Spencer wondered who this new alter was. He couldn't feel anyone different there. It was strange to think of yet another person inside of him. Someone else feeding off of him. He wished he knew more about them, though. He pushed it to the back of his mind as he drove up to the Piedmont Sanitarium.
He was going to spend the whole day with his mother, and was extremely excited about it.
He parked his car close to the front doors, and went inside.
Diana was laying in her bed, nose in a book when a nurse came to tell her that her son had arrived.
She shut the book happily and went out to greet him.
Spencer stood waiting for her in a plain white shirt, black tie, and khakis. His smile grew exponentially when he saw her. She enveloped him into a hug, so happy to see him.
She led him to her room, where they sat together at the edge of her bed.
"How are you feeling, sweetheart?" She asked, rubbing his back in circles.
He smiled. "Good."
"Good."
"How was the move?"
"Stressful, but worth it."
They shared a smile.
"How has your medication been working?" He asked.
"As well as can be expected, I suppose."
"Do you still have bad days?"
"Of course, but I'll always have them." He nodded solemnly.
Diana gave Spencer a hug, acutely aware of how long their separation had lasted, apart from his increasingly sparse visits. Spencer, not used to physical affection, froze for a moment before returning the hug.
"I've missed you." She said quietly. He smiled, even though no one was looking.
"I missed you, too."
She let him go and looked into her son's eyes.
"I'm so proud of you, Spencer." She said, earnestly.
Although he'd heard the words a million times, they never lost their ability to make him feel special and important.
"Thanks, Mom."
She smiled. It was like seeing a rare butterfly on a spring day. It was genuine and not riddled with her illness as it had been when he was a child. It made the words that much more important.
As quick as Spencer had been there, suddenly he was gone. Danny was there, crying. Diana pulled him into her lap, hushing him as he sobbed.
"Shhhh. It's okay, baby."
"I came to say goodbye, Mommy."
"What do you mean, sweetie?" She asked, brushing a stray lock of hair behind his ear.
"He's going to take us away. But he let me say goodbye first."
She squeezed Danny tightly. "I love you."
"I love you too, Mommy."
Suddenly, his arms dropped from around his mother and stood up.
Diana Reid watched stiffly. She would not be frightened by this new alter.
His head lifted, and the look in his eyes startled her, but she did not show fear.
His eyes were blazing with anger and fury. The corner's of his mouth twitched into a murderous smile.
"What's your name?" She asked, calmly.
"My name," he said slowly, "is Thantos."
Her mind registered the meaning immediately: death.
"What do you want with the alters? What do you want with my son?"
"My goals are simple. I want control. And I will do whatever it takes to get it."
Diana was quiet for a few minutes, gathering her thoughts.
"One by one they'll be gone and then I'll be the only one left."
"You'll never get away with this." She said, quietly.
He looked right into her eyes, cold and calculating.
"I already have."
On that tactful note, he left, and Spencer was back. The way his mother was looking at him made him sure something was wrong.
"What? What happened?"
"The new alter..." She bit her lip, trying to hold herself together.
"What did he do?"
"He's trying to control you by picking off your alters."
Spencer opened his mouth to say something, but nothing came out.
"Spencer, I want you to go and see your team now while you're still lucid. Get their help with this, and then come back. Do you understand me?" She said everything precisely, leaving no room for error.
"Yes ma'am."
"Good." She gave him a hug, then watched him go. When he left, she got up and went into a room she had never been in before and hadn't intended to be.
It was a tiny chapel. The room was all white, with a large gold cross at the center of the room, with Christ nailed to it. There were two rows of white pews, and cushions at the alter for people to kneel on. Behind the wall of white that held the cross were stain glass windows depicting the life of Christ. A pipe organ was at one side of the room. She turned to walk up the center aisle, eyes fixated on the tortured face of Christ. She knelt down onto the velvet cushions, never taking her eyes off of the cross.
She was alone. Good. She wanted it that way.
For much of her life she had put her faith in books and facts, but she had always believed in a higher power. Not as strongly as some people, perhaps, but enough to know the Bible and how to pray. That sliver of hope in something greater than herself was being bolstered.
"Lord," she began, unsure of how to start. It had been a while since she had spoken to God. "Please protect my son as he battles these demons. I know that you have a plan for him, and I've seen it with everything he does at his work. Please help him."
After praying aloud, she was silent for a few minutes, trying to find some bit of inner peace. Her search was futile. She sighed, hating the feeling of everything being out of her control. She sang a hymn aloud (and a bit off key) before feeling that she had accomplished what she had set out to do. She went back to her room, still hoping that her son would be okay.