I have deep, deep misgivings about this chapter. It has something to do with the fact that I'm not thinking straight. Considering I also don't have a beta, I rely on myself for editing, and ... well, this chapter is most likely full of errors. I'm very sorry that I haven't updated sooner, by the way, but my mind is just... whoa.

U ɴ ƒ o ʀ ɢ ɪ v ᴇ ɴ

Chapter Six: Lost

David sat beside Griffin's unconscious frame, his knees drawn up to his chin and his arms wrapped around his legs. His body was racking with sobs, and he was making no attempt to disguise the volume of his crying. Tears were pouring down his face, and he honestly couldn't help the sniffles which were accompanying them. He hadn't felt this desolate since his mother – Mary – had originally left him and his father. He'd cried for hours and hours after that as well, in the exact same position. His warm, caring, kind, protecting mother had left him.

This time, she'd left him for someone else.

Sophie.

That was what hurt most. Not the fact that she called him an abomination because of something he had no control over; not the fact that she was planning to use him and then kill him. She loved Sophie more than him. That big speech about loving them both equally, about not being able to stand them killing each other … it had been complete BS.

She wanted to kill him.

She loved her daughter more than she loved her abomination of a son.

David's weeping intensified, until he felt as though he might be sick with the force of his grief. Millie was comatose, her mother was dead because of him, and his own mother hated him and had only ever pretended to love him. The last three and a half months had just been pretence. For Sophie. For the Paladins.

He felt a sick rage well up within him, that faded away as he realised that he still couldn't kill them. No matter how angry he was, he would never be able to bring himself to kill either Mary or Sophie. Well, Sophie maybe, but never his mother. Those memories of when he was a five year old were simply too strong to be ignored, and to kill her would be to kill that part of himself forever.

David looked up from his arms to see Griffin, caught somewhere between unconciousness and sleep. He didn't know how he could tell the difference, but he needed to talk to the other more than ever… But there was something else he needed to do first.

He whispered "Please don't leave me," into the air, and then Jumped.

\/\/\/

If he couldn't Jump, would Mary had loved him more? Would she have stayed with him and his father? If he hadn't Jumped, would she ever have left? If she hadn't… So many things would be different. His father wouldn't be an alcoholic, for one. He wouldn't have grown up as an abused kid. He might have been a completely different person; someone who never would've been called Ricebowl, never bullied.

David's mind was reeling as he walked down the hallway of the hospital, following the directions the nurse had given him. He'd hardly even heard her, and he couldn't remember if he'd thanked her or not. He was so caught up with his own problems that he didn't even notice other the other people who he bumped into along the way. Half of his mind was counting turnoffs and following directions, the other half …

Moping. Angsting. Having a whinge. Having a temper tantrum.

But he had a right to do all of those things, didn't he? His mother wanted to kill him, and she loved her other child more than he loved him. Didn't he have a right to mope after his Christmas had been absolutely destroyed?

Karma.

"Shut it, Griffin," he murmured out loud, earning him a few odd looks from the others around him. He didn't care, and took a right turn into the ward where Millie was. Third room on the right…

There!

He walked into the quiet ward, the silence only broken by the electronic beeps. Millie was lying on her own, looking extremely weak and fragile in the hospital bed. Her long dark hair was gone, cut off to make way for the bandages they'd wrapped over half her face and her head. There were more bandages, running up and down her arms, and by the looks of it, there was one on her stomach as well.

He sat down beside her on a chair, pulling closer to the bed and holding her hand. It was neither cool nor warm, neither dry nor damp. It felt as if it was a doll's hand, and lying there, so limp, so still, Millie could have been just that; an oversized doll.

David suddenly felt repulsed, revolted by her, quite sure he would be sick with the force of the feeling. He felt bile rising in his throat and choked on it, just as he'd choked his own emotions before walking into the hospital. Gently laying his head beside her on the bed, he looked at her hand, willing the feeling to go away. It slowly faded, and he began to quietly talk.

"Hey, Mill. It's me. I, uh… I heard that if you talked to someone who was in a coma, they could hear you. I, um. I don't know if that's true, or not, but, I figure it's worth a shot, you know?" he laughed falsely, awkwardly. "Yeah, well. I, um… I'm sorry, Millie. I really am. I didn't know what was going to happen, and I, I'm sorry I didn't stop it. It's my fault. I don't know if you can hear me, Millie, but if you can…" he cleared his throat, and then said without looking at her "I love you."

Was it his imagination, or had her grip tightened on his for a moment?

"I've loved you for fifteen years, and I've never had the guts to say it like that. I've … I'm sorry I didn't tell you before, when it actually meant something. I know I have said it, but, it's always been a kind of throwaway thing. I've never meant it as a commitment, and that's all I want now. It's selfish to say this when my mother has just abandoned me again, but I love you, and I can only hope you'll love me too. Again, I'm sorry Mill."

David felt his eyes sting again, and closed them, willing the tears to go away. Voice trembling slightly, he whispered "I'm sorry. I love you."

And with that, he couldn't bear it anymore. Seeing her, so delicate, so fragile, all on her own…

He couldn't bear it.

