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Lia walked into the kitchen, surveying her surroundings. It was rare that she had the house to herself. The others were currently out, going to some jewelry store or whatever. Either way, she knows she has at least three hours to herself.
Just the right amount of time to make a birthday cake for a certain broody one-year-older-as-of-today blonde.
She had secretly bought all the ingredients bit by bit over the course of the last two weeks, setting up each domino for her to have just the right amount of time at just the right day with just the right ingredients to make just the right cake. Strawberry shortcake. It had always been Dean’s favorite.
Just as she was reaching into the depths of the third cupboard above the sink to get the last thing she had stashed away, she heard the sound of footsteps creaking on the floor. Her mind sparked to life as she felt her fingers instinctively wrap around the closest knife she could reach. Who could be here? Everyone had left. She made sure of it. A burglar? Maybe, but she could deal with those. Goddamnit Lia, breathe. Oh she was going to kill whoever it was for messing up her perfect plan.
She tracked the footsteps, noting their exact location and speed. She tried not to think about how many times she had done this before.
They were getting closer.
Closer.
And…. now.
She rushed toward the entry into the kitchen, the knife clutched in her hand. The knife was just a few inches away from the intruder’s neck when she saw it was Sterling and froze.
“I would appreciate it if you didn’t try to stab me.” Sterling crossed her arms, her eyebrows raised the slightest bit.
“Fine. I won’t, since you’re so kindly telling the truth.” And she was. Sterling didn’t want Lia to stab her.
Lia opened a drawer and moved to put the knife in, but slid the knife up her sleeve, making sure it was out of sight, using a rubber band from the drawer to prevent it from sliding down. She tried not to feel like a band of thorns was tied around her wrist again, moving the band as far up her arm as she could. If Sterling noticed any of that, she didn’t point it out.
“What are you doing in here?” Sterling surveyed the flour and bowl and whisks and everything else set up neatly on the kitchen island. Lia shrugged.
“I’m building a house. Why are you here?” Lia’s eyes didn’t move from Sterling’s.
“I heard a noise in the kitchen.” Half truth. She was hiding something. Lia narrowed her eyes.
“Why aren’t you out with the others?” She didn’t let her voice betray any of her nerves. Sterling shrugged.
“I wasn’t feeling well so I told them to go ahead. Why aren’t you?” Lie.
“Liar.”
The tension in the room was thick enough that if Lia took out the knife she could make the air bleed. Sterling broke it.
“I didn’t go with them because I sensed something was off. Because you didn’t go. Because it is Dean’s birthday today and you are the only person who hasn’t acknowledged that yet in any form. And you love him too much to forget.” And there it was. The truth. But something in Sterling’s tone made Lia think it still wasn’t everything. She decided to get that last bit of information out later, instead focusing her attention back on the cake she was supposed to be making now that she was sure Sterling wasn’t a threat. She ran her finger along the knife still secure against her arm under her sleeve.
“No, I just didn’t want to go stare at bracelets.” She shrugged as she measured out the flour. That was kind of the truth. Kind of the truth, but not the full truth. Sterling didn’t move. Sterling didn’t leave. Lia felt her presence as she felt the cool metal of the knife again.
Without a word, Sterling stepped toward her. Lia pretended not to feel the air shift and every muscle in her body stiffen, ready to run or attack or do something. Sterling stepped next to her and looked at the recipe Lia had printed. She took the baking soda and a measuring spoon and got to work. Lia pretended not to feel the relief as every muscle in her body began to relax again, finding solace in the methodical steps of baking.
They worked in sync, making up a system without needing to talk. They were never within two feet of each other – Lia made sure of that – and never uttered a word. At some points, Lia could almost forget Sterling was there. Almost, but not quite; some part of her body would make sure she was constantly alert of the movements of the agent beside her.
It wasn’t until she put the cake in the oven that she felt the unease really start to sink in again. She had to wait for the cake to come out. She had nothing else to do. And Sterling was in the room with her, when she was supposed to be alone.
Sterling seemed to sense it too.
“How long have you been planning this?” The agent’s voice wasn’t cold per say, but it definitely wasn’t warm either. Lia wasn’t an emotion reader, but she was a lie detector. She could tell that some part of her comfort and ease and professionalism was a lie.
She narrowed her eyes but didn’t respond. She felt the knife. She felt the rubber band. She felt the thorns. She crossed her arms and leaned against the wall, trying to ignore her body screaming at her to run.
“Lia,” Sterling sighed, running a hand through her hair. All the professionalism gone from her body. The shift of taking off a costume that Lia knew all too well. “I–”
“Why do you hate me,” Lia cut her off. It wasn’t a question; it was a demand. A demand for answers, a demand for the truth, a demand for her to go away. Sterling looked at her, some indecipherable mixture akin to confusion or whatever on her face. Michael would know exactly what she was feeling, but all Lia could figure out was that this emotion wasn’t a lie. It faded quickly though, her face melting back into whatever it was before.
“I don’t hate you, Lia.” Technically true. But hiding something.
“Don’t you?” She raised an eyebrow, subtly running a finger down the blade again and running through all the possible exits and entrances in her mind. “Because it sure seems like you do.”
“What?” Sterling’s eyebrows furrowed the slightest bit. “Lia…” she let out another sigh as she sat down on a chair at the kitchen island. “What did I do to make you think I hate you?”
