AN: The song for this chapter is "Devil Like Me" by Rainbow Kitten Surprise

Tate

     I heard some shouting when Abel went downstairs. It was hard to hear what they were saying, so I got up from the bed and made my way to the door, just as I opened it though, I was met by Abel, causing me to jump back a little bit.

  I could tell it startled him as well, as he placed his hand on his chest and let out a breathy chuckle.

    "Sorry," I winced.

"It's okay, I'm sorry if the yelling disturbed you," he apologized, walking into the room with his laptop tucked under one of his arms.

   I followed him and we resumed our earlier position on the bed, and he opened his laptop and began typing some things.

"What were you guys yelling about?" I asked, watching as his fingers typed at an impressive speed.

"Don't worry about it. They were just pissing me off," he answered, and I could tell by his tone that he didn't want to get into it, and since he was being so nice to me, I didn't push it. 

   "How many people are in this house?"

"Five, including you. It's Harry, me, and then Will and Niall, who you obviously haven't met yet," he answered, and I watched his screen as various tabs opened and closed.

"Are they nice? Are they like you?" I asked, and the hope was evident in my voice.

He cocked his head, thinking about it.

"I mean, as odd as it sounds, they're all like brothers to me. We are pretty much the only family each other has. Niall is pretty nice, he is like me, and mainly does behind the scene stuff. Will and Harry are the hands on guys. Will can be a dick sometimes, and he doesn't know when to shut up. Harry...well, he's Harry. I know he seems like an absolute ass, and a lot of the time, he is, but there's another side to him. I'm probably closest with him. I'm a bit younger than the rest of the guys, and while they all look out for me, Harry does the most."

    The shock must have been clear on my face, as Abel took one look at me and started to laugh.

"Yeah right. We must be thinking about two different people then," I chuckled.

"I'm serious! I mean I know the guy doesn't exactly seem like he has a lot of things going for him right now, considering that he kidnapped you and probably has been a complete dickhead since you met him, but that's just how he is when he's working. He doesn't crack, you know? In this line of work, it honestly is a very helpful way to be, sometimes I wish I could be more like him, and not let people see my emotions, but I guess I'm just different," he sighed, looking a little discouraged.

   I grabbed his hand and gave it a light squeeze, and he looked up at me through his glasses. 

"You don't need to change, Abel. You have empathy, you care for people. That's a good thing. I don't know how you got into this line of work, but honestly, I'm glad you did. I don't know how I would be holding up right now if I hadn't met you," I smiled, and he was beaming back at me.

  "Thank you, Tate," he replied sheepishly. 

    "Of course."

"Okay, so, let's get started on figuring this thing out. We need to figure out why your last name is associated with the software, so let's start brainstorming ideas," he spoke, looking back at me.

    "Um, could you maybe ask me some questions that you think would help? I don't really know how these things work," I asked, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear.

He laughed and nodded. "Oh right, shit. It's been awhile since I've talked with someone not in our line of work. Sometimes I forget that normal people exist. Okay, um...so your mom is a maid, right? She doesn't work a second job or anything?"

  My eyes widened and I was about to ask how he knew what my mom did for a living when I mentally slapped myself on the head. 

   Professional tech guy for an organized crime group, right.

"No, she doesn't have a second job, and like me, she is absolute shit with computers," I answered.

"Okay, so that answers that," he started, pausing to scratch his head and think.

"What about your dad?" he asked.

My heart dropped a little at his words, and I focused my attention to my lap, mindlessly tracing my finger across my knees.

"My dad is dead," I replied, my voice barely more audible than a whisper.

I heard Abel mumble an embarrassed "shit" under his breath, and he reached his hand up to run it through his hair.

"I'm sorry, Tate," he spoke, his voice quiet like mine.

"It's okay, it happened a long time ago. I was just a baby, I don't really remember anything about him," I replied.

"Do you have any siblings or extended family that you're close with?" 

I shook my head. "I'm an only child. My mom never got remarried after my dad died. My dad has a brother, although I'm not very close with him. I've only met him about two or three times. He lives in Scotland now, I think."

 He nodded in reply, pausing for a bit before he spoke again.

"I know this is really hard to talk about, but do you think you could tell me more about your dad? Anything could help, let's start with his name," he asked, looking up at me to check and see if this was okay.

  I took a deep breath before nodding. "His name was Christopher."

Abel began typing on his computer, and I looked over at his screen to see that he was making some sort of list.

"Okay, what did he do for work?" he asked.

"My mom told me that he was a writer. He really liked poetry. He would go to local universities sometimes and teach classes on poetry."

Abel typed down my words as I spoke.

"How um...how did he die?" He asked softly.

I shuddered as I prepared myself to answer.

"He was murdered."

Abel let out an audible gasp. I looked up and saw the pain in his eyes.

"By who? Why?" He asked.