He let go of her hand, and Jumped.

\/\/\/

Griffin had only ever cried once out of sorrow. He'd cried in pain before, often, but only once in sorrow. But now, still weakened from his experience in the tower and the haunting madness following at his heels, he bypassed crying and simply … left.

Ever since he was six, he'd unknowingly adopted a defence that allowed him to just switch off from the world. One misplaced punch, one comment that hit too close to home, and his fractured mind would hide from itself within itself. It was a bizarre process, and Griffin hated it, but it did allow him to cope more or less. When he couldn't escape from his problems by Jumping, his mind would quietly disconnect itself from reality and lose itself in memories.

Or, at least, that was how it had used to be.

Even more broken now than he had been before, his thought processes had completely short-circuited. With no memories of his parents, or even the details that made up a normal person's backstory – age, birthday, full name, original home town – there was nowhere to hide. So instead of falling into a peaceful, completely unaware state, he was now locked into a half-lucid frame of mind. It felt almost as though he was daydreaming, unable to escape, his eyes open and his body perfectly still, but unable to exist within either the real world or his pretend one, created from the memories he'd now lost.

If he hadn't been so completely wiped, he might have been furious about this. Once he 'returned', on some level he knew he probably would be, but for now he was just … gone.

Lost.

Swirling, drifting, dizzying thoughts, accompanied by stabs of phantom sensations. He was numb on the outside, but at the same time, every nerve was screamingly aware of what was going on around him. He couldn't feel, and yet he'd never been quite so alive as he was now. He couldn't bring himself to go deeper into his illusion, or to break it. He was trapped in a paradox, and he couldn't get out.

Alone.

No memories; nowhere to hide. No good memories, at least. The ones of Roland were perfectly intact. Roland and David. David's girl, Millie. Fighting the Paladins, winning, losing, Jumping. Jumping and Jumping. America, Australia, China, Korea, Japan, Russia, Scotland, Iceland, Greenland, France, Antarctica, Canada, South America, Indonesia, Cambodia, the Middle East, Mexico, Italy, Africa, India, Germany….

England…

Gone.

Griffin's body curled up, his knees drawing up to his chin and his arms wrapping protectively around his own legs. He rested his chin on his kneecaps, dark eyes glazed over as he started sightlessly ahead. For a moment, with his mask completely gone, he looked extremely vulnerable – and then his expression hardened again, almost reflexively.

Dead…

Griffin faded deeper, almost completely unable to sense the world around him now, but his mind alert and howling.

…

Karma, he'd told David. Karma.

Griffin believed in Karma about as much as he believe in Pastafarianism. "Karma" had just been a senseless lie in an attempt to throw David off track – not that it had worked. David wasn't even supposed to be here right now; he was supposed to be in Ann Arbor, crying pathetically over his comatose girlfriend and her dead mother, blaming himself for everything that had gone wrong.

But no, David had chased him.

Griffin, paranoid, had been expecting it to a certain extent. He'd detoured halfway around the world for that particular purpose, but even then, he'd still been surprised to see the American stumble out of a Jumpscar and grovel at his feet. Then the request to meet him, on equal ground.. It was no wonder Griffin had spat on him; he truly was pathetic. The arrogance and cowardice that had carried David through so many situations weren't supposed to apply anymore.

And yet…

He'd knocked Griffin out, and gone to attend to whatever other business he had, discarding him like an old shoe. Just the way he'd left him in Chechnya; struggling, helpless, dying.

Nineteen days of hell…

David hadn't even apologised for that. He'd just charged blindly in with a false offer of a truce. Once that was denied… and discarded…

Had he even checked on his oh-so-precious girlfriend yet? She whom he'd abandoned in Rome? If there was any relationship that wasn't going to last, it was that one. The same went to the family; what kind of peaceful coexistence could there be between two Paladins, one a virtuoso and one still new to the trade, and a Jumper?

Of course I still love you son; just hold still and let me stab you through the heart. All done! Just another day at the office, my dear daughter. Don't forget to take notes. I love you too.

Love…

Like any Jumper could actually love. There was only thing a Jumper ever did, and that was escape. If not physically, then mentally, much like Griffin was doing now. David hadn't progressed to that stage yet, and he hadn't sustained enough emotional trauma or physical abuse to ever find himself in that stage, but the physical escapism was still there. There would never be a heroic Jumper; they were just people, trying to deal with their own problems. Humans dealt with their own problems; Jumpers dealt with theirs. Simple, easy to remember. Except for the idiots who, while they did escape, decided to draw as much attention to themselves as possible and live like kings.

With family. And people who loved them.

Griffin mentally winced, and his mind splintered, carrying his train of thought down a different track.

Love. Hate. Roland.

If it hadn't been for Roland, none of this would have ever happened. As much as Griffin hated the man, he also respected him. He was an enemy who had proved himself to be just as hard to kill as Griffin himself. Considering Prague…

Splinter.

