Most of Chapter Twenty
Nov. 12th, 2011 02:44 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
brightrosefoxReally mostly just because I felt like posting something, and sort of because I wouldn't mind some constructive criticism.
In her new office, Tori folded her arms, settled deeper into her chair, and looked long and hard at Alex and Kara.
“I'm not Alistar,” she said. “I don't know if I'm taking over for him. They haven't told me anything yet. But I can say that you made the best choice, bringing Ian here.”
She frowned at Kara. “And I wish you'd let them admit you. They could at least do something about the bruises under your eyes. And the fatigue.”
Kara blinked slowly. “I'm fine,” she said in a dull voice. “I'll recover.”
“You're stubborn,” Tori said. “You'll pass out.”
Alex sighed and put his hand on Kara's shoulder. “Honey. Seriously. This is the third time you've said you're fine. You're not. Would you at least lie down?”
She looked at him, and he realized her lower lip was quivering. “Will you lie down with me?”
Oh, Alex thought, she looks so vulnerable. “Absolutely.” He smiled. “I'm sure Tori can give us a nice quiet room all to ourselves.”
“Third floor,” Tori said with a smile. “Private rooms. I'll program one of them for you and get you key cards.”
Kara appeared to be processing this. After a moment, she nodded, deflated. “Thank you,” she whispered.
Alex helped her up. They followed Tori out.
Dana lay curled on the ground, clutching her head. “I hate you,” she sobbed. “You monster.”
“Oh, stop,” Jeremy said. “You know he's alive. I need him alive, anyway.”
Taking a deep breath, Dana gritted her teeth, stood up, and stared at him.
Smiling, Jeremy held out his hand. “Hungry? I can make eggs. And bacon. It's classic.”
She stared.
“Oh, for fuck's sake, Dana, don't do that. Your physical body needs food. Don't make me force-feed you. Look, I won't eat with you. Even better, you can watch me make the food. I won't poison you, I promise.”
Dana closed her eyes. She was hungry. She couldn't deny that. “Okay,” she said. “Eggs and bacon.”
Jeremy clapped his hands. “Great. Come inside. I'll make you a nice little feast.”
She looked around at the emptiness of the astral plane, then at the building that used to be a psychiatric hospital. It looked as though it had stood for years. It looked real. Everything looked terrifyingly real. She took a few steps toward the building. She heard Jeremy walking behind her.
“You know,” Jeremy said, “we don't have to walk.”
He touched her shoulder. She blinked. They were inside the building, on the first floor. She looked behind her at the glass doors. She turned back and shivered.
Dana looked at a hallway lined in red carpeting, at doors painted bronze, and felt her mind begin to crack.
The worst thing about being dead was the cold. The dark was not so bad. The cold, however, was in every part of him. The cold radiated from him. The cold was a violent beast gnawing at his bones.
“Hey,” he called. “Is this really death?”
Who told you it is death? someone asked.
He paused. “I... nobody. I just thought... I mean, I broke my neck! Didn't I?”
I believe the term is, hmm, simple wedge compression fracture without posterior disruption.
Ian blinked. “All right, so it's not that literal. But still. It could have killed me.”
It did not.
“Oh.” Ian nodded. Nodding didn't hurt. “That's good, then. I'm not in my body, am I?”
No.
“Am I dreaming?”
No.
“Who are you?”
I am you. There was a shifting in front of him, something massive moving and becoming a separate darkness. Ian automatically stepped back, and kept moving backwards until two golden orbs bigger than his head rested several feet in front of him.
The orbs winked out, then returned.
Ian stared. “Oh,” he said. “Hi.”
His mouth was dry.
Should I retreat further?
“Maybe I little? Your eyes look huge, you know.”
Then I will become small, so we may talk.
Ian took a very deep breath. “Sounds great. Thanks.”
It felt like a dream, then. Ian watched the darkness coalesce, spin, shift, shrink, and mold into a familiar shape. It continued to shrink. When it stopped, the creature was the size of a large horse.
“That's... small,” Ian said. “Thanks.”
