Hey Sister, Know that Water's Sweet but Blood is Thicker

Turner came down the stairs first, still half-awake, followed closely by Becca and Sara. Phoebe walked with them, a half-step behind, hands clasped together as if she wasn’t quite sure where to put them yet. It felt similar to going to someone's house who she didn't know very well, she was nervous about almost everything. She only knew more than a couple of these people by anything other than name, and saying that she really knew them would be a stretch.

"Oh, hey Turner!" Emma chirped. "Decided to join us for breakfast today?"

Turner blinked at her, processing. “Uh. Yeah. Figured I’d try being social for once here.”

"Aaand...there's another reason," Sara stepped forward, pulling Phoebe to the front along with her. “This,” she said, gently but decisively, “is Phoebe.”

Phoebe lifted one hand in a small, uncertain wave, then seemed to reconsider and lowered it halfway, fingers curling back into her other palm. “Hi,” she offered, sounding like she’d rehearsed the word in her head on the way down the stairs.

The room did that thing it sometimes did when something new entered the ecosystem: conversation abruptly stopped, chairs creaked as people shifted, eyes flicked toward Turner and then back to the unfamiliar girl standing beside him.

Emma tilted her head. “Oh. Hi! I don’t think we’ve—”

“We have,” Paige interrupted.

Phoebe’s gaze snapped toward Paige, relief and dread arriving at the same time. “Paige,” she said, grateful for the lifeline but disdainful at the one who delivered it. “Hey.”

Abby, halfway through pouring herself coffee, froze mid-pour. The stream sloshed over the rim of her mug before she noticed. “Wait,” she said slowly, eyes narrowing as she looked Phoebe up and down. “Phoebe Phoebe?”

Lana’s expression shifted next—less surprise, more admission. She leaned back in her chair, arms folding loosely. “Hmph,” she murmured. “Didn’t expect that.”

Emma leaned forward on her elbows, interest fully engaged. “So,” she said brightly, eyes sparkling as she looked Phoebe over again, “New girl, Phoebe I guess? I'm Emma, welcome to the chaos! Do you, uh…want coffee? Or is this one of those mornings where coffee is a mistake?”

Phoebe blinked, thrown by the sudden normalcy of the question. “I—coffee’s good,” she said. “Usually. I think.”

Turner cleared his throat, suddenly aware that every version of attention in the room seemed to be around him whether he liked it or not. “Phoebe’s… staying with us for a bit,” he said, the words careful. “Figured it was better to, you know. Not pretend she didn’t exist.”

Kathryn walked up to Phoebe, offering her a firm handshake. "Phoebe, is it? I'm Kathryn, Sara's roommate on this...place. She's told me a great deal about you."

“Hopefully nothing incriminating,” Phoebe said, managing a thin smile.

Kathryn’s lips twitched. “Nah, only good things,” she replied. "At least, I hope her saying that I reminded her of yourself was a positive thing."

Phoebe exhaled. “I’ll take it as a compliment,” she said, then glanced back at Turner, as if checking whether she was allowed to be comfortable yet. He returned with a neutral expression and a half-shrug.

“So,” Emma said, unable to help herself, “how do you know Turner?”

"What I'm wondering is what she's doing here," Anastasia offhandedly said. "I may be pretty new here, but I don't think Kendra would replace two people after one elimination."

"Oh, I'm his sister," Phoebe flatly replied.

The entire lounge went silent at that.

"His sister?" Charlotte repeated. "Kendra brought you onto a show where your brother is the harem master?"

Paige snorted. “Real bright one, that Kendra.”

"Look, we went over this last night," Turner rubbed the nape of his neck in discomfort. "I...we're...none of us are sure why exactly Phoebe is here. Not even sure if she's gonna compete, which I damn well hope she doesn't have to. When Anastasia was brought onto the show, there was pomp and circumstance around it. It was done at the start of a round. Phoebe just...appeared on my date with Sara. She was just in the building we were in, like it was a normal Tuesday night."

Kathryn blinked, then frowned slightly. “Huh,” she said. “Okay, so if Phoebe’s not deliberately a contestant, that means Kendra’s either lying by omission or setting up a delayed reveal.” She winced. “Sorry. That was… not helpful.”

Paige, who had been quiet longer than usual, leaned back and crossed her arms, eyes never leaving Phoebe. “So,” she narrowed her eyes, “are you here to keep an eye on your younger brother, or is this more of an...experiment?”

