Jason awoke to the familiar scent of Renamon and in his dozy state he decided that there were far worse things to wake up to. His head ached like the morning after a heavy night out and his stomach felt unsettled, but at least he was warm, lying in something soft and covered with a downy blanket. His eyes felt gummy and thick, stuck together with dried sleep and he prised them apart uncomfortably, immediately wishing he had not bothered as the bright light of day hurt his head even more.
He looked around, finding himself upon Renamon's bed of soft straw, covered with a soft green blanket. Everything smelled of her and he smiled, wriggling down into the straw and feeling at peace again. He could smell damp forest wafting in on a gentle breeze, the rain storm had passed finally.
There was a gentle squawk from outside and his peace was short lived.
"Jason!" exclaimed the yellow vixen, by his side in a flash. He winced, shirking away at the suddenness of her appearance. Her fur glowed painfully bright in the sunlight streaming through the window. "What have you done?"
"Hi," he said sheepishly. His head was spinning in a daze and everything felt like a dream, from the strange detachment he felt to the exotic creature before him. The world spun faster and faster and his vision wavered uncontrollably. Renamon took his head gently between her paws and made him look at her, peering into his eyes one at a time.
"You're pretty," he slurred before passing out again.
"Stay awake," she urged, shaking him slightly. "I don't know what to do. Please, Jason!"
His head felt heavy in her paws and she lay it back down gently on the pillow. She was no expert on human physiology but he felt cold and clammy to her touch and his appearance was not all it used to be. Dark circles were forming around his eyes and his skin was a terrible shade of white, thin and stretched looking. Each breath sounded like it was causing him great pain and his heartbeat was slow, too slow. Her paws were shaking uncontrollably and she was terrified of the helpless uncertainty she felt, an almost entirely alien concept for her. Renamon was always in control.
"Do not leave me again," she begged, laying her head down on his chest and hugging him gently. "I have so little left."
Jason remained still, unconscious and unhearing, dead to the world. Had he been awake and lucid he might have just heard the sound of his ECG monitor in the real world emitting a flatline beep, his heart having stopped. His virtual body followed quickly, the connection between them rapidly failing. Renamon clutched helplessly at the blanket covering him as his body shook with one last ragged breath and the laboured sound of his pulse stopped.
A strange thing can happen in the moments before death, time seems to stretch out for longer than anyone could imagine, a product of the scarce remaining oxygen being consumed by a billion failing neurons and in their last discordant firings achieving a single moment of perfect, brilliant clarity. Jason's spirit was free, un-tethered to his corporeal body and able to perform one last task before oblivion, if he wanted. He chose to fall down into the code of the digital world he had once helped to sculpt, searching for someone he had once known. A name rang out around the uncountable spaces of the simulation. "Tessa."
Renamon squeezed her eyes shut, determined not to cry. Jason had been true to his word, the soldiers had passed on by, coming within a stone's throw of her compound and wandering on straight by as if they were blind. His magic had worked far better than even he could have anticipated, but ultimately he had given himself to save her tiny village and all the lives within it. She swallowed the lump in her throat that threatened to choke her, tilting her head back and thinking of nothing but darkness, imagining the voids she had fought so hard to prevent. It was something she would often do when she became agitated, forcing herself to think of nothing at all could help calm her, but this time it was not working.
The darkness she tried so hard to see was filled with flashes of light, snippets of images and memories that she was not even sure were hers. It had happened many times before, that disconcerting feeling of having someone else's memories, as if someone else was quietly hiding in her head. She shook it hard, trying to clear her thoughts but they just would not budge. Something caught her eye, and she started to pay attention, looking at the things her memories were showing her. Somewhere distant she could almost hear a disembodied voice, speaking in the most pure and soothing tones imaginable, the voice of her goddess calling out to her in a language she did not know, imploring her to do something, only she did not know what.
Images appeared over and over at speed, flashing before her mind's eye. The death of a digimon at her claws and the explosion of data that followed. Jason sneaking up and taking her pendant, Duskmon demanding its secrets. The young digimon in the compound below her, alive and new and laughing.
