-1-

Major Prescott, whom the therapists say I have to start  referring to as Dad,  makes sure I don’t have to see Maxwell for a few days.

Instead I stay in the house and get visits from  an endless train of psychologists and child behavioral specialists. The incredibly famous kind who wrote bestsellers and  had multiple specials on media streams.

They put me on medication to help me sleep and eat better but all it does is mostly make me sleepy, constipated and nauseous.

I am vague with the therapists. I say I don’t really know the person who took me. I tell them we were always moving and I couldn’t say exactly where we were living at any point. I said things weren’t like they were here and they all assumed I meant I escaped a neo-luddite commune, which was fine with me.

I wish I could  tell the therapist about my real problems; how much I miss living on  the Star, what Maxwell did to me in his office and how much I want to go back to being  just Skylark Gray. That this Phoenix Maxwell  life wasn’t at all what I planned.

I’d been walking around the Star on my own since I was six and I felt suffocated by my Dad’s near constant attention  and all the staff and specialists always checking on me.  

After over two weeks in the house, my Dad and I get in to his car and he drives us to  the beach house so I can meet my sister Gemma and they can go public with my return. My patch will be re-activated and Phoenix Maxwell will be back online. I'll be in every database and network, able to be tracked like everyone else in Ft. Perch.

The beach house is glass and boxy,  built into a cliff on the edge of the white sand beach. It’s scenic and beautiful but all I can feel is dread at seeing Maxwell again.

My Dad sends a message on his syndicate before opening the front door of the beach house. We walk into an empty living area and go up the floating staircase, towards the sounds of laughter. At the sounds of our feet on the stairs the chatter upstairs quiets.

The upstairs is a massive open concept kitchen and another living room, decorated  like a modern seaside resort. My parents personal assistants,  confidential advisors and communications staff mill around the room--Carrington included.

Sitting at  the kitchen bar  is Gemma Maxwell and Maxwell, who I’m supposed to refer to as my father but can’t quite do.

Gemma looks at me with wide eyes, drops the cracker she is about to put in her mouth and dusts her fingers.

My Dad opens his arms to her and Gemma bounds to him with a squeal. She leaps into an effortless hug.

While they are hugging, Maxwell  approaches me and puts a gentle hand on my back. I shirk away on instinct which makes him frown.

“There’s my college girl. Look at you !” My dad laughs and eases Gemma out of the hug. She looks over at me and puts a piece of her wavy brown hair nervously behind her ear.

“Do you remember me ?,” she asks me softly with a big smile.

“Um…No, not really,” I admit.

She smiles anyway and hugs me.

“This is so creepy! He looks just like you, Daddy. Just like how I always imagined. This moment needs a family champagne toast,” she says, picking up an open bottle of champagne out of a bucket of ice .

“Very funny. I said no alcohol for you.” Maxwell says, taking the bottle from her and pouring two glasses, handing one to my Dad, who doesn’t take it.

“Ugh, the drinking age outside Ft. Perch is like, nonexistent,” she whines. “We should be celebrating…It’s not like I’m going to get drunk and like dance on the tables or something. Oh, that reminds me, Daddy, this girl in my dorm told me that --”

“Gemma, please.” Maxwell says sternly.

“Okay, I know, I know. Oh, but before I forget I’m taking this chemistry class and my professor said--”

“Not now, darling, we have work to do.” Maxwell says turning to my dad. “Lansing you should know that Carrington and I re-worked the statement with your communication director this morning. Do you want a look over it ?”

“Of course I do,” my dad snaps. “It should have gone through me before it went to my staff. You know how to contact me.”

“Don’t get an attitude with me,” Maxwell warns.

“Gemma, why don’t you show your brother the house. I’ll call when it’s time to get ready for the announcement,” My dad suggests.

“Brother…that’s going to be so hard to get used to,” she says and squeezes me. “Do you want to see the beach ?”

I nod.

-2- 

She leads me through the maze of the house, talking the entire time, until we get to a backdoor that puts us literally steps from the water.

Gemma rolls up her pants and steps in until the water is ankle deep.

“Look at these seashells ! These are always my favorite part about coming here, there are so many shells in here ! You have to see this--I oh, do you swim ?,” she asks.

I nod and she claps.