Phoebe stiffened at the word "experiment". Turner noticed immediately.

“She’s here because Kendra wanted her here,” he firmly responded, stopping short of admonishing Paige for her insinuations. “Whatever that means.”

“That’s not an answer,” Paige replied, frowning.

“It’s the only one you’re getting,” Becca cut in, already annoyed. "What, you want me to go ask Kendra about it? I'm sure that'll go over well. Maybe she'll only change me physically this time instead of rewriting my entire psyche."

“Seriously,” Abby added, backing up her own sister. “We can either accept that Kendra’s being weird again, which, shocker, or we can all spiral before she's even been here for 24 hours.”

Sara, who had been hovering just a little too close to Turner since they’d entered the room, finally realized she was doing it and took a half-step away—then immediately regretted it. The space felt colder without him there. She clasped her hands together, smiling a little too brightly. “Breakfast is…um, yes, food,” she said to basically nobody. "Phoebe? I'm getting some tea. You want anything?"

“Tea sounds good,” Phoebe said quickly, grateful for conversation not related to her sudden arrival. “Thanks.”

Sara nodded and moved toward the counter, though she kept glancing back as if worried Phoebe might disappear if left unattended.

Charlotte was the first to recover fully. She popped up from her chair with a bright smile, energy dialed just a bit too high for the hour. “Okay! Well! If we’re doing introductions, I’m Charlotte,” she said, already reaching for the salt. “I make a killer omelette if you’re hungry-hungry. Or just regular hungry. Uh...I'm a student in the nursing school at State, and...yeah, that's about it!”

"Wait, you go to State too?" Phoebe asked, grateful to be addressed as a person and not a narrative hand grenade. "No way, I just got into law school there."

"Oh my gosh!" Charlotte exclaimed. "We should meet up for coffee sometimes. I'm usually at the coffee place on the corner, well, almost every day because I work night shifts on the floor."

"We definitely should," Phoebe nodded.

Lana gave Phoebe a once-over next, expression halfway between bored and hyper-aware. “So,” she said casually, “last time I saw you, you were very much not in a supernatural dating show.”

“Yeah,” Phoebe replied dryly. “That checks out. Wait, Lana? Why am I getting...two uh...backstories? Conflicting memories?”

Lana sighed deeply. Turner started to explain, but she held up her hand. "The short answer? Kendra. The long answer...my entire life was essentially rewritten. There's essentially two of me in history, one where I was Liam, and one where I'm...this. Both are essentially true and fake at the same time? I dunno, magic is weird."

Phoebe tilted her head, bewildered. “So… you’re saying,” she said slowly, “that in some version of the world, you could’ve been walking around here as a dude?”

"She was doing that," Turner clarified. "Or, well, he was? I don't really know. 'Liam' was essentially the real version, but it doesn't really feel like that anymore?"

"That doesn't...what?" Phoebe shook her head.

"I guess we'd all just kinda accepted it and moved on because, well, it's pretty rigorous here," Lana sighed. "Or, at least, I'd accepted it."

"I guess if we're doing formal introductions, I'll go next!" Emma offered with all the grace of a semi truck. "You already know I'm Emma, I went to high school and college with Turner, although I'm still a sophomore there. What else...uh…yeah, I’m kind of scatterbrained. Mostly harmless, I swear. I, uh, kind of tend to get…excited around Turner sometimes, heh. But, like, not in a weird way! I mean—well, maybe a little?”

Turner started pinching the bridge of his nose exasperatedly as Emma continued to ramble like a train without brakes.

Emma, for her part, stopped mid-sentence when she realized every single person at the table was staring at her.

“…What?” she asked defensively.

“You were doing fine,” Abby said dryly. “Right up until you weren’t.”

Anastasia, who had been watching Phoebe with intensity, finally leaned forward. “So,” she said, voice smooth, “you’re his sister.”

Phoebe met her intense gaze, chin lifting just slightly. “Last I checked.”

“And you just… showed up?” Anastasia pressed. “On a date?”

Sara returned at that exact moment with two mugs, nearly sloshing tea onto her hand. “It wasn’t like that,” she said quickly. “She wasn’t spying or anything. She just… was there. Hell, don't think she could've spied if she wanted to, considering she was brought here against her will like the rest of us.”

“Right,” Anastasia hummed, unconvinced.

Becca stepped subtly closer to Turner without even realizing she was doing it. Not possessive. Not territorial. Just… anchored. She looked Phoebe over again, this time less suspicious and more thoughtful.