The Dragon stretched its neck out, and instinctively Ian put out his hand and touched its nose.
That feels nice.
Ian closed his eyes, feeling a powerful warmth starting in his head. His nose, in fact. “Yes,” he said, “it does feel nice.”
I will help you, the Dragon said, but I can only reach so far.
“I understand,” Ian said.
The Dragon blinked. Do you? It would seem you have been misled.
Ian stiffened. “What do you mean?”
You assumed that you hosted our full powers.
“Well, yes,” Ian said. “That's... wait, that's not true?”
No.
Ian felt cold. He backed away, taking deep breaths. “All right. All right. What is true?”
No human is meant to host us in full. That would be fatal. And stupid.
Ian felt his mouth quirk. “I guess it would be.”
Do you understand? the Dragon asked. You only contain a very small part of me.
Ian sighed. “I guess I understand.”
You are disappointed? The Dragon sounded very surprised. You did not hear what I said? Hosting in full is fatal!
Ian blinked a few times. “No, I mean… I get it. But it's not what my brother and I were told. It's not what Kara and Dana were told.”
You told them yourselves. The bright eyes blinked.
“Yeah, but…” Ian bit his lip. “Okay. You're right. But disappointment is a classic human reaction to this sort of thing.”
I can see that.
“I'll get over it, I promise,” Ian said dryly. “Now, what were we talking about earlier?”
My help, the Dragon reminded him.
“Right. So what will you do?”
I can help you heal more quickly. The Dragon pushed its nose toward him, and he touched it. I can try to help you find the Phoenix. You must understand that we are limited. We are not gods, but even gods are limited.
Ian swallowed. “I know.”
If we were to come to you completely, you and perhaps all you know would die.
Ian closed his eyes. “Right.”
But I will do what I can here and now.
Ian started to say, “Okay,” but his voice was drowned out by the rush of heat that started in his throat and flooded his insides. He was drowning, he was drowning in a fire that felt like an ocean. His head hurt, his neck hurt, his whole back was throbbing and aching and his limbs were being sliced open and filled with fire. He wondered if he was screaming out loud. He wondered if this would kill him.
Jeremy took one of the dining table's chairs and dragged it to the window. He sat and watched the false landscapes move and blow. Behind him came the sounds of silverware scraping against a plate. He sighed in relief.
How long do you really think you can stay here? asked the Shadow.
“Long enough,” Jeremy mumbled. “We'll leave soon. I just need… you know, saturation point. For her.”
You make no sense.
“I know. I…” He propped his elbows on the windowsill, rested his head in his hands. “I'm losing things. I… I mean, she needs to have her power… to make it work…”
A chair scraped the floor. He turned around. Dana was standing and staring at her empty plate with the empty glass beside it.
“It really wasn't poisoned, I promise,” Jeremy said.
She nodded. “I believe you. I'm just tired.”
He frowned. She was starting to glow, subtly. She didn't seem to realize.
I think you should know something, the Shadow said.
He shook his head, pressed his finger to his lips. He walked to her and touched her shoulder. “You can sleep if you want. There's no time here.”
She looked at him. There were already dark circles under her eyes. She looked on the verge of collapse.
“I don't understand you,” she whispered. The glow under her skin flared, and her eyes rolled back. He caught her as she crumpled.
You really do need to know this, the Shadow insisted.
“Will you shut up? I'm busy!”
He carried Dana to the bedroom he had made for her and tried to make her as comfortable as possible on the bed. He didn't like how pale she was.
Jeremy!
“WHAT? What the hell do you want?” He spun away from the bed and grabbed his head.
You've been hoping her powers would sustain her here. You were hoping yours would sustain you. They will not. You will both die if you stay here much longer.
“Wait, what?”
There was a long pause. We are… not complete, the Shadow said. You and Dana – and the other three – only have portions of these powers. No mortal human is meant to host our incarnations fully.
Jeremy stood very still, staring at the wall. A muscle in his jaw twitched. “So, you lied.”
Omitted.
