Summary: Four years ago, Isadora Quagmire disappeared without a trace, clue or any evidence at all to help find her. Without any help from lazy police officers, the Quagmires and Baudelaires try to find her but slowly adapt to life without her their treasured friend. So what will they say when she shows up unscathed, unharmed but with a forgotten memory? T just in case.

Disclaimer: I own it all! I own everything!(please, please note the sarcasm) Yes I was joking. I don't own A Series of Unfortunate Events, Lemony Snicket, a.k.a Daniel Handler, does. I only own Cassandra, Nancy and Samantha and any other characters I decide to spontaneously add in.

A/N: This is my first EVER fan fic so please be a little understanding. I have about five or six chapters either written or typed so I'll probably be able to update pretty frequently. I have a lot of presentations and projects due so the slightly long periods of absence could be explained by the large pile of schoolwork. Also, please read and review so I could know what you think. I'll post AT LEAST once a week. Remember this is my first fan fic! Would you look at that! I wrote a long author's note. Updated on March 26th, 2010.

Chapter 1: Frightening Flashback…Part 1

Klaus Baudelaire sighed as he tossed the completed paperwork onto his desk, rejoicing at the fact that he was finally done everything that he had been assigned to do that day. Just in case, his eyes scanned the room to make sure that everything was completed, or else his boss, Mr. Reynolds, would most likely have another fit.

Klaus had spent the last few years employed at a publishing house, and was putting in extra hours in order to try and increase his probability of gaining a promotion. It had been the perfect way for Klaus to combine his love of reading and a career. Their parents' had provided them with enough money to not be in need of a steady living, but Klaus enjoyed keeping himself busy. His sister had decided to instead continue with her passion for inventions, some of which she would present at conferences or sell to interested consumers.

On his desk lay a pile of books that he was planning to take home to read, as well the few personal items that he had brought into his office over the years. He scanned the items, his gaze finally resting on a recent photograph. As he picked it up off the surface of the desk, he ran his fingers over the mahogany picture frame, gazing at the occupants of the photograph, all of whom were smiling as they enjoyed their outing at the city park. His sister Violet had her arm around her fiancée Quigley with their sides turned to the camera while they looked enchanted at the marvelous sunset. Duncan was seated close to them while he scribbled away into his black notebook, while thirteen-year old Sunny was in her usual hyperactive mood, looking almost like a blur as she was jumping around in pure glee. He had taken the picture.

His eyes became moist as he thought of the one person that was missing from the photo. The only person he wanted to be in the photo. The one person who had been painfully absent from all of their group photographs for the last four years.

Isadora Quagmire…

He had been willing himself for the last four years not to think of her. As hard as he tried, he couldn't seem to get her out of the mind. He hadn't seen her in four years, but the pain of her absence was still as strong as then as it was at the present. He knew that it would never be possibly for him to completely get her out of his mind. Whenever he closed his eyes, he could see her face and her long, flowing hair. The almond shape of her honey-brown eyes. The contours of her body, and the feeling of her skin against his. He could still hear her soft, caring voice and the smile that she reserved especially for him. Whenever someone made a joke, he still expected to hear her giddy laughter, which he often teased her about, but secretly loved. The way her eyes would twinkle whenever she thought of some sort of joke she could play on her brothers…

"No," he stopped himself. He had to get Isadora out of his head – all he was doing was torturing himself. Whenever his mind drifted off to thoughts of Isadora Quagmire, he would often need to retreat inside himself, often with a poetry book. All poetry reminded him of her. But Isadora was gone now, and it was time for him to move on.

But it was no use. No matter how hard he tried to forget, memories of that fearful day came rushing back to his mind. Memories he wished he could forget. Memories he wished would just go away. But they stayed in his mind, coming back to haunt him. They were like a constant disease at the back of his mind, which he would not be able to rid himself for the rest of his life.


"Please don't go," begged Klaus, as Isadora began to lift herself off the couch on which she and her boyfriend had been busying themselves on. At this point in their relationship, they had been dating for almost five years. And throughout these five years, they had somehow managed to keep their relationship a secret from their siblings, a feat which both of them were strangely proud of.

"I'm sorry, Klaus, but I really have to go," she told him, looking once again at her watch. As she began to pull away, Klaus pulled her back down, bringing her into a long kiss. She started to pull away again, forcing herself to show some self-restraint. "As much as I'm enjoying this, I really have to go. I'm already late for my meeting."

"You can skip the meeting," he said desperately.

Isadora laughed. "I can't do that. I'll get fired."

"Who needs a job nowadays?"

"It's cute that you want me to stay so much, but I still need to leave."

"Please stay," he muttered as she began to put on her coat. "Don't go."

"I'm sorry, honey." She leaned over and placed a kiss on his lips. "I really need to go. I'll be back tonight, I promise."

"I'm holding you to it." He sighed. "Well, your brothers are coming over son, and I don't think they'd be pleased to find you here anyways."

Isadora smiled. "Considering they almost tackled that guy at Starbucks for flirting with me, I don't think you'd quite live through their reaction if they found me half-dressed in your apartment."

Klaus smirked. The Quagmire brothers had always been oddly protective of their sister. Since Isadora and Klaus had been secretly dating for such a long time, Klaus had never gotten the chance to see the tribulations that one of Isadora's boyfriends would go through if she were to introduce him to them.