Lia gave a shrug as an answer. Everything, she wanted to say. The cold way Sterling always spoke to her, how she never seemed to acknowledge Lia unless it was for a case, the way she almost seemed to look through her instead of at her. “I know I break the rules. I’m not good and perfect like Sloane, and I provoke people in charge on purpose. I know I’m not easy to take care of, and I know I’m not a good person.” She inspected her nails. “What isn’t there to hate?”
“God, Lia. you’re not a bad person.” There seemed to be genuine worry written in her words, which Lia found somewhat strange. She didn’t deserve to make anyone worried, so why was Sterling?
“But I am. I killed someone when I was nine. I’m a murderer. I should be the one getting locked up, not doing the arresting.” She could feel emotions rising up, and took her hair out of her ponytail, shedding them as easily as she put her hairband in her pocket, safely tucked away for later – or never.
“Right, like what my father threatened to do?” Sterling’s voice was just sharp enough to cut through the haze settling in Lia’s mind, but soft enough to not be a threat. She stiffened.
“How do you know that?” No one was supposed to know. No one was supposed to know anything about her that she didn’t tell.
“I… I read your files, Lia. All of you guys’ files. It was part of why I decided to come back, so I could protect you all from anything else this terrible world can do.” Sterling’s eyes softened and her voice lowered. “I know you’re a good person, Lia. I know why you break the rules, and I know why every person in a position of power is a threat to you. And I know that you only killed that man because you had to.” Lia suddenly realized her lungs were beginning to fail again.
“Then why do you hate me?” Her voice was broken and she hated it. She hated feeling weak. She pressed her finger to the tip of the knife, stopping just short of breaking skin.
“I don’t, Lia. I didn’t want you to feel like I was intruding and changing the only sense of stability you’ve ever had.” She paused for a moment, before letting out a sigh. “Sometimes I look at you and I feel all the anger I’ve never let myself feel. Anger at all the people who did that to you, anger that we can’t catch them. I see a girl who holds all the anger in the world because anger is easier than every other emotion but doesn’t let herself feel it because she’s scared to be controlled by anything but herself. I see a girl who reminds me of myself in a lot of ways: broken yet reluctant to admit it.” She searched Lia’s face for a response that she never got. So she continued. “I care so much about all of you, Lia, and I’m sorry I ever made you think otherwise.”
“Why did you really stay behind?” Lia asked after a moment of silence.
“I was worried about you. You seemed preoccupied. And we haven’t spent much time together out of the field so,” she shrugged. “I wanted to test it out.” And there it was. The full truth.
The timer beeped, signaling the end of the baking. Lia took the cake out of the oven, setting it aside to cool as she got the frosting and icing ready.
“Two months,” she said suddenly while placing the strawberries between the two layers of cake.
“What?”
“You asked how long I’d been planning this.” She laid the second layer of cake on top. “Well, longer if you mean how long I had been planning to surprise him with something. We do this every year for birthdays. Usually it’s small stuff, but this year I wanted to do something bigger.” A soft smile crept onto her face as she remembered what Dean did for her birthday that year. Or, well, his best guess to her birthday. The stuffed bear had remained on her bed ever since. Sterling studied her for a moment.
“You really love each other, don’t you.” Sterling’s voice was warmer, more relaxed. Lia didn’t respond. Of course they did. He was her brother, and she was his sister.
A silence settled over them again as they worked on making the cake as beautiful as they could, but this time Lia felt like she could actually breathe.
As she added the final touches onto the cake, piping out an exaggerated “Happy Birthday Dean” on top, her phone buzzed with the notification that Dean was four minutes away from reaching their house.
“You have a tracker on him?” Sterling asked, raising an eyebrow. Lia shrugged.
“I told you. I’ve been planning this for a while.” She ran a finger over the knife again, expecting the agent to scold her. If she was being honest, she was half expecting Sterling to yell and threaten her. She crossed her arms, willing her emotions and memories of other adults away. It only half worked, but that was good enough. She was a good liar. To Lia’s surprise, Sterling’s face didn’t contort with anger, she didn’t hit her, and she didn’t corner her. She laughed.
“You really do have everything planned out, don’t you?”
“What can I say? I’m committed,” She said with a shrug. “Now go get ready or whatever. He’ll be here in, like, two minutes.”
Sterling walked out of the room, then came back a minute later wearing something more formal than a sweatshirt, much to Lia’s relief. Today had to be perfect. For Dean.
Right on cue, less than a minute after Sterling had come back, Lia heard their car pulling up the driveway. She smiled, almost bouncing with anticipation. She counted the seconds it took for the door to open, knowing instinctively that Dean would be the first one in.
“Happy birthday, Dean-o,” she said, walking over and giving him a hug, careful to keep the knife hidden.
“What happened here?” He asked, looking around. She could see him fighting a smile.
“It’s your present this year. The cake, I mean. The icing on it isn’t the best, but I tried and think it should taste fine. I hope, anyway.” She realized she was rambling in front of everyone, so she stopped.
“Thank you, Lia.” The soft smile on his face was worth every headache she got from trying to organize this thing without a house of Naturals, FBI agents, and a former marine realizing. “I can’t believe you managed to hide this from all of us without anyone finding out. I love you so much.”
Lia was relieved to find that she had in fact followed the recipe correctly and it did taste good. She only had a little bit, but was glad to see everyone else enjoying it.
When no one was looking, she slipped the knife back into the drawer it came from, relieved at not having anything around her wrists again. If Sterling saw, she didn’t mention it.