Notes: Another month elapses in the 'verse since chapter 6, bringing total story elapse to 5 months.
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Marcus clenched his teeth as the music swelled with such tremendous force that caused the walls around him to reverberate violently. If he had to listen to Laudate Dominum one more time he was liable to cause an apocalypse of his own.
At present, he was trying to complete the last of the forms for Cresil's replacement. He had located a scientist in the Ollindark dimension that seemed promising, only the girl was breaking his concentration. Switching off the cortex screen in his office, he decided she needed to be dealt with immediately.
Marcus stalked down the hall towards the music's source, wincing as his head throbbed in annoyance. It wasn't that he didn't enjoy the classics. He preferred them, actually. However, upon the 38th replay, his appreciation for them was waning. "Core bred teenagers," he muttered under his breath.
As he entered the dining room, Marcus noticed that the long table and chairs had been pushed against the wall, creating a makeshift dance floor. The girl was slowly dipping and rising to the sway of the music, her tiny, bare feet expertly guiding her as she twisted to the harmony. Hmmm. So, she was a dancer as well as a pain in the ass.
Folding his arms, he leaned back against the wall, momentarily awe-stuck by her grace. The girl was wearing a sleeveless cream-colored number, which fit her in the bodice like a second skin. Fringes of lace twirled with her as she spun. She didn't seem aware of his presence, and if she were, she was hiding it well. All of her focus and energy was concentrated on the ballet.
For all of her deficiencies, he had quickly learned the girl possessed an equal amount of brilliance. He found her incongruous behavior confounding. One day she'd be rubbing her food in his hair, claiming that the follicles were starving, and the next, she was going on about theoretical physics.
Just yesterday, she had spent the entirety of the morning drawing Matryoshka dolls, and when he noted her skill, she smiled and gave him the print calling it a peace offering. He had handed it right back, informing her that he was in the business of pandemonium, not amity.
Later that day, he had found the art posted to the fridge with a note that simply read; Truce. Apparently, part of her condition included bouts of delusion.
River looked up from her bow as the song ended and directly into Marcus's eyes. Puffing away the hair that had fallen across her face, her expression lit up and she smiled brightly at him. "Good, you're done. Hid your dagger again. Bet you can't find it this time!" she exclaimed breathlessly.
Marcus growled low as he pushed himself from the wall. "I'm not playing your childish games today, River. Please retrieve the weapon and return it to its case."
River's flushed cheeks fell, her chin turning up into an indignant pout as she stuck her little pink tongue out at him. Marcus raised an eyebrow as she marched past him, noting the bounce in her step.
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Dinner that night was different from the usual fare. Instead of awkward silences or the monotonous scrape, scrape of metal against porcelain, there was actual interaction.
It started when River put her fork down and placed her elbows on the table, resting her chin in her palms. Unblinkingly, she stared at Marcus, keeping her features at straight as possible.
Fork in mid-air, Marcus did a double-take at her persistent gaze. "What may I ask, are you doing?" He eyed her cautiously, ready for whatever strange thing she was going to do next.
River kept her lips pursed together as she spoke. "First one to crack a smile looses."
Marcus's eyebrows rose even higher. "Pardon me?"
River rolled her eyes at his dimness. "It's a game of willpower. Stare into my eyes."
As he scrutinized her unwavering expression, Marcus realized the girl was dead serious. Apparently the playful and girlish thing was becoming a steady routine.
Marcus thought a moment, trying to figure on his stance on the behavior. Mostly he felt indifferent. What could it hurt? Just another thing to beat her at doing.
Setting down his fork, he pushed his plate aside and folded his arms across the table. "Alright. I'll play your little game, but only because you're so sure of yourself." Marcus's expression retained its trade hollowness as he plunged in to the depths of her deep brown eyes with his own.
They stayed like this a full five minutes, neither wavering, nor blinking. He wondered if the girl was even breathing, she was so still. The irony of the game hit him as he studied her determined features. It had been like this between them since the beginning, each fighting for a foothold above the other, scrambling up a sheer faced cliff.
