A Little Piece of Heaven
Chapter 44: What Will You Do?
I shake and shiver shifting my legs under thin stark white sheets. I'm responding quite unhappily to cold, to anxiousness, to what's happening in front of me.
To be truthful, I am envious of him. He gets to leave this room whenever he wants. Toby doesn't dare ask him questions; you could say he gets left to himself since everyone else finds his demeanor unwelcoming. I can see what they're talking about. It makes me feel absolutely delirious to see him hold my baby before I get to.
Before, it took several moments for the squatty little nurse to convince him to open his arms. I watched confused as he turned his nose at the offer to hold her. I'm not sure why he changed his mind. And oh, she looks so tiny in his arms. She's curled up and cocooned in a layer of blankets; her head supported on the bicep of his left arm. Her soft whining overtime dwindles down into a silenced sleep. The quiet that engulfs us is still and comfortable. Toby finally leaves us as we get acquainted.
I fold my arms, sighing in controlled frustration. He takes his sweet time analyzing features and drinking in the sight of her with his deliberating eyes. His eyebrows scrunch in small thought. A gentle finger, with a girth two times wider than her wrist, smooths the pale, curly purple hair a top her propped head. With the addition of another hovering finger, he moves down to sample the fresh buttery skin of her cheek. I scoot in, leaning haphazardly over the rail of my bed. I guard my sore groin and stomach with a spare arm. I move as close as I possibly can.
"Please, I need to hold her." I beg in a whisper.
Our sights meet for a long moment. He's searching for something in my face, in my eyes, but all he finds is that I'm doing the same. Slowly, excruciatingly paced, he places her in my eager arms. I ease my shoulders to support her light weight. I'm overcome with something unfamiliar, and it makes my heart flutter under my bones.
"You're so pretty." I breathe sweeping careful fingertips over her forehead. Ebony stirs sighing brokenly in her sleep. "I just want to take you home." I murmur holding her close.
Ansem makes a low sound from the back of his throat; content. I notice he's been staring the entire time. "How do you feel?" He averts his eyes towards a heavily curtained window. Swirling flurries of snow clink repeatedly against ice cold, frosted glass on the other side.
"Incredibly, unbearably sore. When can we leave?"
"They said you gave them a hard time." She comments hobbling to a comfortable edge of your bed.
"I was restless." You breathe crossing your arms over your chest. You observe from a distance as she lifts The Child into her arms, and sets her gingerly against her chest to nurse.
"You were restless? I can see how I was, but you? Please explain." She gives you a perplexed amused look and folds a blanket more around Ebony; who is busy suckling from her lactating mother.
"Your cries of agony were unnerving, and I'm quite the desensitized." You lie down on your side. You weren't feeling well, but you already knew why. You were running out of time.
She pauses for a bit, rocking her full arms. You can almost picture and name the different assortment of thoughts that were currently plaguing her head. She understands what you mean. Screams are a common thing where you venture.
"It hurts. Just in case you didn't know. So very sorry for making you...worry?" The sentence starts in light sarcasm, but quickly fades into a questionable tone. She slyly squints at you in realization. "Were you worried about me?" You grunt in response propping your elbow against a pillow. You set your cheek against the inside of your palm.
"I'll take that as a yes." She sticks out the tip of her tongue between her teeth. Her unnatural post-pregnancy chipperness was plucking unfailingly at your nerves. You didn't like it when she was too happy, but because of the particular reason for her influx of emotion, you decided to bare it. Rest assured you'd tame the unfavorable behavior later when you had the time or energy. At the moment, you had neither.
"I let you get away with far too much, don't I, dear?" You sigh closing your eyes. You train your ears to the sounds Ebony makes as she slowly becomes disinterested in her 'food'.
"I don't know what you mean." She whispers moving the hair draped over her shoulder to set the child there in its place. The next thing you hear is the paced hollow thump of a small hand against an even smaller back.