“So, being in the astral plane. Is that why she's glowing?”
It's parts of her soul leaking out. It's happening to you, too.
Jeremy looked down at himself. All he could see was blackness. He raised an eyebrow, then smiled.
Your spiritual essences are wearing through your physical forms. If you stay, it will get worse. It will be more difficult for you and me to be together like this.
Jeremy nodded. “That would suck, wouldn't it? I wouldn't be able to reshape everything anymore. Right. Okay. Leaving is good.”
He bent over the bed and kissed Dana's forehead. “Nothing here is real anyway,” he said. “Only we are real.”
He straightened, taking a deep breath. He reached out and pulled the world apart. He put both hands on Dana's shoulders and shut his eyes. There was a sound like a tornado, ripping through his head. Pain screamed through every nerve in his body.
Nobody ever said having this much power was easy.
I can't say I'm sorry for everything I've done. I just want the world to change. I just want things to go my way. I'm not evil. I'm not a bad person. Things just need to change. I will make things change.
When he opened his eyes, the room had changed. Pulled apart, smelling of old destruction. The building had been abandoned for so many years, but that smell never faded. Oh, he thought, the astral version was so much nicer.
Dana stirred, but didn't wake up. Jeremy looked at her and sighed.
“I never meant to hurt you, you know,” he said. “I'm lonely. Trying to remake reality gets hard when you don't have supportive friends.”
He sat heavily on the edge of the bed. “I think I'm doing this wrong. I just don't know how. I don't suppose you could help me figure it out?”
Her skin looked dull, her eyelids dark, capillaries broken around her nose, a bruised look under her eyes.
“I'm really sorry, you know. I'm not… I mean, I don't want to be… you know, a rapist or a misogynist. I just… you should know. I spent most of my life being alone and crazy. I don't know what to do with people. I'm broken. But I'm going to fix myself. And all I want to do is fix the world to be like me. That's not wrong, is it? Equal opportunity destruction.” He shook his head, laughing dryly. “I think I'm going to get a beer. Or a shot. You want some whiskey?” He looked up and tapped the side of his head. “Hey, Shadow, how about you? Do you want a shot?”
Wrong kind of shot, came the reply.
“Right, right. Yeah.” Jeremy stood up and winced. “Oh, listen to that. My knees are cracking. That's ridiculous. Stop that, body.”
His legs flooded with warmth and energy. Grinning, he kicked and stomped a few times. “There! Much better.”
You're taking this for granted, you know.
“Nah.”
Yes.
He ignored that.
One day, I will leave you, and you won't be so… god-like. The Shadow stirred, and his head filled with presence. This isn't permanent. This is until we get what we want.
“And I keep telling you, you're no fun,” Jeremy sighed. “Look, we'll get there. Relax. We will get what we want in the end.”
The Shadow fell silent. Jeremy rolled his eyes and stretched.
“We'll get there,” he whispered to the walls. “We almost have everything.”
Ian struggled to move. His eyelids were too heavy. Everything was too heavy. He drew in a deep breath, which hurt, and made a fist, which ached.
“Hey, I think he's waking up.” That was Alex.
Alex, Ian thought as hard as he could. Can you hear me?
“Yes. Ow. You don't have to yell. Can you move?”
I'm trying. I feel heavy. Am I drugged?
“Yeah, they have you on a cocktail. IV drip. It's in your right arm.”
“Alex? Is he awake?” That was Kara.
“Hi, Kara. Sort of. He's thinking at me. Ian, think more quietly. I'm sitting right here.”
Thinking was beginning to hurt, but there was a sudden rush of coolness, and then nothing hurt. Heeey… the drugs just kicked in. Neat.
“Oh, I heard that!” Kara sounded like she was smiling. Ian felt her take his left hand in hers. “Ian, can you feel my hand?”
I can feel it. Squeeze for me?
“I'm supposed to ask you that!” She squeezed, and it felt good. He tried to squeeze back. The muscles in his hand twitched.
Why the hell am I so weak? Shouldn't I be healed already? Wait. How long was I out? I'm in a hospital, right?
