A/N: so, this chapter is an effort of mine to get you guys caught up to speed with the happenings in between the chapters that I conveniently left out because of several 'complains' to hurry up with the storyline. the next chapter would be the same, probably with one more between rose and dimitri and the continuation of adrian and sydney, which is the second short story in this chapter.
notadreamyetnotanightmare: wow. that's... pretty inspiring. thank you for all of that :P
.g-baby : i'll get to their age soon :p i havent decided it yet, but rose and lissa would probably be around 18 or 19, with christian and dimitri at 24.
majic91: haha, thank you!
Thursday
8.09 p.m.
Christian glanced at the doctor's quarters for the fifth time in ten minutes, feeling something tug lightly at his heart. The curtains were pulled over the windows – Sydney seemed averse to sunlight for some unfathomable reason – as it had been since the morning, but the thin fabric of it didn't do much to hide the soft glow of the light inside. It seemed to beckon to him like moths to a flame, but unlike the moths that were drawn to a flame because of the brilliance, Christian knew that his compulsion to enter had everything to do with a girl recuperating inside.
A girl he had no business in caring about, because not only was she too fucking young for him – god damn it – she was also too delicate and fragile with her flowery and ethereal beauty. She was wrong for him in every way, but his ignorant libido didn't give so much as a damn because God help him, he lusted for her so badly that he was having trouble falling asleep at night.
"Damn it, Christian. Are you even listening?"
Christian blinked, rubbing the spot between his eyebrows where a headache was brewing as he swung his gaze back to an irritated Dimitri. "No, sorry. I, urm, sort of. . . drifted off."
Dimitri eyed him steadily for a second, and his probing gaze had Christian turning away before he could get a good read on him. "I've known you for a long time, Christian," Dimitri said quietly, turning to look up at the beautiful velvet night sky adorned with luminous stars that sparkled and danced. "And not once have I seen you like this before. Distracted and. . . I don't know. Lackluster?" Dimitri's gaze was back on him again. "I know I probably – okay, certainly – don't have the right to ask you this, but are you sure that you should be getting yourself involved with her?"
Christian didn't bother with denial; he was too much of a mess inside. "I don't know, Dimitri." Sighing heavily, he fiddled with his half empty bottle of water – huh, and he always thought himself as an optimist – needing a sort of distraction while he tackled this unwelcome topic. "You know that expression about being wrapped around a little finger?" Christian glanced at Dimitri in time to see his nod. "I think that describes me pretty well right now. Chances are that if Lissa asks me to do something for her, I'll do it without hesitation. I've only seen her smile once, and it was from a distance when she was chatting with Rose." Christian closed his eyes, thinking back to the first day when he had caught a glimpse of Lissa's smile. "I don't think I've seen anything prettier. God, I might even jump off a building if it means that I get to see that smile of her's again."
Dimitri was silent, not offering his opinion as of yet.
"I never believed in love at first sight, y'know? I always thought it was a load of bullshit. Heck, about a week ago, love was about as coherent to me as physics." Christian chuckled wryly at his comparison before melancholy settled over him once again. "I'm not saying that what I'm feeling is love since I have no fucking idea what it's even like, but. . . it scares the shit out of me, man. It's like I need to see her or I'll fret about her, and now that she's still injured. . ." He heaved out a frustrated breath, shaking his head.
A minute passed in pensive silence before Dimitri spoke up. "I'm in no position to be giving you any advice because I'm about as clueless as you when it comes to love, but here's what I think. Don't be too rash. You've always hated being tied down, and that sort of fear is hard to shed so take it slow with her, that is if you're going to court her. If not, just leave her alone. Lissa may seem tough on the outside, but it's pretty obvious she's breakable on the inside. That's why Rose is so protective of her." A pause. "This isn't fun and games, Christian. Lissa knows that you're a player, and she would be reluctant to let down her guard with you, so you need to coax her through it gently by showing her that you're truly into her and want to get into a relationship with her. It's going to take a lot of time, so if you're doing this just for a quick shag, I suggest you back off now."
Christian looked offended. "I'm not doing this for sex, Dimitri." Then his lips tilted into a sheepish smile. "Okay, let me rephrase that. I'm not doing this purely for sex, because goddamn, I'm so fucking hard for her it hurts."
Dimitri nodded, satisfied. "Made up your mind, then?"
"Yeah. At least I think so." Christian interlaced his fingers, looking down at the ground from his perch on the bench.
"You gonna go visit her now?"
Christian looked up at the cabin again, for the sixth time now, and shrugged. "I don't think that's a good idea. I'll give her some space first, maybe for a few days, while I clear up my mind. Won't do me any good if I'm so overwhelmed by lust that I can't think straight."