“Good! I didn't want to be rude. Listen, I’m only here for the day but when I’m home on summer break we are totally going swimming,” she smiles.

Aunt Isla was right, the beaches in Fort Perch are nothing like the ones on base camp. The water is clear aquamarine and sand is pure white, paired with the pinkish orange sunrise it looks like a drawing it’s so beautiful.

“So, um…Have you been to the beach ?,” she asks, her tone softer.  “I mean…did they let you go to a beach wherever you were ?”

I realize suddenly she might be working with Maxwell and trying to get answers. I shut down and she must sense it because she comes out of the water and leads me up a set of outdoor stairs on the side of the house that lead to a rooftop patio.

“ I can’t imagine what you’re going through or what you’ve been through but we’re so happy you’re back…we used to talk about you all the time.” she says. “Are you happy you’re back ?”

“It’s different than I thought.” 

“Because of the separation ? Yeah, it’s annoying but you get used to it…I know Dad can get intense sometimes. He’s super strict and all but he was in the RLA for a long time…I think he’s seen some shit. But he loves us. All of us. Just be mindful of his temper.”

I turn to her, glad to see I wasn’t the only one who thought Maxwell intimidating. I wondered if he’d ever done anything like what he’d done to me in his office to her.

She was exactly as she was on interviews; chatty, inquisitive and giggly. She talks to me for an hour before we are called back into the house for the public announcement.

“It’s going to be fun,” she says as we go back into the living room where our fathers' staff are now moving more frantically. The space is  filled with lights, cameras and racks of clothes. “They even let you keep the clothes.”

-3-

The sleek leather couch in the living room has been replaced with a more modest blue fabric version and Carrington gives me two outfits to try on for her. She settles on a rose colored t-shirt and white hoodie and then directs a woman to put makeup on me and then messes with my hair.

My dad is sitting on the couch casually wearing a United Armed Forces polo shirt under a deep red knit cardigan and Gemma has on a long filmy dress that billows out when she spins—which she keeps doing around the room.

“Look how pretty!,” she twirls. “I feel like a ballerina princess, I love it--”

“Gemma, enough. Sit down,” Maxwell snaps, walking out of a bedroom in a fitted suit with his tie undone “You’re 19-years-old, act like it. How many times do I have to fucking tell you ?”

She exchanged a look with me as if to say “see what I mean” and then goes to sit next to our Dad.

“Oh, can I tie your tie ? Please, I just learned how,” she asks Maxwell, getting on her knees on the couch.

This makes my dad turn around to look at Maxwell. 

“Why are you wearing a suit ?,” My dad asks, accusatory. “The interviews are supposed look at home and casual. That is what we agreed to.”

The noise in the room goes down a level, the staff pretending like they weren’t trying to listen in on the fight.

“Lansing, we are not about to argue about clothes--”

“You always do this, you always have to look more important than me--”

“Lansing, please. Get a fucking grip--”

“Max--”

“Lansing,” Carrington interrupts. “Ken is older, it’s just a better look for him--”

“The statement has been released, sir,” a man in a UAF uniform, one of my dad’s assistant I think, calls out. “We go live for the first follow up interview in 5.”

“Mess the place up a little, make it look lived in and get rid of the alcohol,” Maxwell barks and someone puts some dishes on the counter and gets rid of the champagne bucket.

“Come sit, Phoenix,” my dad calls, gesturing for me to come to the couch.

I sit between him and Gemma but Maxwell makes Gemma move so I am between both of of my fathers.

“Gemma, no more than two sentence answers,” Maxwell orders and then turns his glare to me. “You don’t speak unless it’s yes ma’am or no ma’am.”

Gemma nods and then glances over at my dad.

“Daddy. Ring,” Gemma sing songs quietly, wiggling her finger and my dad takes it from his pocket and slips it on.

“We’re patching in 30 seconds, sir.” one of the others assistants calls.

“My tie, love,” Maxwell say and my Dad reaches over me to tie Maxwell’s tie. He jerks the ends of fabric roughly and it only makes Maxwell laugh.

A beep sounds from one of the cameras a few seconds before he finishes tying and they kiss.

“How many of these god damn interviews are we doing ?,” I hear my dad whispers softly into Maxwell’s ear.