A ripple of phantom pain circled around Griffin's arm, but in his current state, it was nothing more than a far-away itch that wasn't worth scratching. Instead, he just let his mind go blank, and …

… fade …

And Griffin lost himself within another layer of conciousness, slowly and unsteadily sinking towards rock bottom. He'd been there before, immediately after the incident in Prague, but with his newly-broken mind, he wasn't sure what he'd find there. He didn't want to know what he'd find there. Try as he might, he was still stuck with being somewhat aware of the world around him. There was no blissful silence for him to escape to. He could still feel the cold night on his skin, and he could still see the moss-covered wall in front of him. Pure hatred and jealousy were coursing through his veins, but his body was unresponsive, the splinters in his head making it impossible for his coherent thought processes to link to another part of his brain and force himself to move. At least, not without outward stimulus.

He dimly heard sobbing somewhere, coming from a long way behind him. David was back, and if what he could hear was any indication, whatever had happened hadn't gone well. Griffin felt a vicious surge of satisfaction at that, before another splinter moved and his thoughts meandered down a different track. He had so many different realities now that it was impossible to tell what he considered a lie and what he considered the truth. Did it matter, though? Did anyone actually care if he told the truth, or just a strange parody of it?

Lost within himself. Again.

\/\/\/

"Griffin?"

David cautiously knelt in front of the smaller Jumper, trying to meet his eyes. When there was no response, he slowly waved his arm across Griffin's field of vision. He didn't even blink.

"Shit," David muttered. He wiped his hands across his face, before gripping his own short hair and swearing again, louder this time. He lightly slapped Griffin's cheek. Again, no response. Above them, a light rain began to fall, steadily becoming heavier.

"Shit, shit, shit."

David sat back on his haunches in what was now mud, watching Griffin warily. After almost a minute of silence, Griffin's left arm raised about an inch, the fingers flexing upwards as if to ward off a blow. He didn't seem to notice the rain, and his face was still as blank as ever. David groaned, softly pleading.

"Griffin? Can you hear me? Griffin! Please! Wake up!"

\/\/\/

That rage was back. Slowly building, steadily taking away any pillars of logic or reason he had left. Lucidity was slowly returning, but Griffin was now desperately trying to force his own mind to stay submerged, so that he didn't have to deal with the situation kneeling in front of him. Just stay unconscious and let fear do the rest. Would David leave him alone then?

His revenge was supposed to be perfect; David was supposed to love Millie enough so that he would have stayed by her side, crying about the unfairness of it all. He wasn't supposed to chase Griffin. He wasn't supposed to be able to manipulate him into meeting the other. He definitely wasn't supposed to arrive, bearing news of a truce.

Of course, the way life would have it, he had done everything he wasn't supposed to do. And naturally, the moment he decided that he wanted to remain in this state, simply because it meant he didn't have to interact with the other, he found himself becoming more aware of everything around him.

He blinked, the world swimming into focus. David's face along with it.

Great… Just great…

\/\/\/

David flinched backwards as Griffin's eyes met his, smouldering once more. Neither of them said anything, instead silently studying each other, sitting in the rain, before David asked "What was that?"

"Nothing to do with you. Why do you care? It's not important. It's just something. Why do you care?"

"I was. Uh. I was worried about you."

Griffin snorted, pulling himself into a standing position and looking up at the dark sky. "Lucky me."

"I'm sorry."

Griffin froze for a second, before shrugging off the apology and the water on his jacket. "So?"

"I didn't want to hurt you. Ever. I was just. Worried. I didn't know what to do."

"Alright, who rejected you this time? What do you need?"

"Advice," David said simply.

"Go call a helpline," Griffin shot back.

"Please."

"I can see what you're trying to do."

"Look, I just want to talk to someone. You're the only one I know who can… just … please. You said we were equal, so… I just want a friend."

Griffin snickered. "No way. You lost that chance a long time ago."

"Then give me another chance! You said we were equal! Please, Griffin, I just - !" David covered his face with his hands, turning away, his shoulders shaking. Griffin stopped dead, watching. David didn't turn back around, and he didn't try to speak, his grief seizing hold of him again.

Griffin watched him for a long time, internally wrestling with himself. His nature screamed for him to get away, and escape while he still could. The more human part of him, the part that he could never fully get rid of…

Too many realities. So many motives, lies, wants, needs, truths, ideals, hopes, fears…

The rain began to fall more heavily, and David shivered. His own green jacket had been lost earlier that day, somewhere in Hawaii. Wrapping his arms around himself, he just faced the wall, trying to pull himself together. He didn't realise the rain had stopped hitting him until an unexpected warmth around his shoulders made him look down.

Griffin's too-large leather jacket was slung around David's shoulders. The Jumper himself was standing, bare arms crossed, head tilted to the side and a slightly challenging look on his face.

"I'm going to totally fall asleep here, but… You've got an hour. Talk."

And David, overwhelmed with gratitude, did.

Author's Note:

So, if you've read this, and you've survived whatever horrendous errors I've most likely made, please point out those aforementioned errors on the blue button below. If there aren't, for some weird reason, any errors, please also point this out via the blue button below. My mind is seriously... gah... at the moment, but, yeah. You know what I mean. Do you? I hope you do. Whee, insanity! In any case, I hope you're all well, and thank you for the reviews.