"I think you do." You open your eyes to glare. The expression she returns is soft and mindful. You'd roll your eyes if you weren't so tired.
"You never answered my question." She continues patting Ebony's back.
"And what was that?" You stretched drawn away slightly by the faint sound of Shadow Heartless scratching and squirming noisily behind pipes in the walls.
She holds a reflection of nervousness in her brown eyes. "When you said you loved me, did you mean it?" She caresses and reorganizes the thick purple curls along Ebony's forehead. "I promise to always respect you, and I'll do whatever you ask...within a limit." She clears her throat, now rubbing Ebony's back more than patting. "But, if you can, I need you to love me."
Sighing for a second time, through your nose, you give her an answer; a customary, retorting, countering question. You gave direct answers when you felt like it.
"Phoebe." You started sternly.
"Yes?" She radiated small particles of her normal uncertainty.
"Do you feel unloved?"
She could feel her face softening considerably. There was the truth. Just like that.
And the truth was:
She didn't.
Perhaps now, there was one thing on a long list she could maybe put to rest.
Ebony fills me with so much joy, even when I feel depressed. Toby says that's natural; to have so many conflicting emotions. I get the feeling that I'm irritating Ansem, but I can't help that either. I can tell he's taken a certain kind of liking to her. Though it may look like he's taken this unique interest from afar, I see he's curious and getting closer. I've also been taking note of other things. Within a day or two after birth she had started opening her eyes.
His eyes.
Just like his eyes. (Ansem's been sleeping more. Odd? I know.) She's gained a pound or so. At least, every new day I pick her up she feels a bit heavier and is constantly out-growing her clothes. (Ansem doesn't eat as much.) Two weeks later, the holidays and my mother's excessive cuddling have finally rolled by leaving a few baby toys and supplies; Ebony doesn't appear as 'new born' (Ansem watches her keenly for long periods of time). She follows me with her eyes, and can usually differentiate between mine, or her father's voice or face.
This is where I feel alarmed.
I stare absolutely confused, counting on my fingers. It's only been two weeks. I'm still sore and horribly overweight, and Toby still harasses me for check-ups, shots, follow-ups, blah blah blah. So why does my child look and act like she's at least three to four months old? I am more than a little concerned, but Ansem acts like there is absolutely nothing wrong. Per usual, he probably sees and knows something I don't. Maybe part of it comes from his side of the 'gene-pool'. Whatever that may be if it even exists.
I tap my finger against my bottom lip gazing on as Ebony struggles to roll onto her stomach. She's a weird, determined little thing. It's bad that I'm laughing, but I continue to chuckle under my knuckles. Ebony grunts in obvious frustration at being stuck on her back. A sway here. A waggle there. A bit of whining and she almost manages to turn onto her belly.
"Mmmm." This is how she calls me. Ebony whines, her eyes drifting around for my location.
"Do you need help, you wiggly little liquorish jelly bean?" I set down a stack of books in which Ansem had explicitly instructed me on removing all the paper notes from. He has the idea of vaulting or burning them all later. I assume it must be information he'd like to keep to himself. Glad to know he trusts me with something other than his personal satisfaction. Urgh. Even though I know I'll pay for it later, I can't help but thoroughly read over a few. There's also the occasional tuck of a particularly interesting report down my blouse. Which, now that I think about it, isn't a very good idea considering how touchy-feely Ansem has been.
I roll my eyes in fake annoyance. I cross a few paces to the thick quilt I'd sat her on. The cold patches of tile and carpet in the hallway sting under my bare feet, but I don't bother to slip on any shoes. Snorting, I bend down above Ebony and help her barrel onto her stomach. She keeps up with her humming to acknowledge me. "Happy?" I flash her a toothy smile making sure the clips on her black fleece jumper haven't snapped off in her struggle. I'd hate for her to be cold.
"Mmm." She lifts her head and absently gazes through me; mimicking my smile with only two teeth. She constantly has this far away, dazed expression. I'm not sure what that particular gurgle means so I slap a pacifier back in her mouth and return to note-taking.
