Lark silently commanded herself to fight the urge to shake and scream at the body she cradled. When he had started convulsing, Lark instinctively held onto him. When another dozen or so Spur Corps members surged into the room, she glared at them.

“No! Don’t touch him!” she screamed, hunching her body around the man she was now certain she had once known as Sterling. His eyes had been unfocused, crazed, but those beautiful gray orbs belonged to her second brother.

The protective ring of guards took a step back. She had never been so desperate in her life. Conan yelled for Raphael. The air seemed to crackle with electricity. Sterling’s strong body had started to calm down. He still struggled internally with something, but he had settled with his head in her lap, arms locked around her arm.

Lark’s friends buzzed around them nervously, but she ignored them and kept talking to Sterling, leaning over his face. “Sterling, can you hear me?”

His tired eyes finally opened long enough for him to give her a small smile, then he relapsed into unconsciousness.

At first, she was afraid he was dead, but she could feel a weak pulse. She looked up, bewildered, at Raphael cautiously approaching. When had he come in? She watched his movements like a hawk, willing him to understand she would protect this man with her life.

“What happened?” she asked.

“I’m not sure,” Raphael said. “I need to look at him, princess.”

“Be careful.” She finally let her medic examine Sterling.

Raphael waved a small stick over Sterling’s body, getting a scan of his vitals. “I’ve got to get him to the hospital.” Raphael looked to Avi and Harold for permission.

Lark finally took a look around her. Wow. When had all these people come in?

Raphael called in more doctors on their way to the hospital. She heard him say something about not understanding the brain waves. Feeling shaky, she stayed with Sterling as he was quickly set up in the private room that she had first woken up in. Nurses and doctors came and went, taking scans, administering IVs, and making solemn faces.

She stayed in the corner, refusing to let Sterling out of her sight.

One of the doctors stopped in his tracks, eyes darting back and forth from Steele’s comatose state to one of his screens. “Hypno?” he said out loud, his tone incredulous.

That got everyone’s attention.

“Hypno? Steele is a Hypno?” The whisper buzzed around the hallway outside his room, filled with Wysteria and Spur Corps members.

Lark turned to the smartest man she knew, Joshua. “What is a Hypno? What is going on?”

She didn’t want to interrupt the doctor, who had blocked everyone out and gone back to his machines. Josh, Conan, Harold, and Avi huddled with her in the corner. Shamira peeked in through the open door.

Josh hesitated, giving Sterling a long look. “How do you think you know Steele, princess?”

As impatient as she was to have everything explained, Lark knew he only called her “princess” in private when things got serious.

“His name is not Steele; it’s Sterling. He’s my brother.” Lark looked at the shock on everyone’s faces. She understood the feeling.

“Are you sure?” Avi asked.

Not trusting her voice, she nodded.

“And you’re sure this is the Steele who held you when you retrieved Lark?” Avi asked Harold.

He and Conan also nodded.

But as Lark studied the faces of her companions, she noticed a gleam of newfound respect toward Sterling. This didn’t make any sense. How could Sterling be here, what was “Hypno,” and why did being one change everyone’s attitude?

She grew impatient and noticed her skin buzzing with her nerves.

Calm down. The last thing we need is for you to burst into flames.

“What is Hypno?” she asked again.

“It’s kind of an urban legend,” Joshua finally explained. “Lots of people have heard about it, but few actually know what it entails. Hypno is short for Hypno-Slave. It’s something of a cross between hypnosis and brainwashing. It’s been outlawed due to the extreme danger, not to mention the breach of human privacy rights. You literally toy with the person’s brain. Manipulating memories, even rewriting them. It’s so taxing on the brain and body that most people die after any attempt. They are the lucky ones. A few survive, only to live out the rest of their days in torment. Half of their brain cells are in constant flux. They’re never sure if they’re in reality, reliving a memory, or experiencing something someone else put in their head.”