Every once in a while he could see flashes of himself in her, the strength she held onto as he pushed her dangerously close to the brink. Alternatively, the things he couldn't recognize or relate to intrigued him in a way no human had ever before.
Marcus wavered at that realization. It wasn't what he had intended at all, to be fascinated by a bottom dweller, by a girl whose existence equated a mere blink in time. Tearing his blue eyes from hers, he found it suddenly hard to look at her. Standing abruptly, his chair screeched back, piercing the quiet. "We're done here."
River was stunned; she hadn't expected him to give up so soon. Satisfaction tugged at the corners of her mouth, but she kept the smile from taking over as she looked up at him. "Will you admit defeat?"
"Hardly." Marcus snorted. He didn't like the inference in her tone, like she was somehow in control. "I just have more useful things to do with my time. As should you." He scanned the room briefly before returning his attention to back to her. "Since you're appearing more coherent than usual, you can start with tiding up the kitchen. I'll be in my office the rest of the evening and would prefer not to be bothered."
River followed Marcus with her large eyes as he left the room, getting the faint impression that she had stirred something within the creature.
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After clearing the table and washing the dishes, River habitually made her way through the apartment to Marcus's office. Feeling braver than usual, she wondered if he had changed his mind about wanting company. The enormity of his presence was her sanctuary, the secret to her newfound clarity.
As she approached, she noticed his door was ajar. Cautiously, she peeked her head through the opening, careful not to make a sound. The back of his large chair obstructed her view, but she new he was there.
A fluttering of anxiety welled up in her stomach as she raised her hand to knock. Looking between her fist and the door, the feeling grew and overwhelmed her, so she dropped her hand, deciding instead to sit outside the room until the feeling went away.
"I know you're there." Marcus announced as he leaned back against his chair, scrubbing his hands over his face. The girl was draining him, it seemed lately she always around. He liked it better when she knew her place. "Might as well enter." He invited reluctantly.
River hesitated, still unsure. The room was uncharted territory, his lair. Pushing the door open, she looked around the dim space for the first time. The left wall was lined with hundreds of texts, most in languages she had never seen before.
Something drew her to the ancient bindings and she forgot her apprehension as curiosity beckoned. They contained secrets greater then the ones in buried in her mind and it propelled her forward like a moth to a flame. Running her fingers over the collection she inquired about them absently. "All of these yours?"
"In a manner of speaking." Marcus alluded as he watched her tiny fingers skim over everything in their path. He followed her every movement from the shadows of his chair like a predator stalking his prey.
Turning from the books, River took in the lone, medium-sized painting, situated on the opposite wall. An image of a giant dominated the space, the menacing figure painted among wisps of pink and grey clouds. Set against a dark sky, the figure loomed over a valley of panic and trepidation, people scattering in terror amongst the pandemonium.
"Goya." River whispered, a chill crawling it's way up her spine. "El Panico"
Marcus leaned into the light and chuckled. "Insightful, isn't it?"
Keeping her eye on the foreboding depiction, she answered him. "Fate can be altered. Destruction averted."
Marcus cocked his head. "You know that's not true, River. Deep down you have all the answers. When they eventually become apparent, that silly thing called hope that you desperately cling to will be just another meaningless word."
River was unaffected by Marcus's cynicism as she continued to stare at the art, transfixed by something buried within the hues. "Everything has meaning. You are colorblind. There's something behind it. Something you don't want me to see."
Marcus tensed up. Maybe it wasn't the brightest idea to let a reader into his office. He really needed to stop letting his guard down around the girl. Before she could prod further, he stood up and grabbed her arm, pulling her from the study, and pushed her into the hall. "Go play, hide, or whatever it is that you do." Marcus instructed firmly. "And try not to destroy anything."
Still in a daze, River barely heard Marcus as she looked past him, unable to turn her attention from the room. Impressions of numbers flashed and dissipated in an instant, but the feeling of their importance remained.