Note-Taking.
Get it?
Any who, I rush back to my duties occasionally checking the time. Two more hours, and I should probably leave to scrounge something up for a late supper. Though Ebony will get hungry before I do, I internally rearrange things into a schedule. I sigh through my nose creating a small cloud of dust in the process. Frowning, I collect wads of dirt on my palms and busy myself with checking the less thumbed through books for any of Ansem's spare notes. There aren't many, so I move on to another row.
Volume I
Volume II
Volume III
Volume IV
Volume XIII
Suspiciously and consistently, this particular book in this series is misplaced and out of order. The cadence of my heart picks up as I slide it slowly out of place. I compress the worn black leather between my small hands and discover that it's unbalanced. There's something on the inside, and I can't evade the sensation that I must know what the something is.
"Mmm." Ebony hums in the background. I glace around to find her busy studying the pacifier she's yanked out of her mouth. Her usual far off, la-dee-da expression has taken a hold of her plump face.
"I see you, Sweetheart." I whisper shifting my eyes to corners of the library. I haven't seen Ansem in two days, but I imagine he could pop up at any time. He's also not the only one who tends to pop up out of nowhere.
"Let's see what we've got here." I ease the book open letting the crinkled, scribbled-in pages fall and divide till it stops at the center. I narrow my eyes apprehensively. In this big black book, I find a little black note. With one final look around, I set down XIII and open the cause of my interest.
I hope you haven't forgotten our last conversation, curious lass. I also assume you haven't forgotten why you are here. There was a price to correlating with me and obtaining my humble blessings. And there is a price to adoring darkness.
Your time dwindles as well as what you owe. I can trust you won't forget that.
However, when time comes to end, will you still go?
Above all other warnings and threats, keep close watch of those things you adore. Because as planned, everything is to be devoured in Xehanort's shadow.
I swallow dryly. The pitch black paper burns in my hands. A sensation consumes me and my heart stings like I've been gripped by ice cold talons. I bite my lip clenching my chest to ease the sudden aching.
Ebony gives me an unnatural gaze with no movement, no sound. Just the bright amber of her eyes and her la-dee-da expression.
"What are you trying to provoke? Your harassment is pointless." I sneer leaning my weight against a jagged slab of pale frozen blue rock. The Heartless collect out in the distance, hidden, under the misshapen row of snow toppled cliffs. They blanket the earth bellow like a carpet of tar, or perhaps volcanic ash. Heaps of them twitch in uncontrolled frenzies bounding on top of each another and resurfacing in hazardous black waves. They have already taken fragments from the heart of this world, but they thirst for more: complete destruction. I am one of them and apart, but I seek the same goal.
"Did you like the replica, Heartless?" The Nobody takes his time, unafraid of having his back turned. "It would be appreciated if you didn't mortally terminate any others. The color visibly drained from Even's face when he examined her damage. How much force did it take to fracture her cervical vertebra into ten different fragments?"
"I didn't find it charming in the least." The sharpened points of my canines dig into the soft flesh of my inner cheeks.
"Ahh, yes." The Nobody rambles on. More talking to bide his time and boil my blood. "Our replica program could use a bit of excision and perfecting. There are some things that just can't be `faultlessly replicated, but in sport, she was very good practice for when we attempt larger entities." He leisurely removes tuffs of fresh January snow from his shoulders, and sweeps icy flecks from his bangs.
"I noticed. My companion is not good sport." I steady my tone.
"Your companion is she? I didn't think you would voice any complaints. You seemed fine with experimentation before." The orange of his eyes move about in search of something much more interesting to observe other than the chaos below. His prospect trains on the Guardian, yet another Heartless, rumbling agitatedly above me, and then finally, down to rest on my blank face.
"Don't talk down on things you don't know." I squint returning the interest.
