxx.

He is the typical rebellious teenager, a motorcycle with too much exhaust fumes, black hair covering one eye, and snark filled wit. Most likely, he has a terrible, angst filled past, that fuels his anger for the world. He also writes, if you can believe it. How awful, a writer only leads to depressing tales of woe.

This isn't about the hackneyed embodiment of the tortured soul. This particular intermission, however brief it is, is to talk about her.

The "her" is dead. Don't dwell on it, Jaxx certainly didn't. It was his mother, a truly vile woman who no one liked in the least. He went to the funeral because his sister wanted some closure, but as soon as it was over, he drove his motorcycle to the ocean, which was a good fifty miles away, which he didn't care about. The roars of the engine blocked out any memories that might have wanted to poke in that tumbling brain of his.

"Just keep moving," he told himself, gritting his teeth. Knuckles turning white from his grip on the handles, he was determined not to get washed over with confusion. When he did make it to those sandy beaches, they were empty. Not many wanted to feel the lush warmth on their skin, wind flowing through their hair, in late November when the high, as proclaimed in the newspaper, was a sweltering twenty-five degrees. Fahrenheit. The bitter cold gnawed on his fingertips, and he shivered in his thin jacket. "This is fun," he deadpanned, as one does.

Not sure what to do now, he sat on the shore, taking off his shoes and letting the shivering water lap up his ankles. He lay on his back, staring up at the sunset and thinking of absolutely nothing.

"Brave one, are you?" a liquid voice asked. She has her hair in two braids, hanging down past her shoulders, and arms crossed in a rude stance. Towering over you in your position, she juts out her tongue. "Or are you just trying to be silly?"

A seven year old was asking him a question.

"Neither," he grunted. "Just here for the quiet," he further explained, much emphasis on the last word. The girl, unfazed, plopped down next to him.

"Are you sad?" she asked.

"No," he said.

"Are you angry?"

"Always?"

"Why?"

"Dunno."

Jaxx at sixteen was still naive, and it wasn't until much later he got his scathing wit. "What do you want from me?" he inquires. He really wants the girl to leave, so he can be alone with his torturous soul retching thoughts.

"Someone to play with me," the girl said, picking at a loose clasp on her black shoes. Jaxx rolled his eyes, rubbing his arms for warmth.

"Shouldn't you be at home or somethin'? You know, coloring pictures or eating dirt. Not sitting around a freezing beach with no adult supervision." Jaxx didn't really care for the child's safety, he just wanted to be left alone.

"Aren't you an adult?" she asked, taking a stick sticking out of the mud and drawing with it in the sand.

"Nope."

"Why not?"

"Too young."

"Do you want to be an adult?"'

He breathed out, annoyed by the pesky little girl and wanting her to shoo. "Yeah, that means I won't have to obey the rules enforced upon me by the conforming adults."

"You're annoying," the girl stated. Jaxx smirked, watching the girl doodle her sand pictures. "Do you ever smile?"

"Sometimes, when I'm happy."

"When are you happy?"

"When expectations aren't too high."

"What are expectations?" she didn't look at him, she instead drew a large sun about the size of herself.

Jaxx lightly punched her in the arm, in which in response she stuck her tongue out at him. "Expectations are what people want us to be," he answered.

“What do people want you to be?” she asks in a small voice.

Jaxx ponders the question, biting his thumbnail. “Stuck in a small office cage, typing away for the office drones while injecting coffee into my veins, as long as I make a decent wage and have about two point five children.”

The girl doesn't even attempt to figure out what he's saying. "What do you want to be?"

"Free." His history was unimportant to the girl, she was just happy to have a companion for the hour.

"Why?"

"For the heck of it. No rules, no adults, nothing."

"Well," the little girl started, drawing a frowny face on the sun. "It isn't that good, being free. I would rather be with fun adult people than be alone." She adds the finishing touches on her masterpiece, smiling. She finally looks up at you. "Wanna play with me?"

That was the day that Jaxx decided to stop with the stereotypes, put on his shoes, and build a sandcastle with a small child.

END INTERMISSION THE FIRST

PART II

Have you ever been in a situation where everyone is staring at each other, unsure how to move next, and knowing someone, anyone, is going to be forced to make a move next, but it sure as hell isn't going to be you?

You haven't. This is your first time. The only thought going through your mind is, I am fucked. Because you are. You've been caught, there is literally no way to escape.

“No you're not, because she's coming with us,” Jaxx says, pulling out a gun and holding against your head.

Or, there is that.

Author's Note

I had originally planned to have five intermissions, one for each of Thief's "parents" that has a brief look in their pasts, but I ran out of time and skipped a lot of what I wanted to do.