Kara cleared her throat. “Because you fractured your neck and your collarbone and haven't moved much, no you shouldn't, six weeks, yes.”
Ian paused. Oh. Uh… Oh.
“Try to open your eyes.”
He was so tired. He felt his eyelids flutter. There was light. He opened his eyes halfway. Kara and Alex were bent over him, staring. He opened his mouth, slowly licked his lips, and whispered, “Wait, how many weeks?”
Kara and Alex glanced at each other.
“What… what about Dana?” It was hard to talk, but the painkillers were helping.
There was an uncomfortable silence. He thought about metaphors for uncomfortable silences. The air actually did feel thick and tense. He felt good. Those painkillers were amazing. His head throbbed slightly, though, and the tension was bothersome. Where was Dana?
“Six weeks,” he whispered. “Six… weeks. Right. When is Dana getting here?”
Alex exhaled sharply. “She's… she's not, Ian. She's not here. She's not anywhere.”
Ian stared at him. “I'm sorry, these drugs are making me hear funny things. Did you say she's not anywhere?”
“I did say that, yes.”
Ian took a few deep breaths and swallowed. “Can I get some water?”
Kara moved out of his line of sight. After a few seconds, he heard water pouring, and then a few seconds later she was holding a straw to his lips. He sipped and swallowed slowly. The water was cool and crisp and soothing.
“Where is Dana?” he asked. “With Jeremy?”
“We think so,” Alex said. “He's been shielding so well that we can't even figure out which direction they went. We're pretty sure they're still in the physical plane.”
“I have to find her.” Ian tried to move a body part, any body part. It all hurt.
“Not like this, “said Kara, “and not right now. She’s beyond reach. Although she can probably handle Jeremy on her own.”
“Probably,” Ian echoed softly. “She’s made of fire.”
Kara glanced at Alex. “He should probably go back to sleep. He’s making less sense.”
“I dunno,” Alex said. “Seemed straightforward to me.”
“Firebirds,” Ian mumbled, eyes fluttering. “So pretty.”
“We should let him rest,” Kara said.
Alex sighed, and leaned over his twin. “We’re going home, okay? We’ll be back soon.”
Ian was already drifting. “Just like sunshine….”
“Come on.” Kara put her arms around Alex and they headed out the door.
Dana had begun to feel as though her entire life had been a collection of illusions and delusions. Right now, everything she experienced wavered in and out of existence. She wondered if it was happening to her, too. There was always food, and clothes, and a clean bed, but she was no longer able to tell if it was real. The food eased her hunger and filled her. The clothes were soft and comfortable and always fit well. The bed was not too firm, not too soft.
She knew Jeremy could read her mind whenever he wanted. However, lately it seemed he was having more and more trouble with that. Shields on her part, maybe? Or was his mind starting to fragment even more? Sometimes he argued with himself for hours, sitting in a corner by a window, scratching his face and arms until he bled.
She tried to feel sorry for him. She just felt empty. Sometimes she felt sad. It probably wasn’t all his fault. But he wouldn’t let her go, and he wouldn’t help her beyond what he wanted.
She wished she could remember their childhood at the orphanage together. Blankness and walls, until that time he tried to hurt her.
A couple of days ago (Weeks? Time made no sense here) she woke up feeling sick and strange, and Jeremy had been there with food and water and medication. She had no idea where he had gotten it all. He kept apologizing, but his words made no sense. “I didn’t meant to be this awful,” he kept saying. “You have to believe me. I’m so sorry. I just need you to help me. Please.”
Some time later, hours or days, he lashed out, rage darkening the air around him, threats tumbling from his mouth. He wanted power, he needed power, he needed her most of all. None of it made sense. He would cry for a while, then yell at her to leave him alone. All she could do was go back to her bedroom and wait. There was no entertainment in her room. No ebook readers, no tablets, no video. Just the window, which looked out upon a forest. She didn’t even know if the forest was real.