"I was thinking," he started. "About our relationship."

Isadora paused. "Is this some kind of ploy to get me to stay longer? Really, Klaus, you're better than that."

He shook his head. "Izzie, have you realized that we've been dating for almost five years, and yet no one knows? Violet, your brothers…I mean, if we want this relationship to move forward at all, we're going to have to tell them eventually."

She raised an eyebrow in his direction. "Moving forward? Who said anything about moving forward?"

"Weren't you saying that you were already late?" he said, quickly changing the subject.

"Fine, I'll pretend you didn't say anything. But I agree that we should definitely save this conversation for later."

"Fine," he said. "But it'd better be soon. Have a good time at your meeting."

After giving him a peck on the cheek, Isadora had raced out of his apartment, leaving Klaus alone for the rest of the day. Klaus had replayed the morning in his mind over and over again, cursing himself for having let her leave that day. If he had managed to keep her from going to work, or if he had simply accompanied her to work, or taken her out to lunch, he might have prevented the events that followed.

Duncan and Quigley had showed up later on in the morning to visit; he had previously been living with them, his sisters and Isadora at the new home that Violet had bought for them years before. However, he had decided to move out in order to obtain more privacy – the privacy was intended for him and Isadora, but they had kept that information to themselves.

Klaus had the day off, and had remained at home for the rest of the evening, deciding to read some manuscripts that his boss had passed along to him. His reading was interrupted, however, when he received a phone call at around five o'clock in the evening.

"Hello?" he answered.

"Oh, Klaus, thank God you're home!" he was greeted by his sister's frantic voice. "Something horrible just happened!"

Klaus knew that something horrible must have happened to produce such a panicked reaction from his sister. His mind raced as pictures and flashes of his loved ones entered his mind. "What is it?"

Violet took a deep breath before continuing. "Isadora's missing. Someone broke into our house and everything's a mess – we have no idea where she is and it looks like she might have been attacked. Please come." Klaus felt the color drain form his face as he let the phone slip through his fingers. He barely heard his sister's voice calling out to him, as he was already half way to his car before she could hang up.


The home that Violet, Sunny, Duncan, Quigley and Isadora shared was around a fifteen minute drive from his apartment, but it took him under five minutes to get there on this particular day. When he arrived at the house, he saw his younger sister seated on the steps, Quigley and Duncan seated on either side of her, each of them with solemn and shocked looks on their faces.

Klaus sped right by the police cars outside of their home, as well as Sunny and the Quagmire brothers – at that moment, all he could think about making his way to her room. To see for his eyes exactly what had happened.

He raced up the stairs, already out of breath by the time he reached her room. Violet was standing at the doorway, and turned around as she heard him coming. She had her arms wrapped around herself as if she was trying to keep herself warm. As he approached her, he heard something he had never heard before. His sister let out a long hollow sob. His sister, the protector of the family, the one who was usually strong in these situations, was actually sobbing. Even if there were no tears, he felt as if his heart were ripped in two.

As he entered his girlfriend's bedroom, he felt a sudden wave of nausea wash over him. It was a disaster – almost everything in sight was torn apart. The living room curtains were shredded to pieces by what looked like a medium-sized dagger. Her leather couch was turned on its side from what looked like an immense struggle between victim and attacker. The wooden hutch which usually contained glass knick-knacks and picture frames was filled with crushed glass from some sort of large crash. Klaus then looked at the bed, and he almost felt himself throw up on the spot – all of her sheets and her bloods were full of blood.

He felt himself fall to his knees, his breathing coming out long and shallow. His vision blurred as his eyes filled up with tears making the scene disappear from view. Just from view, as it was still perfectly sketched in his mind, tormenting him. Even four years later, the image was still etched into his skull. He blinked, letting a few tears fall. Feeling a warm hand grasp his shoulder, he looked upward and saw his sister's expressionless face staring at the room. Her face was extremely pale and her eyes were widened as if in permanent shock.

"I got home a little over a half hour ago, and I found this. She told me she was finishing work early today, so it's possible that the room has been this way for a couple of hours. The police are going to come inside soon and inspect everything to see if there are any clues as to who did to her." She paused, and stared hard at her brother. "It's going to be okay," she said, her voice trembling slightly. "We're going to find her. She's going to be okay."

"How do you know that?" he croaked. "How can you say everything's going to be okay, when you know it's not?"

He couldn't take it anymore. Even when that horrible fire had destroyed the Baudelaire home all those years ago, everyone, especially Violet, had told him that everything was going to okay; that everything was going to work out. He knew from experienced that this wasn't true – that being a Baudelaire or a Quagmire meant that nothing got better; it always got worse.

He saw Violet's lips tremble. She was trying her best not to cry. "Because I can't give up on her, Klaus. I need to have hope that she's going to come back."

Klaus felt his heart bat wildly against his chest. He tried to stand up and steady himself, but that quickly turned out to be a great mistake. The room started to spin and then fade – all that was left of his vision was a faint outline. The street noises started to disappear, and he could only just merely make out his sister calling out to him terrifyingly as he fell to the floor, nearly lifeless.

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