Marcus noticed the girl's face was pinched with that faraway look again, the telltale sign she was up to no good. Placing his hand on the small of her back, he nudged her down the hall. "You heard me, go find something other than snooping to occupy your time."
River snapped out of her trance, remembering why she had come to Marcus in the first place. She didn't want them to return, to clutter her mind with their silent screams. As paradoxical as it was, he kept them away. She needed to be near the edge of his imposing shadow despite the risk of falling underneath its all-consuming darkness.
Looking up into Marcus's deceptively handsome face, she hoped to always recognize the shiver that made her blood run cold as a warning, and not enticement.
Except, as she took his large hand in both of hers it felt warm and misleading. He had skin, flesh and bone just as any other, and the illusion of it tempted her into a false sense of comfort. The contact made her feel anchored. Contentment sedated her as she smiled up at him. "Come. Found entertainment." She directed, tugging on his hand.
Marcus looked down at her skeptically. "I'm not going to spend the evening in another staring contest."
"Something different." River agreed thoughtfully. "A king and his knights."
It took Marcus only a moment to figure out what she was talking about. He was becoming almost entirely fluent in crazy. "You mean chess?"
River nodded her head and bit her lip apprehensively as she waited for his decision.
Marcus looked back to his office, he still had a bunch unfinished work to get to and he was also reluctant to encourage these little 'bonding sessions'. However, deep down he knew it wouldn't make a difference, not for what they had in store.
"Alright, but just one match." He relented for the second time in one night. "And don't make this a habit of this. I'm not your little friend. You and I will never be equals."
River rolled her eyes at the assertion as she pulled him down the hall into the living room, chastising him in a familiar manner. "You're a sadistic megalomaniac. Wouldn't aspire to be like you."
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The fire crackled and popped, the orange-yellow flicker teasing the dim edges of the space just beyond where River and Marcus were situated.
The minutes dissolved into hours as they challenged one another's mental prowess, this time with organized strategy and silent contemplation.
River leaned over the board and snatched up Marcus's piece, replacing it with her own. "Bishop takes King. I win!" River exclaimed. Smiling gleefully, she returned the pieces to their original positions, her enthusiasm radiant. "Let's go again."
Marcus frowned, wondering how the girl managed to beat him once more. He set down his glass of wine and poked at the fire, observing her exultant behavior from the corner of his eye.
The past few weeks had been fair for her sanity. To his astonishment, she hadn't destroyed a single item of his or gone off into her cryptic world of nonsense. She also had managed her own care and had attempted to cook on several occasions, most of it rather inedible, all the while being gallingly energetic.
He didn't know which personality was more exhausting, the knife-wielding psychotic or the brilliant, exuberant one.
It was odd, seeing her like this, sound, healthy, and not wanting to take it all away.
Sensing Marcus's thoughts, River looked up and smiled whimsically. "The sun came out. I work. I function like I'm a girl."
Returning the poker to its stand, Marcus leaned back on his right arm and eyed River up and down. "Yes, well, I think it's time for this functioning girl to retire to bed."
River pouted in disappointment. "Just one more? I'll let you win."
Marcus shook his head. "You've kept me from several deadlines that need attending to." Standing, he brushed the hairs from the rug off of his trousers and offered a large hand down to her. "Up you go."
River put her small hand in his and stood up. "I can help. Be of use. Productive."
Marcus was amused. "Well, I'm scheduled to bear witness to a torturing via the cortex in a bit. A new trainee, you see. You're welcome to join me."
River's smile faded as she let go of his hand. Torture was something with which she was all too familiar with. The immediate memory of scalpels and needles caused her to shudder. The bits she had held down for so long painfully climbed their way up, the bile like jagged rocks.
Marcus smile deepened. "Change your mind?"
Tilting her fallen chin back up to him, he brushed his thumb across it soothingly, basking once again in the sanguine vulnerability that poured from her. He realized this was the way he preferred her, completely submissive. "Have you forgotten so easily?" He cooed gently, maintaining his own artifice of compassion.