With a cry of comprehension Renamon tore the pendant from her neck, shocked to see the brightness with which it glowed, brighter than ever before and with colours she did not know existed. The room glowed with its intensity, brighter even than the strip of sunlight falling on the floor. She did not know exactly what to do, but trusted her instincts and pressed it to Jason's still chest, her own paw covering it entirely. Around her the blue fog materialised once again, whirling with an intensity that frightened even her this time. She whimpered quietly as straw and dust whipped at her, stinging her eyes and ears like a million tiny insects and tugging at the blanket.
Just when she thought she had made a mistake, it stopped, leaving a silence after the roar of the wind that was almost as intense. Her heart pumped painfully in her chest and she withdrew her shaking paw from Jason's chest, revealing the empty crystal, now devoid of any colour or light, just a worthless piece of glass once more, lying on the thin fabric of his shirt. As she watched it moved slightly, the tiniest rise and fall as Jason took shallow breaths.
Renamon cried out in joy and threw herself upon him, startling him awake. She wrapped her arms tightly around his chest, pressing her face into the crook of his neck again and laughing through tears of relief. Jason thumped her weakly on the back, "Can't… breathe…" he managed. She released him with a gasp and hugged herself tightly instead, embarrassed all of a sudden.
"You forget your own strength," he said, managing an exhausted smile and rubbing at his ribs as he sat stiffly up on the cot.
She reached out and took one of his hands in both her paws, squeezing it gently. "How do you feel?" she asked, leaning forward.
"Ugh, like I've overslept for hours," he grumbled. He looked around, finding himself somewhere familiar but also unsure of why he was there. "Headache's gone, though. I don't really recall a lot. What's… ah, happened? I feel… really strange."
Renamon surreptitiously leant forwards and scooped up the empty pendant, hiding it underneath the blanket. "You were ill," she told him sheepishly. "You overstretched yourself, hiding my village from the humans."
"Really?" he said, unsure. "I remember trying to hide everything, then it's like I know but can't remember what happened next. How long was I out? Did it work?"
"Yes, it worked. And not more than half a day."
Jason sat up straighter, feeling more aware and lucid by the second. He looked at her, his head to one side. She was kneeling beside him and looked extremely dishevelled, her fur all poking out at odd angles. The room was full of bits of straw and leaves and the few trinkets she had on a little shelf had fallen over. "Have you been crying?" he asked hesitantly, reaching out and stroking the little trail of wet underneath her eye with the back of his finger. He expected her to flinch away, but instead she leaned into his touch, her eye half closed.
Suddenly she realised what she was doing and snapped her head back, composing her features and looking away, staring intently at a point somewhere on the wall. "I must have got something in my eye." Renamon looked down at her body, suddenly horrified by the mess her fur was in, tufts pointing in all directions. She began furiously smoothing it down with her palms, glad of an excuse to focus her attention on something else. Jason watched her with a slightly devious grin on his face, aware of her sudden discomfort and enjoying it.
"Were you worried about me?" he asked innocently.
She snapped her head up and glared at him, her bright blue eyes narrowed slightly. "Yes. We will probably continue to require your help," she said, trying to sound businesslike once more. He just grinned even more and in that moment she wanted nothing more than to wipe the smirk off his face. "You said some peculiar things while you were half conscious," she said, hiding a grin of her own. "Do you really think I am pretty?"
The smirk dropped from his face and he blushed an astonishing shade of pink. "Did I say that?" he stammered.
"Yes," she said coyly, turning away to hide her smile. Her ears twitched traitorously, revealing her mirth for him to see.
He laughed and rolled his eyes theatrically. "Must have been dreaming about something, I guess," he said, with a quick grin that could almost have been a wink. She shook her head in despair as his infernal grin returned anew and climbed to her feet, her knees complaining after having knelt down for so long.
"Are you well enough to walk?"