Lark shuddered, looking at the man she was sure she had called brother in what felt like a past life. A past life for both of them, apparently. She was reminded how fragile life was as she compared the pale, broken form in front of her to the laughing, boisterous second brother of her memories.

“And then,” Joshua continued, “there are people like Steele. The rare few who are strong enough to somehow survive ‘Conditioning.’ At that point, whoever has done the Hypno process has complete control over them. They are loyal to the point of dying and will do anything they are told. The hitch is that they need to have some sort of contact with their ‘Sponsor’ within a every day or two, or the conditioning unravels, and madness takes over. Even then, they tend to die within six months. The strain is just too much. If we’re correct, Steele is fighting an unimaginable tax on his mind and body. I’ve never heard of someone being able to war against the Hypno effects. Steele is a man of legend to survive all this.”

“Sterling,” she whispered, gazing at his prone body for a long time, tearing up.

What had Casimer Talbot put Sterling through? She vowed to find out and do whatever it took to bring her brother back.

Muffled voices cut through the surrounding blackness. Can’t see anything. Can’t understand anything. Who’s talking? Straining, the voices started to become clear.

“…I’m her oldest brother. It’s my job to worry about her. And I know she took excellent care of herself and Mom while we were on deployment, but she’s been through too much for a girl her age. She should just be a happy, carefree, high school girl. I want her to at least have nothing to worry about when I’m around.”

Silent blackness.

“Sterling! Can you hear me? Please, please come back to me. Snowy! Those wires are not for you to play with!”

“Sterl! You’re up early! I haven’t got the picnic food ready yet.”

The oppressive blackness gave way to disjointed images. Wooden...cabinets? Hand-drawn pictures stuck on a white door.

“That’s all right.” Steele yawned. “I only just got up. Let me get a drink, then I’ll help you finish.”

“Aw, thanks. And morning!”

Hazy pictures solidified into a messy kitchen. A young, dark-haired girl stood on a step stool, reaching into a cupboard. Stomach grumbling, Steele turned to the refrigerator, messy colored-pencil drawings taking a place of prominence on the door. Short arms encircled him from behind as he tried to open it.

“Morning, Larkie.” He paused as a cold, wet sensation imprinted itself on his stomach and back. “Larkspur! Yuck. What are you getting all over me?” He twirled around, holding her at arms-length to scrutinize the young girl.

“Oops.” She grinned at him sheepishly. “I forgot. The blender decided to be ornery today as I was making a smoothie. It got all over the place.”

Her blue and gray eyes sparkled. They made him dizzy. His vision kept fading and then coming back.

“Including you, I see.” Steele rolled his eyes.

“I know how to get that cleaned up right away.” The young girl gave a wolfish smile.

Larkspur. Steele–no, Sterling. He was Sterling–can’t quite remember how he knew this girl. Or why he felt so responsible for her happiness and safety.

“Oh really?” Sterling watched himself drop his arms from Lark.

“No, wait!” he struggled to bring his arms back around her. “Don’t let go! You can’t lose her!” But try as he might, Sterling couldn’t get them to move an inch.

“Yep.” Lark grabbed the extendable faucet from the kitchen sink and pointed it right at him.

Sterling’s eyes grew wide as he realized what was about to happen. “Wait, Lark, no!”

But it was too late. Lark sprayed his entire body with icy water.

Finally escaping the barrage, he wiped his eyes to see Lark clambering into Alexander’s arms.

“Figures,” Sterling muttered.

Relief surprisingly washed through him. Why would he feel like such a burden was lifting at the mere sight of Lark with Alexander? “You need to get cleaned up, Lark, then you can wake Mom.” Alexander started carrying her upstairs.

Lark laughed. “I’ll get stronger and bigger, then I can protect you both, too!” she called down the stairs.

Sterling smiled to himself. He wished Lark could stay nine forever. But whatever happened, whoever came in and out of their lives, there would always be the four of them.

The world faded once more into darkness

“Look, we’ve been researching as much as possible for the last two days, but Hypno-Slave technology is not our area of expertise,” Raphael said apologetically. “There’s just too much we don’t know. It was an illegal secret that didn’t get far beyond the experimental stage before being discovered over a hundred years ago.”