“Twelve,” Maxwell smiles, kissing his ear.

“I thought we agreed on less than 5,” My Dad says through a small laugh and another small kiss.

“It’s good to see that even though you are no longer empty nesters the romance is still alive in the Maxwell-Prescott household,” a new voice says.

The voice is coming from a projection hovering a few feet in front of us, where an International News Network reporter is watching us and smiling at my parents fake display of affection.

They both turn on instantly, their postures and tones changing into the one I’d seen on so many interviews. Only now I can see where they were slightly challenging each other and when Gemma talks too much I feel Maxwell reach over and pinch her side.

We sit on the couch for five hours while my dads give brief interviews to countless reporters across the globe  confirming that yes, I was back, yes, I was unhurt, no, I hadn’t known who I was and yes, I was adjusting perfectly.

The final interview is the only in person interview. It’s with Colleen Atwater, I recognize her because  she had a nightly series where she interviewed famous people and world leaders—I’d watched it all the time on the satellite when I was going to bed.

She’s an actual celebrity but when she walks over to greet us she tells me that it’s her honor to meet me.

With Colleen Atwater in the actual room I can feel Maxwell’s mood shifting. He goes to adjust my hair. I flinch on instinct. He brings me close, whispering into my ear.

“Don’t you fucking ruin this for me,” he warns quietly. “Now smile,”

I do and he laughs at me like we just shared a joke. Colleen Atwater smiles at this and it chilled me how good they were at manipulating people.

“What is that on your ear ?,” Colleen asks, looking at the bandage from where the anthropologist  had ripped off my tattoo. They'd tried to cover it with makeup.

“We don’t know. There is an ugly gash there,” Maxwell says. “He had it when he returned. It’s  a sensitive topic, please don’t ask about it in the live interview.”

“Of course, sir.” she says brightly. “I am happy to stick to the script we agreed too.”

“Last one, son,” Lansing says as the cameras turn back on and Colleen Atwater gets into place.

They are barely into the first five minutes of the interview when my stomach starts churning. I don’t know what’s causing it all of a sudden and I try to catch the eye of one of their many staff members watching the interview but they are all staring at Maxwell as he talks about all the con artists who’d come through with boys claiming to be me.

I try to discreetly tap my dad’s back and he slowly looks over at me and bends his head.

“I think I’m going to be sick,” I whisper in his ear.

“Me too, this will be over soon,” My Dad grins, putting a hand on my thigh.

“I think I must be boring them.  It’s rude to whisper during an interview.” Maxwell says in a joking tone but I know he's pissed.

Both of my fathers play it off as a joke, putting Colleen Atwater at ease but it doesn’t help me.

I try not to move too much, to ignore the watery sensation in my mouth and the unease  bubbling up inside me.

Maxwell is talking about what their future plans for my readjustment and schooling when I start puking.  I try to swallow it but it's too much and I don’t have time to catch myself as I pitch forward and projectile vomit all over Maxwell's lap and most of the couch.

“Shit, is that blood! Oh my god !,” Gemma screeches loudly, jumping over the back of the couch, screaming that it got on her.

It wasn’t blood; I still had trouble with the food in Ft. Perch and had been living on a diet of prune and cranberry juice so it just looked like clotted blood.

Maxwell and my Dad react in the same way as Gemma, cursing loudly and backing away from me but Gemma just keeps screaming and pointing.

“Gemma, shut up and calm the hell down!,” Maxwell barks and then turns to me. “Look what you did to my suit. What the fuck is wrong with you ?”

I want to apologize but no words are coming out. Instead more  juice comes up.

I run out of the room, knocking over a camera to get to the open bedroom door. I race to the en suite bathroom and  kneel in front of the toilet, spilling everything that was in my stomach.

When I’m sure my stomach is empty I rinse my mouth and wash my face as a knock sounds on the closed bedroom door.

“Are you okay ?,” Maxwell’s voice calls gently through the bedroom door.

I stiffen as he opens the bedroom door and steps into the bedroom. He’s wearing a new suit and in his hand he has a hanger with a change of clothes for me. It’s the  same outfit I’m wearingin a different color.

“I’m sorry I--”

He shuts the bedroom door behind him.

