On to the next part, this is going to be somewhat "stream-of-conscious" and somewhat "WTF?" Because that's how I roll.

Be sure to drop a review for the drunnies, they're working very hard on the third chapter.


"I realize that I live on the bubble of insanity. I feel the weight of human suffering, loneliness and despair on me all the time. It's not getting easier; if anything, it's always right on the edge of my skin."

~Erwin McManus


The stones captured chill in a way that made Rhea nauseous.

Reminded her of freezing winds biting at her toes and fingers, and burning to her core. A cold that ate at her, paralyzed her into an icy statue that with a single word shattered into a million pieces.

She wondered if Chilton knew this; if he was using this.

Will knew it.

When she woke up one afternoon with the word, "Gheaţă" on her lips he asked what about the cold made her so afraid. Surprisingly, she answered.

"You can't change. It freezes you into something and you're finished. You can't change something when you're stuck. I'm scared that one day, I'll wake up and find that I've been frozen and this person is who I'm always going to be. That I won't be able to escape."

Rhea answered, but not really.


When Rhea wakes up, starting, breaths coming out in harsh savage gasps, Will starts talking about Winston. This has been a routine of theirs. One of them will wake up, part of them still stuck in a nightmare, and the other will begin talking. It's about trivial, meaningless things, but its an anchor. A beacon they can latch onto and follow until their feet are on ground as solid as their mental state. Most of the time its Will speaking. It didn't take him long to realize that somewhere between discovering she was different and it becoming her sin, Rhea broke in a way people aren't meant to.

She drowns everything out, his voice surrounding her and soothing the harsh edges of panic that never seem to fade now.

"I'm afraid," she whispers. Her voice catches and a tear slides down her cheek. "I'm afraid that they're right. That my whole life I've been living a lie and I will never accept it because if I did, what would that mean of me? I've been running my whole life, but what if I've been running from myself? I'm terrified."

Will is silent. It's something that Rhea admires and appreciates about the man. He will never answer her questions right away. He takes the time to think and muse until he's found an answer that is as honest and introspective as it can be.

"Do you really think that what you're running from is yourself?"

"I don't know," Rhea whispers. And that's it. That's what terrifies her. She doesn't really know what she's running from, what she's so afraid of. All she knows is that this fear, this panic, is all she has and without it she'll fly away in the wind, dust to cover the earth.

"Then why are you so afraid of yourself?" Will asks. His voice is calm, but there's a tremor in there that reveals he isn't just talking about her. Maybe he's talking to himself too.

There's not much Rhea can do, but she gives the truth. At least a piece of it.

"I'm running.

Legs pumping as I flee the thing chasing me, attempting to strike me down. Around me the trees reach up in ethereal splendor. The forest would be idyllic, even peaceful if it wasn't for the full-blown terror coursing through my veins.

To my right is someone else. A man. Pushing himself as hard and as fast as I am. I don't think either of us knows what we're running from, just that if we slow down, for even a second, everything is over.

So we run.

Trees blurring, vines grabbing. If we trip we push ourselves up and just run harder. We can't fall behind. We can't stop. We can't be caught.

Finally, we hear it. The roaring sound that means a waterfall is up ahead. For the first time, hope is kindled.

We push forward harder, faster.

There!

Up ahead a river flows into a waterfall that I can never see the bottom of. If there are rocks, or the pool below is shallow, I don't know. I can't care. This is the only way to escape. I must jump.

I turn to see my companion, but his face is always blurry. I don't know him, but I know he understands what I do.

We must run. We must jump. We must survive.

We reach the water, and our legs tense. We jump.

This is always where I wake up. Right before I take that final leap, or just before I hit the water.

If I survive, I don't know.

What I'm running from, I don't know.

Who runs beside me, I don't know.

All I do know, is that every time I wake up, that fear doesn't leave.

Because what I'm running from, isn't just in my dreams."

If Rhea is crying and Will's jaw is locked neither of them say it. There's too much they could admit to and not enough to heal it.


Chilton wanted Will to break Rhea. Or at least chip away at enough of her that when he bore into her with predatory eyes, waiting to lap up her brokenness for his own advancement, she would shatter. He should have been prepared for Will to strengthen her. Give her a strength in her core that spread throughout her body. Made her angry. Made her powerful.

Instead of breaking her, Will believed in her. He gave her a trust that no one else ever did, and that made her untouchable.

When Chilton was done with her she went back to her cell feeling beaten and bloody.

Will probed quietly, ensuring that whatever that thoughtless doctor tried to make her believe was brushed off.

Not long ago, the words would have dug into her skin, burying themselves in her flesh and worming their way into her mind. Her body. Her soul. Her eyes would be imprinted with the fear that what was right was wrong and that her truths were reality's lies.

Will Graham came like a violent wind. Ripped the lies from her lungs and horror from her blood. The gale settled and Rhea still stood. Glowing, bright, unbreakable.

She wasn't certain if Will knew what he had done. That when Rhea woke each day that cloying, nauseating fear was becoming less and less.

Chilton tried to destroy her, and Will eventually preserved her.

And Rhea still stood.

Even bloody, even bent, even beaten, she stood.

And she was surviving.