"Of course," he replied confidently, swinging his legs out from under the blanket and jumping nimbly to his feet. His confidence was premature, however, and the room began to swim until he sat back down heavily on the side of the cot. "Whoa, maybe not. Jesus, what was I drinking?"
"Take it slower," she suggested, helping him to his feet. "You are very weak."
"A bit of fresh air and a walk might help," he admitted, blinking rapidly to try and clear his swaying vision.
Renamon took him on a very slow and gentle tour of her settlement, nestled away among the trees and introduced him warily to some of her young charges. It turned out that she had started the settlement soon after the creation of the world, collecting those digimon who had the capacity for intelligence but no way to learn and helped them as best she could, protecting them from the wild, feral creatures that roamed the woods. She spoke briefly of Guilmon, how he had helped her start to build the treehouse and round up her first group, but when he pressed for details of her relationship with the red dragon she became quiet and withdrawn.
"I know not what to do to protect this place," she admitted glumly as he sat on a tree stump, resting. He still felt peculiar, not all there, like pieces of him were missing. "Once it was enough to simply drive away the ferals, but then the dark digimon came, and now against your people I stand little hope."
"I promise you, Ren, I'll do everything in my power to stop them. When I get back to the real world I'm going to find our commander and make him see sense. I know I don't have long left, but I promise you I will do absolutely everything that I can."
"I know you will," she said, smiling weakly. "I am profoundly sorry."
"For what?" he asked in surprise.
"For doubting your intentions. I cannot remember the number of nights I have paced around this very tree stump, thinking of nothing but your demise. I am ashamed, after all you have done for us, all you went through."
She knelt down on one knee in front of him, her head bowed in dishonour and her paws clasped loosely before her. "Get up," he said irritably, waving his hand at her. "It's fine, it was the least I could do. I won't have you grovelling in the dirt like that. I just fainted, it's been a tiring few days."
She climbed reluctantly to her feet, fidgeting on the spot and avoiding his eyes. "I must check on my young ones," she announced, looking for an excuse to get away from the man around whom she felt so awkward. "You may stay here as long as you need."
Jason had intended to leave as soon as possible, keen to get back to his work but when he slowed his thoughts down long enough to actually look around him he found that the little secluded village within the trees was utterly charming, particularly as night fell and the countless torches burst into life and threw a warm glow over everything. He sat peacefully in a carved wooden chair under the shelter of a flowering tree, warmed by a small fire that one of the adolescent agumon had built nearby. He had tried to help but as soon as he tried to stand up his legs had started to shake and he had reluctantly sat down again. Something was very wrong, it was like his body was not properly under his control anymore.
With little else to do he was cautiously investigating some more of the things he had learnt about the underworld and in his hands laid a short section of a fallen branch, riddled with holes where he had been learning to alter existing materials, rather than conjuring them from the ether as he did with his weapons. The holes might not have been very impressive to look at but considering he had made them with nothing but his mind he was inordinately pleased with them. It proved that he could modify the structure of the world in fine detail, as well as read it. Satisfied with his control over the process he picked up a fresh piece and began stripping the twigs from its side then boring a hole down its length. He repeated the process on several more until he had a collection of varying lengths and thicknesses. Blowing experimentally over one end produced a soft, mellow sound.
"You know," he said to the handful of digimon who had come to watch him work, "the level of detail in this world never ceases to amaze me. That this even works is astonishing." The digimon, of course, did not understand what he was talking about and chattered amongst themselves in a childish manner than made him smile. They uttered appreciative noises as he worked about tuning his instrument, blowing discordant notes until they rang true. The final touch was to warp a piece of wood around the neck of each, holding them in place.
"What is it, Jasonmon?" asked a lopmon, stepping forward with her long ears dragging on the ground behind her. Even more digimon had gathered now, all curious to see what the strange human was doing. They leaned closer, the firelight flickering in their wide eyes.
"This, my little friend, is a panflute," he replied, holding it up to his lips and blowing across the openings. Its sound was gentle and unusual, it was perhaps the first time music had been heard in the digital dimension's short history. The normally excitable digimon were transfixed by the sweet sound that echoed around the trees, not moving a muscle until he was finished.