A memory of a dream kept passing through the back of her mind. The smells of air, earth, fire, and water. Every time she looked out at that forest, the memory grew stronger. But she didn’t seem to dream when she slept.
In her new office, Tori folded her arms, settled deeper into her chair, and looked long and hard at Alex and Kara.
“I'm not Alistar,” she said. “I don't know if I'm taking over for him. They haven't told me anything yet. But I can say that you made the best choice, bringing Ian here.”
She frowned at Kara. “And I wish you'd let them admit you. They could at least do something about the bruises under your eyes. And the fatigue.”
Kara blinked slowly. “I'm fine,” she said in a dull voice. “I'll recover.”
“You're stubborn,” Tori said. “You'll pass out.”
Alex sighed and put his hand on Kara's shoulder. “Honey. Seriously. This is the third time you've said you're fine. You're not. Would you at least lie down?”
She looked at him, and he realized her lower lip was quivering. “Will you lie down with me?”
Oh, Alex thought, she looks so vulnerable. “Absolutely.” He smiled. “I'm sure Tori can give us a nice quiet room all to ourselves.”
“Third floor,” Tori said with a smile. “Private rooms. I'll program one of them for you and get you key cards.”
Kara appeared to be processing this. After a moment, she nodded, deflated. “Thank you,” she whispered.
Alex helped her up. They followed Tori out.
Dana lay curled on the ground, clutching her head. “I hate you,” she sobbed. “You monster.”
“Oh, stop,” Jeremy said. “You know he's alive. I need him alive, anyway.”
Taking a deep breath, Dana gritted her teeth, stood up, and stared at him.
Smiling, Jeremy held out his hand. “Hungry? I can make eggs. And bacon. It's classic.”
She stared.
“Oh, for fuck's sake, Dana, don't do that. Your physical body needs food. Don't make me force-feed you. Look, I won't eat with you. Even better, you can watch me make the food. I won't poison you, I promise.”
Dana closed her eyes. She was hungry. She couldn't deny that. “Okay,” she said. “Eggs and bacon.”
Jeremy clapped his hands. “Great. Come inside. I'll make you a nice little feast.”
She looked around at the emptiness of the astral plane, then at the building that used to be a psychiatric hospital. It looked as though it had stood for years. It looked real. Everything looked terrifyingly real. She took a few steps toward the building. She heard Jeremy walking behind her.
“You know,” Jeremy said, “we don't have to walk.”
He touched her shoulder. She blinked. They were inside the building, on the first floor. She looked behind her at the glass doors. She turned back and shivered.
Dana looked at a hallway lined in red carpeting, at doors painted bronze, and felt her mind begin to crack.
The worst thing about being dead was the cold. The dark was not so bad. The cold, however, was in every part of him. The cold radiated from him. The cold was a violent beast gnawing at his bones.
“Hey,” he called. “Is this really death?”
Who told you it is death? someone asked.
He paused. “I... nobody. I just thought... I mean, I broke my neck! Didn't I?”
I believe the term is, hmm, simple wedge compression fracture without posterior disruption.
Ian blinked. “All right, so it's not that literal. But still. It could have killed me.”
It did not.
“Oh.” Ian nodded. Nodding didn't hurt. “That's good, then. I'm not in my body, am I?”
No.
“Am I dreaming?”
No.
“Who are you?”
I am you. There was a shifting in front of him, something massive moving and becoming a separate darkness. Ian automatically stepped back, and kept moving backwards until two golden orbs bigger than his head rested several feet in front of him.
The orbs winked out, then returned.
Ian stared. “Oh,” he said. “Hi.”
His mouth was dry.
Should I retreat further?
“Maybe I little? Your eyes look huge, you know.”
Then I will become small, so we may talk.
Ian took a very deep breath. “Sounds great. Thanks.”
It felt like a dream, then. Ian watched the darkness coalesce, spin, shift, shrink, and mold into a familiar shape. It continued to shrink. When it stopped, the creature was the size of a large horse.
“That's... small,” Ian said. “Thanks.”
The Dragon stretched its neck out, and instinctively Ian put out his hand and touched its nose.