“You little asshole,” he sneers at me. “You will not ruin this for me. If you really you want to be my son, to prove you aren’t doing Haley’s biding then you better start acting like it--”

“I--”

“Don’t ever interrupt me,” he growls,  his eyes dancing. “You had one instruction, which was to sit there and be fucking quiet and you couldn’t follow that. Lansing and his ridiculous shrinks think you’re a little baby  but you’re not are you ? Are you ?”

“Um, no...sir. But I’m s-”

“Shut up,” he says. “I know you were with Haley, that lying bastard. I can tell even if you won’t fucking admit it. You’re an insolent little motherfucker who thinks everything is about you just like Haley was. But you are not his son, you are my son and if you want to be apart of this family I’m going to correct that part of you that makes you think what you want matters.”

I step back as he steps forward, grabbing my arm and  twisting it behind my back. 

Fuck. I don’t know what’s  happening or about to happen so I get aggressive. I pull away.  I scream for help.

“Don’t fucking fight me or I will really hurt you.” he orders, removing his belt.

My body stills when the first strike comes, it’s searing and sharp.

I didn’t understand what was happening. I didn’t understand any of this.

My whole life I’d basically been a good kid,.I always listened and did what I was told by authority figures. I’d never got in trouble or been disciplined by anyone and now Maxwell—my father of a few days--was beating me because I wasn’t what he wanted me to be.

 My guardian had been right, having parents sucked. 

I was so stupid.

I completely disassociate. I go somewhere else. Pretend I’m at base camp sleeping in my tent under The Star and looking up at the stars. I  block out the sound of the belt, the pain and Maxwell’s  punctuated speech about me being a liar and disobedient and not proving worthy of his or Lansing’s or Gemma’s love.

When he lets me up my I’m shaking and my eyes drip with so many tears I can’t see anything. He orders me to wash my face with a cool cloth and change into the new clothes.

“Can I count on you to behave ?,” Maxwell asks when I’m dressed and most of the heat is gone from my face.

I nod as he kisses the top of my head, puts his arm around my shoulder and we head for the door together.

“And if you don’t show how excited you are for me when you’re supposed to we’ll come back in here and do this again,” he warns as he opens the bedroom door.

I panic.

I hadn’t been instructed that there was a specific time when I was supposed to act excited about something. I didn’t know how to act excited.

My dad is standing a few feet from the bedroom door and the moment we come out  he pulls me away from Maxwell’s grip. I feel like all of their staff members are staring at me, like they know he just beat the shit out of him.

 “What did you do to him ?,”  my dad whispers. “If you--”

“What have I told you about giving me parenting advice, sweetheart ?,” Maxwell hisses.

“Max, you have to tell me what you did--”

“Nothing,” Maxwell says. “The boy is sick so let’s finish Colleen’s interview--”

“Why don’t we end the interview--”

“Nonsense."

They’d replaced the couch with a clean couch from another room and reset all the cameras.

“I apologize for that, Ms. Atwater,” Maxwell says to Colleen as he sits down. “Can I ask you to delete those last few minutes?,”

“We already did, we wouldn’t put footage like that  of a minor out there.”

“I was referring to that small moment where I lost my temper, that’s not me…but, yes delete that other footage too.”

My dad moves me so I’m sitting as far from Maxwell as possible.  It hurts to sit but I don’t want to have to explain what happened in the bedroom so I smile through the discomfort.

“Last question, Mr. Maxwell,” Colleen finally says. “You’ve led this new country brilliantly  as senator, judge and of course attorney general.  I’ve heard you had an interesting conversation with the Federation Policy Commission at Stanford. Would you like to elaborate ?”

“Yes, well…I should first say this special announcement will be a surprise to my family as well,” Maxwell smiles. ”You see because I never made it past inauguration and never took on any of the duties and responsibilities as president, according to Federation policy, my tenure doesn’t count and I am legally eligible to run again. Which, now that my family is complete, I plan to do.”

Maxwell’s staff start clapping as if on cue. Carrington has the biggest smile on her face. Gemma’s eyes go wide and she puts her hand over her mouth and my dad looks shocked but plays along like he knew this was going to happen.

Figuring this was the moment he was talking about, I act excited.

----

A/N

I know I said I wasn't going to break anymore cuties, but I promise this is the last one...I mean I think.