"So pretty," murmured a biyomon, leaning on one of the others. "Again?"
He laughed and played another short tune, regaining his confidence. At college he had been quite the flutist, although it had been at least five years since he had touched any of his instruments, let alone the slightly obscure panflute. "I'm glad you like it," he told them, tucking the instrument away behind him. The digimon sighed in disappointment and clamoured for him to continue but he pleaded exhaustion and the eldest few shooed the rest away.
"Music," said Renamon from behind him, startling him. "It is something I have only second-hand memories of, like knowing the mechanics of running but never being able to experience it."
"Have you been there long?" he asked, suddenly feeling extremely self conscious. She glided past and sat down on the mossy ground opposite him, looking up at him with the firelight shining in her fur. Somewhere above in the tree a bird called softly to another, a lonely sound.
"Long enough," she replied. "Will you play again?"
The firelight shimmered across her fur. "Will you ask me to?"
"Will you play for me, Jason?" she asked sweetly. "I would very much like to hear more."
He gladly pulled the flutes out again, playing a melancholy tune he remembered from long ago, a sad melody that seemed to have the same mesmerising effect on Renamon as it did on the others.
"There is so much meaning without words," she said sadly when he finished. "It is as if it speaks a story of its own."
"Very perceptive," he said. "There is a story. It is about an actress, old and close to death, looking back nostalgically on her life of glamour and fame. She remembers when she was young and beautiful, and not the empty husk she is now. Once she has remembered it all she feels ready to start a new life, having closed on this one. She goes gladly to her death, ready to be born again and start a new life."
The forest was silent for some time, the young digimon having been sent to their huts to sleep, and the only sound was the crackle of the fire and the occasional call of a night-bird somewhere in the distance.
"I have heard that some digimon are reborn," Renamon said at last, speaking slowly and quietly. "After they are deleted. If their data is not absorbed by another then it returns to the world and can find its way into an egg again. Is that true?"
"I don't know, Renamon," he said, handing her the panflute. "I hope so."
"Will you?" she asked before blowing tentatively over them as she had seen Jason do. A single note filled the air, fading away to nothing.
"No," he replied. "I'm not digital. However much it feels like I'm really here, I'm not. My body and mind are in the real world, and it doesn't work like that for us. When we die we just go away."
Another soft note echoed around the trees. "Are you afraid?"
"I was," he said after some thought. "But not anymore. I've had a remarkable life, and, in a way, I've lived two of them, one out there and one in here with you guys. It's more than most people get, and I'm thankful for that. I'm glad I've met all the digimon. I'm thankful that I've met you." The last bit made her smile softly.
"I wish very much that I could help you more," she said, her normally emotionless voice thick with regret. "But I have no power that can help you."
"That you care enough to want to help me makes it easier," he told her, his chest tight.
They did not speak again for some time, Jason content to gaze up at the virtual heavens and listen to Renamon's disjointed attempts at music, quiet and soft in the darkness.
He stayed with them until late the next morning, recovering his strength and trying to make sense of the feelings and thoughts in his head. He received a bit of a shock in the morning when he announced his intention to disconnect and gave it a go, working through the familiar pathways in his mind to activate the machinery that would inject the appropriate drugs into his bloodstream and wake him from his induced coma.
"It's gone," he said in confusion and Renamon raised an eyebrow at him. "I can't disconnect. It's like there's a blanket over the portal to the real world. I can't see through it."
"Maybe the spell you cast has blocked your view out, as well?" she suggested. It made a certain amount of sense, he could not pretend he understood exactly what it was he had done when he created the shroud and it was possible it had done something to his own link. He just hoped it was not permanent. When they woke him manually, as they would eventually, then he would return to Earth, but what if he had inadvertently blocked any path to get back to the virtual one?
"Okay, I'm going to head out then," he said, quelling the slight panicked feeling that rose in his throat, a feeling of drowning without a rope to hold onto. "Find a spot in the open, away from here, and try again."