"Dearest apologies." The Nobody lifts his palms in disclaimer, shaking more snow from his hair. "If I didn't know any better, I'd say I had offended you." He smirks, I scowl.
"Are you quite done?"
"Of course, of course. I've been meaning to speak with you on another matter." He breathes into his gloves to warm his chilled fingers. "I never really liked frigid weather." He mumbles under his uncovered wrists.
"What matter might this be? If you haven't gathered this by now, I'll let you know before you waste my time. I'm not interested in your opinion." The Guardian snarls distracted by the sight of the Heartless' gathering far down below the cliffs making runny, dark puddles in the slush.
"As thought-provoking as I find the idea of you producing offspring, that's not all I wanted to speak with you about." The Nobody releases a dry, lifeless chuckle; his face pale in the unwarming, setting light that casts yellow-orange ribbons over Hallow Bastion's terrain.
"Not all, or not all mainly about?" I uncross, and re-cross my arms; resetting the order of right over left to left over right.
"More or less." He starts. "Have you gone back to see Him and show the youngest the way?"
"I'm pressed for time, Xemnas. " There is an overwhelming list of things to set in place, and I'm lucky to have personal aid in doing so about the different worlds scattered throughout the Realm of Light. It decomposes me so. Sighing, I observe an opaque patch of colored sunset that's found its way onto the tip of my boot. Puffs of steam rise from the corners of my lips and fade into the atmosphere.
"That you are." Xemnas frowns. "I offer advice as you and I are meant to be a cohort. Perhaps you can take this as an invoice to awareness, but you are distracted. Your task isn't to carry on Xehanort's other passed ondesires, even as hard as that may seem. I find myself drawn away at times by carnivorous impulses that are not of my being." He trails, more of his rambling.
"It's not your job to monitor what I do in private." I taste iron on my tongue.
"No, it isn't. My task is to gather."
"Then contain your faulty concern and put it to use elsewhere. I've had The Witch collecting the light. She believes this and the portion of Heartless I've given her command over will bring her power." I scoff.
"Then go back to see Him before the opportunity is missed. Time, it's very interesting."
"Time." I echo murmuring. A sharp wind cuts into my drained cheeks. I lick my lips watching the vapor escape and disperse in the air.
"When everything falls in place, you know you're going to have to choose. There's an unavoidable toll to defying nature." He seems to muse. I don't find it a light hearted predicament.
"But, on a different note, I look forward to seeing her likeness. Braig tells me she looks very much like you. And isn't that a remarkable observation; to hold no further resemblance to the rest of Us. I'm quite curious to know what that may infer." He goes on again without spoken thoughts I don't hear any worth listening to.
I curtly turn my back on him and leave. I hope he's offended by it.
She wakes up with a jolt. The first reason is the effect of a dream, the second, is pure maternal instinct. Her eyes are blurred at first, heart racing, and Heart burning under her rib cage. Screaming slowly fades from her ears and back into the area of her dreams. Routinely and expecting it to be nearly three o'clock at night she reaches to flick on a lamp, but finds that it is already on. Why hadn't she woken up? What about Ebony (the cause of her new routine)? Widening her eyes at a bedside clock, she discovers that it's nowhere near three o'clock, it's ten in the morning. Okay, what about Ebony?
Where was Ebony?
Her breathing turned shallow when she found her to be missing from her bed place at her left side.
"Don't Panic."
Her head whipped around to her right. Ansem gave her a knowing look, eyebrows raised, his legs crossed comfortably over the sheets, and her Ebony cradled even more comfortably in his stable arms. She turned her head (almost comedicly ) to rest her eyes on her disoriented mother; suckling lazily on the water filled bottle he tipped to her mouth. Their expressions were almost a like.
"You're welcome."
"Yeah, thanks." She plopped back down against her pillow, her body heavy and throat sore. "You should do this more often."
Author's Very Brief Note:
I think this is one of my longest chapters. It's well over 3000 words.