A dark stare from Dimitri. "Scratching an itch?"
"What else can I do?"
"That's fucked up, Christian." Dimitri shook his head. "If you really feel something for Lissa, you won't even want to have sex with any other girls."
Christian expelled a sigh of exasperation, laying his hands on the table, palms up. "You're right, it doesn't seem that appealing anymore. But I'm running out of options. I don't want to scare her off, Dimitri. Do you think that she would be charmed by me if I come off as a sex craving maniac? I don't want to do it, Dimitri. I need to. There's a difference."
"You can just try to explain to Lissa – "
"What, and risk scaring her off? 'Hey, look, I'm really into you and I think I'm half in love with you, but whenever I'm around you, I have this fucking bad erection and I need to get laid soon or I'm going to go crazy and I really wish that the person who I'm going to make love to is you rather than other girls.' Yeah, that's definitely going to work wonders, Dimitri."
Dimitri stood up wearily. "It's your choice, Christian. I don't have a say in it. Just. . . don't screw up, okay? I'm going to turn a blind eye to your courting and pretend I have no idea what you're doing."
"Right." Christian nodded thankfully. "The rule. Thanks man."
Dimitri returned the gesture with a terse nod of his own, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his jeans and walked off. Without turning back, he said, "I sure hope you know what you're doing."
Christian stared at his now empty bottle as Dimitri faded into the darkness, his mind whirling. "Me too," he murmured to nobody in particular, "me too."
Wednesday
1.54 a.m.
"Are you positive?"
Sydney fought the urge to pick up one of her surgical instruments and stab the infuriating man in front of her with it – preferably one that wasn't even remotely sharp, so she could bludgeon him slowly to death. "Yes," she gritted out, keeping her anger in check. "I'm absolutely positive that there's nothing wrong with you, and that you're still perfectly capable of siring children in the future."
"Sweet!" Adrian slid off the chair with a lopsided grin at the confirmation, a lock of his tousled brown hair falling over his eyes as he did so. "Thanks, doc."
Sydney swirled around and strode to the sink without another word, not wanting to prolong contact with Adrian. When she reached out to turn on the tap, she noticed that her hands were trembling. Taking a deep breath, she stilled her hands and chanted to herself to calm down, to stop acting like an amateur. She was a professional, for God's sakes. She was also a perfect Alchemist, and that meant that she was never ruffled.
Never.
So why did a few minutes spent with Adrian in the same room make her so. . . irrational? She had treated thousands of patients and sometimes, and when the situation called for it, had touched them in intimate places, but she did all of that with a certain detachedness to it, like she was just a spectator and not actually performing the actions herself. It was what Alchemists were trained to do from young – being unaffected by everything.
Maybe trained wasn't the right word. Conditioned suited the context better. Ever since Alchemists were discovered to be very adept at healing and curing wounds, they were tracked down and gathered by the Pharmacy as the Guardians' personal doctors. With their exceptional abilities at rejuvenation magic, they were able to quickly knit up wounds and restore injured Guardians to their former condition in matter of seconds.
It was a win-win situation for both parties; Guardians no longer require long recovery periods that would put them off active duty, and Alchemists were paid very well for their services.
It all changed when an Alchemist went berserk. The contract between the Pharmacy and the Organisation was still being negotiated when the incident happened, and the deranged Alchemist – a man in his mid-thirties who had been showing signs of instability during the past few days – went on a rampage, wielding his magic as a weapon and ripping innocent bystanders to shreds. He was finally apprehended, but by that time, he was a total mess, his brain leaking out of his ears as he blabbered incoherently.
The Organisation withdrew from the negotiations immediately after that, refusing to work with the Pharmacy until the reason for the rapid deterioration of the man's mental health was ascertained, in case there was a repeat.
A detailed autopsy was carried out on the Alchemist's body at the Organisation's insistence, and the results astounded the world. It was discovered that the frequent usage of their healing abilities would take a toll on their mental health, gradually wearing the brain out until it shut down in an effort to hang on to sanity, which ironically, led to insanity.
In a frantic attempt to secure the contract worth billions of dollars with the Organisation who was on the verge of pulling out, the scientists at the Pharmacy delved deeper into their research on the human mind and came up with another mind-blowing – pun intended – revelation.
They implemented it instantly as a last ditch effort, and the results were staggering.
After that, Alchemists were no longer at risk of going crazy, simple because a large part of the brain's functions were 'caged up'. The brain is much like a CPU, and if there was too much to process, it would just shut down. By removing some of its processes – those that are not vital for survival – the problem was solved. The Pharmacy got the contract signed, and everybody lived happily ever after.
Except for the Alchemists.
Because the part of their brain that was locked away in the darkest of abysses?
It was the part of them that felt and registered emotion.