“You’re not competing,” Becca said bluntly.

Phoebe blinked. “God, no.”

The room collectively exhaled.

“Good,” Charlotte chirped. “Because that would be…wow. Even for this place.”

Mandy, who had been silent, took a slow sip of her tea. “We don’t know that,” she said evenly. “Kendra doesn’t do accidents.”

“Okay,” Phoebe said carefully, looking around the table. “Can I just ask something before this turns into a conspiracy board with red string?”

“Please,” Kathryn replied, far too interested.

"How was it when you all...showed up here?" Phoebe wondered. "Did you just...materialize here and then you had to figure things out on your own?"

"Not exactly," Becca shifted between her feet. "There was...a sort of initiation ceremony. Kendra explained the rules. The points. The transformations."

Phoebe absorbed that, brow furrowing. “That wasn't really how it was when I showed up. I didn’t sign up for this. I didn’t audition. I didn’t even know this place existed until I walked into a karaoke bar and saw my brother and best friend under neon lights singing a duet.” She glanced at Turner. “Badly.”

"Thank you, oh dearest sister of mine," Turner sarcastically responded.

Abby pushed her chair back and stood, stretching casually, completely unbothered by the fact that her oversized sleep shirt rode up higher than strictly necessary, winking at Turner as she did so. “You get used to it,” she said, turning to Phoebe. “Eventually the weird just becomes background noise.”

Everyone sat in silence for a moment.

"So...what do we do now?" Phoebe asked.

"Well, as for myself, I've got a date with your brother today," Abby said, strutting over to Turner and linking her arm around his possessively.

"Huh?" Turner said, caught off-guard by Abby's sudden declaration, before remembering. "O-oh, yeah, right, your date night is tonight."

“You have a schedule?” Phoebe asked slowly.

"Everything in this dump is on a schedule," Paige grimaced.

“So,” Anastasia said smoothly, “you didn’t get an orientation.”

“No,” Phoebe replied.

“No explanation of… transformations?”

Phoebe rolled her eyes. "Well, Sara and Turner more or less gave me the rundown."

“If you haven't been officially briefed,” Kathryn said suddenly, words tumbling out before she could filter them. “That means Kendra either intends to **** an adaptation response or she’s testing how the system reacts to an uncontrolled variable.”

“Or,” Abby interjected calmly, “Maybe she just wants to mess with Turner."

"Why would that not surprise me?" Turner rhetorically asked.

"Could be a way to get leverage," Paige offhandedly remarked. "Especially after our little rebellion to save Becca."

"That can't-" Turner started.

"It absolutely could, and you know it," Paige glared at him. "I know you care about all of us here, but especially Phoebe, because she's your sister. You know Kendra could exploit that if she wanted to."

Phoebe looked at Paige, looking at how she glared at Turner. She saw how quickly Turner backed down at the withering stare his ex-girlfriend was giving him. She looked over at Becca, holding onto his arm. Over at Sara, still hanging nearby him.

"What a fucking mess," she sighed.

“So,” Emma said, leaning forward, chin in her hands. “What’s he like at home?”

Turner groaned immediately, knowing where this was going. “Oh God, no.”

Phoebe blinked. “You really want to know?”

“Yes,” Emma and Charlotte said in unison.

Phoebe studied her brother, then smiled evilly. “He sleepwalked until he was fourteen.”

Turner’s head snapped toward her. “I did not.”

“You absolutely did too,” Phoebe shot back. “I walked in on you making three bowls of Cheerios at 3:30 in the morning because you were making them for the dogs.”

Charlotte gasped. “That’s adorable.”

Turner pinched the bridge of his nose again. “I regret everything.”

Sara, who had been watching the exchange with shining eyes, felt her chest tighten as she envisioned something domestic and genuine. She stepped closer to him without meaning to, hand brushing along his back.

Becca noticed. She didn’t bristle. Didn’t pull him closer possessively. Instead, something in her shifted—subtle but profound. She watched Sara’s expression soften and felt that quiet hum in her own chest that had been evolving for weeks now. It wasn’t jealousy anymore. It was… something adjacent to pride. Something that said yes, that’s him. That’s the man I love. See him.

“Oh my God,” Phoebe muttered under her breath. “You’re all in love with him.”

“No we’re not,” Paige said instantly.

“Yes we are,” Emma corrected at the exact same time.

Paige, Becca, Turner, and Sara all shot Emma a look simultaneously.

“What?” Emma repeated, shrugging helplessly. “I was just being honest.”