That feels nice.
Ian closed his eyes, feeling a powerful warmth starting in his head. His nose, in fact. “Yes,” he said, “it does feel nice.”
I will help you, the Dragon said, but I can only reach so far.
“I understand,” Ian said.
The Dragon blinked. Do you? It would seem you have been misled.
Ian stiffened. “What do you mean?”
You assumed that you hosted our full powers.
“Well, yes,” Ian said. “That's... wait, that's not true?”
No.
Ian felt cold. He backed away, taking deep breaths. “All right. All right. What is true?”
No human is meant to host us in full. That would be fatal. And stupid.
Ian felt his mouth quirk. “I guess it would be.”
Do you understand? the Dragon asked. You only contain a very small part of me.
Ian sighed. “I guess I understand.”
You are disappointed? The Dragon sounded very surprised. You did not hear what I said? Hosting in full is fatal!
Ian blinked a few times. “No, I mean… I get it. But it's not what my brother and I were told. It's not what Kara and Dana were told.”
You told them yourselves. The bright eyes blinked.
“Yeah, but…” Ian bit his lip. “Okay. You're right. But disappointment is a classic human reaction to this sort of thing.”
I can see that.
“I'll get over it, I promise,” Ian said dryly. “Now, what were we talking about earlier?”
My help, the Dragon reminded him.
“Right. So what will you do?”
I can help you heal more quickly. The Dragon pushed its nose toward him, and he touched it. I can try to help you find the Phoenix. You must understand that we are limited. We are not gods, but even gods are limited.
Ian swallowed. “I know.”
If we were to come to you completely, you and perhaps all you know would die.
Ian closed his eyes. “Right.”
But I will do what I can here and now.
Ian started to say, “Okay,” but his voice was drowned out by the rush of heat that started in his throat and flooded his insides. He was drowning, he was drowning in a fire that felt like an ocean. His head hurt, his neck hurt, his whole back was throbbing and aching and his limbs were being sliced open and filled with fire. He wondered if he was screaming out loud. He wondered if this would kill him.
Jeremy took one of the dining table's chairs and dragged it to the window. He sat and watched the false landscapes move and blow. Behind him came the sounds of silverware scraping against a plate. He sighed in relief.
How long do you really think you can stay here? asked the Shadow.
“Long enough,” Jeremy mumbled. “We'll leave soon. I just need… you know, saturation point. For her.”
You make no sense.
“I know. I…” He propped his elbows on the windowsill, rested his head in his hands. “I'm losing things. I… I mean, she needs to have her power… to make it work…”
A chair scraped the floor. He turned around. Dana was standing and staring at her empty plate with the empty glass beside it.
“It really wasn't poisoned, I promise,” Jeremy said.
She nodded. “I believe you. I'm just tired.”
He frowned. She was starting to glow, subtly. She didn't seem to realize.
I think you should know something, the Shadow said.
He shook his head, pressed his finger to his lips. He walked to her and touched her shoulder. “You can sleep if you want. There's no time here.”
She looked at him. There were already dark circles under her eyes. She looked on the verge of collapse.
“I don't understand you,” she whispered. The glow under her skin flared, and her eyes rolled back. He caught her as she crumpled.
You really do need to know this, the Shadow insisted.
“Will you shut up? I'm busy!”
He carried Dana to the bedroom he had made for her and tried to make her as comfortable as possible on the bed. He didn't like how pale she was.
Jeremy!
“WHAT? What the hell do you want?” He spun away from the bed and grabbed his head.
You've been hoping her powers would sustain her here. You were hoping yours would sustain you. They will not. You will both die if you stay here much longer.
“Wait, what?”
There was a long pause. We are… not complete, the Shadow said. You and Dana – and the other three – only have portions of these powers. No mortal human is meant to host our incarnations fully.
Jeremy stood very still, staring at the wall. A muscle in his jaw twitched. “So, you lied.”
Omitted.
“So, being in the astral plane. Is that why she's glowing?”
It's parts of her soul leaking out. It's happening to you, too.