“I can see why,” Larkspur muttered grouchily.

She had barely moved an inch from Sterling’s side unless it was absolutely necessary. She felt constantly on the verge of tears, which was irritating. It was driving her crazy to be stuck doing hours of research with no results except more headaches.

“It’s strange,” Josh said from the chair he had appropriated in the corner. “I’ve spent every spare minute looking into our records. There isn’t a lot there. But instead of hypnosis, this process almost sounds mystical–not scientific.”

“Maybe we should look into myths and legends?” she suggested. “They often came from a grain of truth.”

They already had a bunch of material for their other project. They would just add Hypno-Slave to the research list.

Josh’s eyes narrowed as he probably thought about where to start. Her friends had decided to keep a rotating watch with her. She was grateful for their comforting presence.

Why hadn’t she studied psychology? Or mythology? Trauma medicine had been her goal, but ironically it wasn’t coming in handy now. Sterling’s brain had been traumatized, not so much his body.

She had been promised a few days of vacation after the packed debut week. But she hadn’t imagined spending them watching over her supposedly dead brother’s unconscious body. Sometimes he would moan, sometimes thrash about blindly. But more often than not, he just…lied there. Cold and silent. Fighting an internal battle that she couldn’t hope to understand or help.

“Sterling…” Lark’s voice broke. She sank into her usual chair next to his bed, bowing her head over his limp hand.

“How are you feeling?” Josh asked. “Do we need to head to the lab?”

When her skin got buzzy, she worried about accidentally shorting all the machines in the room. So she would occasionally head out to burn off some extra energy.

“I’m fine. Just a little tired. And hungry.”

“You try to get a nap,” Joshua urged. “I’ll go make you some food so it’s ready when you wake up.”

“Just some leftovers or a sandwich is fine,” she hedged gently.

Joshua narrowed his eyes. “That wouldn’t be you trying to say something about my cooking skills, would it? Because I don’t want to hear it from someone with your track record.”

Lark snorted, trying to cover a laugh. Back on Earth, she had pretty much lived off takeout, macaroni and cheese, and instant noodles. For an unrivaled genius, Josh was almost as bad a cook as herself.

“We should take a cooking class together,” he suggested.

“That sounds fun!” She smiled. “I’ve always wanted to learn how to make crème brûlée.”

“How about let’s learn how to make an edible bowl of soup first?” Joshua looked amused.

“Very well,” she lamented. “Soup before complicated desserts. Sterling wouldn’t be able to eat much else for a while, anyway. I should probably learn to make something that won’t kill him.”

“He’d probably appreciate that.” Joshua sighed with resignation.

Everyone had long since stopped reminding Larkspur there was a good possibility Sterling would never wake up again. And if he did, his mind could be mush. From the little bit they had gleaned from their research, the Hypno-Slave process sounded like horribly cruel torture.

Lark lost herself to memories when Joshua left.

They started out nice, with fond early moments exploring with Alex and Sterling, their mother teaching her how to read. Mapping out stars with her brothers. But inevitably, the harder memories came in. Her mother cruelly murdered before her eyes. Losing the only other family she had left.

After miraculously finding one of her precious loved ones, she wasn’t sure she could handle losing him again. She immediately squashed any hope about Alex.

When they asked how Sterling had ended up here, the obvious conclusion was that Casimer had brought him. Whether he knew who they were was uncertain, but it seemed logical to think Alex had been brought to the future as well. But if that were so, did he suffer the same fate as Sterling? Did he survive the ambush on Earth? Was he–

Wait until we know how Sterling survived. Don’t get ahead of yourself.

“Please,” she murmured, head lowering to the bed as she drifted into an exhausted sleep. “Please don’t leave me again, Sterling.”

Before her brain could register to wipe away the tear rolling down her cheek, merciful sleep swept away the heart-wrenching memories and fears.