Paige leaned forward, elbows on the table, eyes locked on Turner.

“You didn’t answer my question earlier,” she said, voice smooth. “What exactly are you going to do about this?”

“This?” Turner repeated.

“Her,” Paige clarified, gesturing loosely at Phoebe. “If Kendra put Phoebe here to destabilize you, are you gonna make a move?”

Turner exhaled. “I’m not making a move. She’s my sister.”

Paige’s lips curved—not cruelly, but knowingly. “That’s not what I meant, you dipstick. I know you're not making a move on Phoebe. I meant it in a much more all-encompassing sense. What are-”

Emma, who had since slunk back into a chair after offhandedly professing that she loved Turner, suddenly turned a much darker shade of red, letting out a loud moan that caught everyone off-guard.

"Okay, party's over!" Kathryn clapped, immediately catching onto what was happening. "Uh...Abby and Turner, have fun on your date! Sara, you can have fun with Phoebe catching her up or getting her some new clothes or something, and as for..."

"What just happened?" Phoebe interrupted, countering Kathryn's deflection with her quick wit.

Emma blinked rapidly, face flushed scarlet from collarbone to hairline. “I...I didn’t...someone said...” She stammered as she squeezed her eyes, and thighs, shut. “Oh my God.”

Turner’s brain scrambled. He ran through the list from this round. Two sets of five. One of them was safe. One of them very much wasn’t.

He replayed the last thirty seconds. Sleepwalked. Bowls. Cheerios. Dogs. Love. Sense.

His eyes snapped to Paige, whose smile only widened.

“You,” Turner accused.

“I didn’t say anything,” Paige replied innocently, though her gaze was bright with mischief. “Maybe someone else did.”

"I thought you might do something like that eventually, but I expected some civility," he pressed.

Phoebe blinked at the scene, her eyes darting from Emma, still flushed and panting softly, to Paige, whose smirk somehow radiated both guilt and amusement, to Turner, who looked...well, she really couldn't place it.

Kathryn recomposed herself, quickly turning to disaster mitigation mode once again. "Alright, let's not do this right now. Paige, you should probably go for now. Abby, go have a blast with Turner. The rest of us can deal with this."

Abby shot Turner a wink over Phoebe’s shoulder before skipping over to him and looping her arm through his. “We’ll be back for dessert,” she said with a grin, as if that settled everything.

As the two of them left, Sara looked on with longing. She was happy that she had someone else from her life before here, and that Phoebe wasn't actively freaking out about where she had gone off to. But the largest part of her wanted to continue the date from the week before, wanted to continue to get closer to Turner. And now Abby had just whisked him away, and was probably gonna have a much better date night than she did.

"Boy she sure was happy to leave, wasn't she?" Lana remarked.

Abby released his arm only long enough to stretch again, deliberately dramatic about it, which caused the hem of her shirt to ride up. She made no motion to fix it. Turner noticed. Abby noticed that he noticed. Her lips curved into a smirk.

“You’re staring,” she said lightly.

“I am not.”

“You absolutely are.”

“Abby.”

Turner sighed and ran a hand through his hair as they stepped out into the hallway.

“You do realize Phoebe’s first real impression of this place, well aside from Sara, myself, and Becca, was you practically dragging me away for a date, right?”

Abby tilted her head, pretending to think about it very seriously. "Yes,” she said after a beat. “And?”

Turner stared at her, which was received with a grin.

“What?” she said. “I do have a date scheduled with you today. It’s not like I made it up on the spot.”

“You didn’t have to announce it like you were claiming territory.”

“Please,” Abby snorted. “If I wanted to claim territory I’d have kissed you right there in front of everyone. You know I've done it before, and I'd do it again.”

Turner groaned quietly. “That’s exactly my point.”

They walked down the long corridor together, the Hotel oddly quiet compared to the chaos they’d just left behind. Abby’s bare feet made soft sounds against the polished floor, and after a moment Turner realized she hadn’t bothered with shoes at all.

“You forgot to wear shoes,” he said.

“Did I?” Abby replied innocently.

Turner sighed, at first worried sick after living in a dorm and hearing horror stories of the people who didn't wear footwear to the shower. Then, he realized that it probably didn't matter and there was no way that Kendra would allow someone to get some disease whilst here on the island. The train of thought caused him to glance down though, seeing Abby's oversized sleep shirt that she seemingly had neglected to change out of, which barely reached mid-thigh.