Jeremy looked down at himself. All he could see was blackness. He raised an eyebrow, then smiled.
Your spiritual essences are wearing through your physical forms. If you stay, it will get worse. It will be more difficult for you and me to be together like this.
Jeremy nodded. “That would suck, wouldn't it? I wouldn't be able to reshape everything anymore. Right. Okay. Leaving is good.”
He bent over the bed and kissed Dana's forehead. “Nothing here is real anyway,” he said. “Only we are real.”
He straightened, taking a deep breath. He reached out and pulled the world apart. He put both hands on Dana's shoulders and shut his eyes. There was a sound like a tornado, ripping through his head. Pain screamed through every nerve in his body.
Nobody ever said having this much power was easy.
I can't say I'm sorry for everything I've done. I just want the world to change. I just want things to go my way. I'm not evil. I'm not a bad person. Things just need to change. I will make things change.
When he opened his eyes, the room had changed. Pulled apart, smelling of old destruction. The building had been abandoned for so many years, but that smell never faded. Oh, he thought, the astral version was so much nicer.
Dana stirred, but didn't wake up. Jeremy looked at her and sighed.
“I never meant to hurt you, you know,” he said. “I'm lonely. Trying to remake reality gets hard when you don't have supportive friends.”
He sat heavily on the edge of the bed. “I think I'm doing this wrong. I just don't know how. I don't suppose you could help me figure it out?”
Her skin looked dull, her eyelids dark, capillaries broken around her nose, a bruised look under her eyes.
“I'm really sorry, you know. I'm not… I mean, I don't want to be… you know, a rapist or a misogynist. I just… you should know. I spent most of my life being alone and crazy. I don't know what to do with people. I'm broken. But I'm going to fix myself. And all I want to do is fix the world to be like me. That's not wrong, is it? Equal opportunity destruction.” He shook his head, laughing dryly. “I think I'm going to get a beer. Or a shot. You want some whiskey?” He looked up and tapped the side of his head. “Hey, Shadow, how about you? Do you want a shot?”
Wrong kind of shot, came the reply.
“Right, right. Yeah.” Jeremy stood up and winced. “Oh, listen to that. My knees are cracking. That's ridiculous. Stop that, body.”
His legs flooded with warmth and energy. Grinning, he kicked and stomped a few times. “There! Much better.”
You're taking this for granted, you know.
“Nah.”
Yes.
He ignored that.
One day, I will leave you, and you won't be so… god-like. The Shadow stirred, and his head filled with presence. This isn't permanent. This is until we get what we want.
“And I keep telling you, you're no fun,” Jeremy sighed. “Look, we'll get there. Relax. We will get what we want in the end.”
The Shadow fell silent. Jeremy rolled his eyes and stretched.
“We'll get there,” he whispered to the walls. “We almost have everything.”
Ian struggled to move. His eyelids were too heavy. Everything was too heavy. He drew in a deep breath, which hurt, and made a fist, which ached.
“Hey, I think he's waking up.” That was Alex.
Alex, Ian thought as hard as he could. Can you hear me?
“Yes. Ow. You don't have to yell. Can you move?”
I'm trying. I feel heavy. Am I drugged?
“Yeah, they have you on a cocktail. IV drip. It's in your right arm.”
“Alex? Is he awake?” That was Kara.
“Hi, Kara. Sort of. He's thinking at me. Ian, think more quietly. I'm sitting right here.”
Thinking was beginning to hurt, but there was a sudden rush of coolness, and then nothing hurt. Heeey… the drugs just kicked in. Neat.
“Oh, I heard that!” Kara sounded like she was smiling. Ian felt her take his left hand in hers. “Ian, can you feel my hand?”
I can feel it. Squeeze for me?
“I'm supposed to ask you that!” She squeezed, and it felt good. He tried to squeeze back. The muscles in his hand twitched.
Why the hell am I so weak? Shouldn't I be healed already? Wait. How long was I out? I'm in a hospital, right?
Kara cleared her throat. “Because you fractured your neck and your collarbone and haven't moved much, no you shouldn't, six weeks, yes.”