Momentarily incapacitated, River forgot her nausea and closed her eyes. "You make it so easy." She whispered, gulping as her heart betrayed her, stuttering under his control, under his placating touch. She tried not to feel the things he was making her feel, like putty in his hands. Her emotions confused her; he confused her.
Thick, black lashes fluttered before they opened again. Looking up at her dark keeper, River wondered if the glimmer of something indiscernible within him could be reached, if he could ever feel just a spark of the emotions that rendered her powerless.
As she looked deep into his hypnotizing blues, a larger part of her feared he was the epitome of Pandora's box.
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The next morning when Marcus emerged from his bedroom, he found River peering longingly out the large window atop the staircase. Casually, he strode over to her, noticing the faraway look on her face. Leaning down, he whispered tauntingly in her ear. "Are we thinking about jumping again?"
River startled at Marcus's deep voice, but kept her gaze straight ahead. There was a hint of optimism in her tone as she spoke. "Let's go outside today."
"You know that's not possible, River." Marcus looked down at the small girl next to him. "Besides, we have everything we need right here."
River remained silent for a minute before trying again. "There's a park." She pointed past several complexes to a patch of trees in the distance and looked up at Marcus with the utmost seriousness. "We could take a walk. Stroll through while holding hands like a normal couple."
Marcus cleared his throat, not sure how to respond when he noticed River's eyebrows lift, her expression light. "Made you blush." She teased.
"I don't blush." Marcus exclaimed indignantly. "Wouldn't even know how. Embarrassment is a human emotion, a weakness contrary to my nature."
River clasped her hands behind her back and cocked her head as she schooled him. "Defensiveness is a sign of culpability."
There was that infuriating smile again. Marcus snorted at her. "You're a real brat when you're sane, you know that?"
River grinned proudly at the indictment. "Simon says…" Halting mid-sentence, her smile faltered, the glow draining from her face as she was hurtled back to reality.
It had been weeks since she had last thought of her brother. Guilt weakened her insides at the mental treachery. Leaving behind the pseudo world she had tried to create for herself, the deep ache returned full force. She missed her gei gei, longed for him and everything he represented. It had been so long since she'd last seen him, years. She had forgotten his smile, his tender laugh, his knowing eyes filled with years of wisdom. As faint as her memory was, she knew at least it was real, that he was real.
Turning, she fell silent and continued to stare out the window, watching the small forms below enjoy the daylight. She could feel their happiness just beyond her reach, the same feeling she was trying to imitate, but it was no longer working. A dark cloud now hovered, chaos seeping its way back in through the cracks.
The light was gone from her eyes when she finally turned and looked up at Marcus, her tone accusing. "You're hiding me from them. Underneath the gleam and polish of the emerald city." Her eyes brimmed with tears, her voice pleading as she held Marcus's gaze. "There's no place like home. I want to go home."
Marcus's lip twitched, anger flooding him instantly. He had gone out of his way these past few weeks to appease her, for reasons he couldn't even place. The thing was completely ungrateful. His voice was cold as he addressed her. "Well, you can't. You're a big girl, River. It's time you face up to your reality." Marcus paused for effect, he was going savor the pain his last promise inflicted. "You're never going to see your brother again."
River wavered as Marcus's words tore through her, causing her bones to liquefy. She struggled to keep her body from sagging to the floor; she couldn't give him that satisfaction again. Through her pain there was a stubbornness that keep her buoyant, from completely slipping beneath the waves.
She had fooled herself into believing she could adapt, that she could become friends with the monster by trivializing the barriers. The realization of her own folly was more devastating than anything Marcus could ever do to her.
Looking up at him with unsteady eyes, River sounded more miserable than she had ever been before. "You were correct. Can't forget what you are."
Marcus smirked, happy to see that his fragile, broken flower had retuned. "Can't say I didn't warn you."
"Yes, you win." River admitted vacantly as she brushed past Marcus. The thread of hope she clung to dissolved with the admission.
Slamming the door to his room, she locked herself within and leaned back against it. There were no tears, not this time. Only emptiness.
TBC
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