“You’re not wearing pants either.”

Abby followed his gaze and shrugged.

Turner exhaled slowly. “You know, most people would put on clothes before going on a date.”

“Most people don’t essentially live with the guy they've been dating for a week,” Abby countered.

That unfortunately had some truth to it.

Before the show, Abby had spent enough nights crashing on the couch at Turner and Becca’s place that the lines between “guest” and “roommate” had blurred completely. She’d wandered around in towels or oversized shirts before, but never anything less than that. Typically, Becca had insisted that Abby put more clothes on, to which Abby would always respond by pointing out that Turner had already seen her in worse states than that.

Turner rubbed the back of his neck, remembering a handful of late-night movie marathons where Abby had absolutely fallen asleep sprawled across the couch in a blanket that did very little actual covering. Granted, she didn't have the same proportions as she currently did now, but it wasn't like her figure before was ugly by any means.

“Becca usually kept you from getting…this comfortable,” he muttered.

“Becca also isn't here to supervise me,” Abby said brightly. “She’s inside. With your sister.”

Turner groaned again. “You saying that out loud doesn’t make this less weird.”

Abby studied him as they walked, her expression softening slightly behind the teasing.

“You’re worried about Phoebe, aren't you?” she said.

“I mean…yeah?” Turner replied. “She got dropped into this place with zero warning, and the first thing she sees today is Emma… doing whatever that was, Paige trying to start a conspiracy, and you dragging me off for a date. And I won't even get into the weirdness of her dropping in on me and Sara having a date."

“You know,” Abby said, leaning casually against the wall beside the door, “most people would be more concerned about the fact that their sister just found out they’re the center of some magical harem competition.”

“I am concerned about that.”

“You don’t look concerned about that,” Abby countered. “You look concerned about whether she’s comfortable.”

Turner rubbed the back of his neck again. “She’s always been the one who made sure I was comfortable growing up. Older sister instinct.”

“Ah,” Abby nodded slowly. “So now you’re trying to return the favor.”

“Something like that.”

She pushed off the wall and stepped closer, tilting her head up to look directly into his eyes.

“You’re a good guy, you know that?” she said.

Turner snorted. “That’s debatable in this place.”

“No,” Abby replied simply. “It isn’t. You know what someone who isn't a good person would've done? Left half of these people to sit by the wayside. But I see you trying to make these connections, work with these people who you don't know that much, or that you actively hate."

Turner let out a quiet breath through his nose. “‘Hate’ is a strong word.”

“You literally just had a staring contest with Paige across the breakfast table.”

“That was not a staring contest.”

“You both looked like you were about three seconds from throwing cutlery at each other.”

“…Okay, maybe a little.”

Abby smiled as she pushed open a door, revealing a garden courtyard that Turner had never visited before. As she stepped through the doorway, she stretched her arms again, deliberately pulling the shirt up with it and revealing her thighs.

“You know,” she said, “it’s kind of funny.”

“What is?”

“You keep acting like this is the first time you’ve ever seen me.”

Turner frowned slightly. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I mean… look at me,” Abby gestured vaguely at herself. “Kendra’s little makeover didn’t exactly go subtle.”

Abby had always been pretty—Becca’s younger sister, the energetic tagalong who had grown up around them. But Kendra’s transformation had refined things with unsettling precision. Her posture, her proportions, even the way she moved and carried herself seemed tuned to some internal blueprint of what Turner found attractive.

“Yeah,” he admitted carefully. “It wasn’t subtle.”

“The weird part?” she continued, stepping further into the courtyard. “It doesn’t feel fake.”

Turner raised an eyebrow. "How? When it's deliberately fake?"

“I mean,” Abby clarified, walking slowly along the stone path towards the shore. “I know Kendra changed things. I remember what I looked like before. But this?” She gestured to herself again. “It still feels like me.”

Despite the heavy subject matter, Abby still managed to have that wicked smirk about her, like she was up to something, but Turner knew her better than that. He knew that she was trying to have a very emotionally charged moment, and that these things were important to her.

All of that went out the window when she started speaking again.

"C'mon, let's go, I've got big plans!" she excitedly said, grabbing Turner's hand and pulling him through the garden.

"Big plans?" he asked.

"Oh, real big ones, just you wait." Turner couldn't see Abby's face, but he was fairly certain there was a gleam in her eyes.

"Are you gonna tell me what they are...or just leave me in mystery for the next few minutes?"

"Well, you and I, we're gonna take a boat onto the water."