"I don't know. My mother said the police never found the killer. It ended up being a cold case. No one knows who killed him or why they did it. From what my mother has told me about him, he was one of the nicest people in the world. Everybody loved him. I can't think of any reason why someone would want him dead," I replied, feeling a small lump in my throat. 

"We can stop now if you want," Abel offered.

I shook my head. "No. I'm fine. Let's keep going."

"Were your dad and your uncle close?"

"Not super close. They didn't hate each other or anything like that. They were just always so independent and didn't talk much. I remember my uncle being a nice man from the few times I've met him though."

"Is there anything else significant about your dad that you could tell me?" he asked, and I could tell at this point he was just grasping for any bit of information he could get.

"The only thing I can think of is a story my mom used to tell me about him," I replied, shrugging, not sure how a childhood anecdote could be of any use to my current situation.

"Could you tell me what it was, please?" 

I nodded, sitting up a little straighter. 

"Since my dad died when I was just a baby, there are very few stories my mom could tell me about him that involved me. But there was one, and I made her tell it to me so many times I thought I was going to drive her crazy," I laughed, thinking about the many nights I begged my mom to tell me the story again. "I was about a year old. We were all at a picnic in a park by the house I grew up in. My dad told my mom that it was one of the happiest days of his life. He had his two best girls with him, and that's all he needed. He said we were the most beautiful things in the world to him, and that we reminded him of one of his favorite poems, by E.E. Cummings."

"How does it go?" Abel asked, and I didn't need to think about it for a second, I had it so deeply engraved in my mind, that I couldn't forget it even if I wanted to.

I took a deep breath and opened my mouth to reply.

"I carry your heart with me(i carry it in
my heart)i am never without it(anywhere
i go you go,my dear;and whatever is done
by only me is your doing,my darling)
i fear
no fate(for you are my fate,my sweet)i want
no world(for beautiful you are my world,my true)
and it's you are whatever a moon has always meant
and whatever a sun will always sing is you
here is the deepest secret nobody knows
(here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud
and the sky of the sky of a tree called life;which grows
higher than soul can hope or mind can hide)
and this is the wonder that's keeping the stars apart
i carry your heart(i carry it in my heart)."

Abel whistled in reply.

"That is beautiful," he smiled, but suddenly his smile dropped. 

"What is it?" I asked, feeling a bit of panic beginning to rise in my chest.

"I just...I wonder if..." he trailed off, turning his attention back to his laptop, typing some things until a screen popped up, with a blank space.

I glanced down at his hands and I noticed that they were shaking. He took a deep breath to steady himself.

I watched intently as his hands began to type something into the blank space.

"E.E. Cummings."

He took one final shaky breath before pressing enter.

The screen buffered for a moment, before a new tab popped up, revealing a message.

"Step one is complete, but the journey will still be a feat.

Good things come to those who wait, and what is meant to be shall be, as told by our good friend fate.

In a world overrun by technology, it is important to handle major matters responsibly.

Nothing worth having comes easy, and so in order to appease me

You must abandon your comfort zone, let the challenge shake you to the bone.

Power often falls into the wrong hands, so it is imperative that you understand

In order to access the world of technology, complexity, and all things new,

You must go back to simpler times, back to the roots.

By journeying to the past, you will find what you need,

You will find the answers,

You will find the key."

Both Abel and I's jaws were nearly hitting the floor as we finished reading. 

"What the fuck?" I breathed out in disbelief.

"You can say that again. I think things just got much more complicated," he sighed, taking off his glasses and cleaning the lenses.

"Why is that?" I asked.

"Because," he began, moving his laptop to the side and flopping down onto the bed. "We don't just need one passcode. We need multiple, and if this riddle means what I think it means, then no amount of technology will help us."

"Abel, what are you saying?" I asked cautiously.

"I'm saying, that the way to get into this software isn't done by computers. You said your dad liked poetry, obviously he used that in developing this software. I think that the only way to get into this software is by solving riddles and poems."

"But we don't even know what poems or riddles it's asking for! There was nothing else besides the one riddle!" I cried in exasperation.

"Well, we better look again. There has to be something in there that is a clue of some sort, something that will spark something and lead us to the next answer. I just don't understand why a poet would be involved in software development. Or why they wanted to make it so hard to get into. It's like they were trying to protect something, or keep someone out."

I groaned, flopping back down onto the bed next to him. 

"So, what do we do now?" I asked quietly.

He let out a sigh, and out of the corner of my eye, I could see him twiddling his thumbs again.

"To be honest? I have no idea."

AN: DOUBLE UPDATE WOOOOOOHOOOOOOOOO!! WOW THIS CHAPTER WAS A WHIRLWIND! WHAT DO YOU GUYS THINK? LET ME KNOW! DON'T FORGET TO VOTE AND COMMENT! ILY ALL I WILL TRY AND HAVE CHAPTER 14 UP TONIGHT AND IF NOT THEN I WILL HAVE IT UP TOMORROW! THANK YOU ALL FOR EVERYTHING YOU ARE ALL ABSOLUTE GEMS!! xx