Renamon looked behind her anxiously, watching the young digimon playing in the spaces between the huts. He knew her two biyomon guards were asleep, resting after a long watch while he was ill and Renamon was waiting by his side.
"It's okay," he told her, reading her expression easily. "You stay here, I'll be fine."
"Are you sure you are well?" she asked. "Perhaps you should stay another day."
"Really, I'm fine," he said with a chuckle. "I wouldn't want to outstay my welcome, in any case."
"You haven't!" she said suddenly in a rare moment of speaking before her mind had time to intervene, then caught herself and sat back on her haunches. "I… enjoy having you here."
He felt his cheeks redden slightly and put it down to the heat. "Then I'll come back as soon as I can," he told her, placing a hand lightly on her shoulder as he stood. "I can help you continue to build your treehouse."
"I would like that," she said softly, avoiding his gaze. They were both pretending that they did not know that he was unlikely to ever return. "Are you certain you will be safe alone? I am sure one of the others could stand watch, so that I could accompany you."
"Now you're just trying to make an excuse to come with me," he said with a wide grin. "Don't you worry about me. I'll be back before you know it."
He said his goodbyes to the playful digimon that rushed around his feet as he walked across the enclosure, feeling Renamon's hot gaze on his back the whole way. They had both fidgeted awkwardly on the spot, each with a sense that there should be more to saying goodbye but in the end he had torn himself away, pausing at their fence and waving to her with a wink before disappearing into the trees. She stood beneath her tree and wrung her paws together, desperate to run after him but bound by her duty to her young.
Renamon was acutely aware that he had come back into her life only to leave again, and she did not know if he would ever return again. There were others watching her, so she was careful to control her appearance and from the outside she was the same, cold, calculating vixen that everybody knew. Underneath, however, she was distraught and as soon as she was alone the tears came again, seemingly unstoppable.
When they were finally over she punched a tree angrily, clenching her teeth together in frustration. Renamon hated that her feelings were getting the better of her, until Jason had come along the only other being that had ever seen her softer side was Guilmon. She was ashamed of the effect he had on her, seemingly without even trying. Did he know how he made her feel? Why was it so effortless?
Instinctively she reached for her pendant, usually a calming measure, but this time it was dull and empty. She had used it to save his life, but he was still not well, anybody could see that. She knew she had only extended his last few days, at the expense of something she had been planning for most of her life.
Back in the woods Jason's cheery demeanour fell away as soon as he was out of range and he stopped to rest against a tree. If he had told the truth then he would have said that he was not feeling at all well. He was short of breath and his head still swam slightly if he turned too quickly. The sickness in his stomach was not abating and he had not managed to eat more than a few scraps of dry bread, despite all the tasty looking things Renamon had brought him. To top it all in the back of his mind there was a feeling that she had still been hiding something from him, despite knowing how little time he had left. The sickness and disorientation had to be more than just a simple case of exhaustion. Whatever he had done deep inside the program had taken some far more serious effect on him, but he could not work out what. He had the feeling that she knew what that something was but was hiding it.
When he felt strong enough to go on again he broke out into the plains beyond the forest, climbing to the top of a small rise to survey his surroundings. He was not sure how far his shroud extended so he sat himself down on the warm grass and closed his eyes, concentrating hard on the mental hoops he had to jump through to access the real world. Again, it was like there was a blackness surrounding him, something he could just not penetrate.
"Crap!" he exclaimed aloud after a few more minutes trying. He would have to make his way further out. He began to worry what other abilities he had inadvertently crippled with his unwise meddling and tried a few of the other programs.
The result of his tracking program was interesting, it showed many humans nearby, within running distance if he could pick up his pace a little. Alarmingly there were many other contacts around the same area, unidentifiable and garbled.
Jason frowned and got to his feet, peering intently into the distance where he expected them to be but they were too far away to be visible, even with his keen eyesight. He began walking, progressing up to a gentle jog when he felt ready and within an hour he was close enough to see that something was not right at all.