FFM5: Questions, Questions, Questions

Brendan grumbled, tapping his foot on the ground. He stared directly at the one way window in front of his table. At least, he assumed it was a one way window, and he was the wrong side of it. Instead, it was a mirror showing his ruffled hair, and a flannel covered with bits of feathers.

The officer had left 23 minutes and 6 seconds ago, by his count, and Brendan hated waiting. He hated it. And he had no idea where Cameron was. His brother belonged at his side, not vanished into wherever he may have been.

He should have been here, he should have been here, he should have been there.

Brendan ground his teeth unhappily. There was a salty sand sort of taste on his tongue, and he couldn't seem to escape it.

Twenty four and thirty, twenty four and thirty one, twenty four and thirty two-

The door opened and the sound of boots on concrete made him sit up straighter. It wasn't an officer.

"Brendan."

"Deceit." It was a greeting, barely, and more a question.

She held up the keys to his cuffs. "Do you need these?"

"No." He admitted, sliding his hands out of the metal bracelets with some ease. "Why are you here?"

"Are you complaining?"

"Not yet." He backed off, but there was something. How had she known he'd be here. Why was she here.

"Good. We've been summoned." She announced, like that changed anything.

"But-"

"And don't worry about the thing with the moon." She turned, shoving her hands in her pockets. "It was a lot more paperwork than I wanted, but it's back in the sky where it belongs." She assured him.

Brendan frowned, but followed her. Clearly, she knew everything. Somehow.