Ian paused. Oh. Uh… Oh.
“Try to open your eyes.”
He was so tired. He felt his eyelids flutter. There was light. He opened his eyes halfway. Kara and Alex were bent over him, staring. He opened his mouth, slowly licked his lips, and whispered, “Wait, how many weeks?”
Kara and Alex glanced at each other.
“What… what about Dana?” It was hard to talk, but the painkillers were helping.
There was an uncomfortable silence. He thought about metaphors for uncomfortable silences. The air actually did feel thick and tense. He felt good. Those painkillers were amazing. His head throbbed slightly, though, and the tension was bothersome. Where was Dana?
“Six weeks,” he whispered. “Six… weeks. Right. When is Dana getting here?”
Alex exhaled sharply. “She's… she's not, Ian. She's not here. She's not anywhere.”
Ian stared at him. “I'm sorry, these drugs are making me hear funny things. Did you say she's not anywhere?”
“I did say that, yes.”
Ian took a few deep breaths and swallowed. “Can I get some water?”
Kara moved out of his line of sight. After a few seconds, he heard water pouring, and then a few seconds later she was holding a straw to his lips. He sipped and swallowed slowly. The water was cool and crisp and soothing.
“Where is Dana?” he asked. “With Jeremy?”
“We think so,” Alex said. “He's been shielding so well that we can't even figure out which direction they went. We're pretty sure they're still in the physical plane.”
“I have to find her.” Ian tried to move a body part, any body part. It all hurt.
“Not like this, “said Kara, “and not right now. She’s beyond reach. Although she can probably handle Jeremy on her own.”
“Probably,” Ian echoed softly. “She’s made of fire.”
Kara glanced at Alex. “He should probably go back to sleep. He’s making less sense.”
“I dunno,” Alex said. “Seemed straightforward to me.”
“Firebirds,” Ian mumbled, eyes fluttering. “So pretty.”
“We should let him rest,” Kara said.
Alex sighed, and leaned over his twin. “We’re going home, okay? We’ll be back soon.”
Ian was already drifting. “Just like sunshine….”
“Come on.” Kara put her arms around Alex and they headed out the door.
Dana had begun to feel as though her entire life had been a collection of illusions and delusions. Right now, everything she experienced wavered in and out of existence. She wondered if it was happening to her, too. There was always food, and clothes, and a clean bed, but she was no longer able to tell if it was real. The food eased her hunger and filled her. The clothes were soft and comfortable and always fit well. The bed was not too firm, not too soft.
She knew Jeremy could read her mind whenever he wanted. However, lately it seemed he was having more and more trouble with that. Shields on her part, maybe? Or was his mind starting to fragment even more? Sometimes he argued with himself for hours, sitting in a corner by a window, scratching his face and arms until he bled.
She tried to feel sorry for him. She just felt empty. Sometimes she felt sad. It probably wasn’t all his fault. But he wouldn’t let her go, and he wouldn’t help her beyond what he wanted.
She wished she could remember their childhood at the orphanage together. Blankness and walls, until that time he tried to hurt her.
A couple of days ago (Weeks? Time made no sense here) she woke up feeling sick and strange, and Jeremy had been there with food and water and medication. She had no idea where he had gotten it all. He kept apologizing, but his words made no sense. “I didn’t meant to be this awful,” he kept saying. “You have to believe me. I’m so sorry. I just need you to help me. Please.”
Some time later, hours or days, he lashed out, rage darkening the air around him, threats tumbling from his mouth. He wanted power, he needed power, he needed her most of all. None of it made sense. He would cry for a while, then yell at her to leave him alone. All she could do was go back to her bedroom and wait. There was no entertainment in her room. No ebook readers, no tablets, no video. Just the window, which looked out upon a forest. She didn’t even know if the forest was real.
A memory of a dream kept passing through the back of her mind. The smells of air, earth, fire, and water. Every time she looked out at that forest, the memory grew stronger. But she didn’t seem to dream when she slept.
