Losing Hope | {BOOK 4}

102| Inside Emilie's Head

Once everyone had left, I turned to Lady Bevell.

"Okay, you got inside my mom's head once before. What about me? You get me in?"

"You? I..." she sighed. "Perhaps. But I need my rig."

"Where is it?"

"At the base."

I looked at her skeptically.

"But I suppose with the right materials, I could cobble something together."

I chuckled at that.

⁘

I handcuffed my mom to a chair in the war room of the Bunker.

"Alright, where's the stuff you need?" I asked Bevell.

"Should be in storage, next to the dungeon."

She moved to walk away, but I grabbed her arm.

"Ah. Think I'm letting you out of my sight?"

"Need I remind you that my organization left me to die? At this point, I'm not on anyone's side but my own. So I help you try to save your mother, and when the dust clears..."

"What? I let you go?"

"I'd like to see my son again," she replied. "I'm not asking for a pass. I'm asking for a head start."

She held out her cuffed hands, and I stared at her for a moment before sighing and unlocking them. Several minutes later, I was in a seat across from my mom while the Brit attached electrodes to both of our foreheads.

"These electrodes sync your Delta waves with Emilie's forming a psychic link. But to enter her psyche will take a certain measure of concentration and skill," she moved to adjust some knobs on a machine. "And as there's no time to teach you how to reach the necessary therapeutic dream state, I'm banking on this."

Bevell held up a large syringe, injecting it into my mother's neck.

"Hypnotic agents laced with a potent sedative."

"Ah," my mom hummed.

"It's enough to knock an elephant on its trunk."

My mom passed out and Lady Bevell turned back to the table for the second syringe. When she did, I attached the side of the handcuff that was dangling from her wrist to the table leg.

"Really?" she scoffed, glaring at me.

"Little insurance. You understand."

"This will hurt. You understand."

She injected the second dose of the sedative into my neck and I quickly passed out. When I opened my eyes, I was sitting in a recliner in a living room. Standing up, I realized my knee was uninjured and I swung it a few times to test it out. Looking around, I realized I was in the apartment over my father's shop.

"Whoa," I breathed, turning in a slow circle.

"Ellie, lunch is ready," my mom's voice called.

I moved toward the sound of her voice at the same time that a young version of me, age four, ran into the kitchen. She sat down at the table, picking up and eating a sandwich that had the crust cut off. My mom walked over, stroking my hair.

"Mom," I addressed her. "We gotta get out of here, okay? You need to come with me. Mom? Mom."

She continued to move about the kitchen, not appearing to be able to hear me at all.

"Mom!" I cried out, walking over to stand next to her at the sink. "Look, I know they messed with your head, okay? I know it feels better in here. It feels safer. But I-I need you to hear me."

Mom turned to face young me at the table.

"I was thinking we should go to the park later when Daddy gets done downstairs. Sound good?"

"Mom, look at me," I begged, reaching out to grab her arm.

She hesitated in my grasp before pulling away from me and walking over to the oven. I stared down at my hand for a moment, then stared at her in shock.

"You're choosing this," I breathed.

"Your favorite," my mom said in a sing-song, pulling an apple pie from the oven.

"Yes!" young me grinned.

"After you eat," my mom knelt next to the young me. "I only want good things for you, Ellie girl. I'll never let anything bad happen to you."

"I hate you," I said, tears pricking at my eyes as I stared at my mom and young me. "You lied to me. I was a kid."

As my mom moved back to the sink, it seemed like she was hearing me, but ignoring what I said.

"You promised you'd keep me safe. But it was all a lie. Because I'll tell you something. On June 10, 1985 you interrupted me and Dad while we were playing. You collapsed; went into a coma. The doctors didn't know what was wrong with you. I refused to leave your side for weeks. Dad had to call John Winchester to come help him with research because he couldn't figure out what went after you.

"And then one day you woke up. You told me you loved me. And you were dead the next day. You left us. 'Cause Dad was just a shell. He couldn't run the shop, he couldn't do anything. Because his perfect wife? Gone. My perfect mom, our perfect family... gone. If the Winchesters hadn't stuck around for a few days... I wouldn't have had anything.

"I lost Dad that day, too. I had to grow up, because the Winchesters had to leave, and Dad wasn't going to help me. It took years... years for him to start acting like my dad again. He never even told me what it was that killed you. I hate you."

My voice cracked as tears started streaming down my cheeks.

"I hate you. And I love you. 'Cause I can't- I can't help it. You're my mom. And I still don't understand it... but I forgive you. I forgive you. For all of it. Everything. On the other side of this, we can start over, okay? You and me. We can get it right this time. But I need you to fight. Right now, I need you to fight. I need you- I need you to look at me, Mom. I need you to really look at me and see me. Mom, I need you to see me. Please."

My mom finally turned slowly and looked at me, eyes widening.

"Ellie?"

"Mom."

My head snapped back and suddenly I was awake in the Bunker, the electrodes ripped from my head. My mom was still unconscious across from me and as I looked around, I spotted Lady Bevell on the ground, her throat slit. Looking up, I locked eyes with Ketch.

"No," I breathed.

"Oh, yes," he smirked.