Chapter 43
FlyAway
Time seemed to be crawling and the beige walls had lost any of their interest long ago. It had been quite maddening to the ghost who could only muster a sigh at the thought.
Still, she had not come back.
Tonight, although he had planned to cause a bit of mayhem, he had held off in the hope that she'd come crawling back. Why should he exert the effort if she had already come back home while he was out? Perhaps he'd try to search for her with his magic but the last time it felt like there was a door slammed in his face. Although it was a strange occurrence, his magic had always been fickle and volatile. Shrugging it off, he wasn't going to allow it to get to him too much.
Then, last night there was something odd that happened before he fell asleep but for some reason he couldn't quite recall what it was. The memory was vague and hazy, so it must not have been important.
So, for now, he'd sit here and plan but with the pattern of how today was going, he was probably going to zone out.
Unfortunately, as the time dragged on, she was all that he could think of and he had begun to miss her.
What if she wasn't coming back? What if he had gone too far this time? Too many what ifs were running circles in his mind and he didn't appreciate it one bit.
It didn't help that he couldn't escape seeing her cheerful face everywhere he looked. He couldn't evade those unblinking eyes that stared back at him from the myriad of pictures around the room. Well, at least from the ones that he didn't destroy that night in his blind fury.
After he had woke he had only gotten as far as this chair and was feeling disgustingly emotionally worn out to even move. He nebulously remembered wanting to go to the Neitherworld and talk to Juno, but again he couldn't recall why. Maybe it would come back to him, but there was no sense of urgency. So here he sat. Although, sitting wasn't exactly the proper description of what he had been doing. No, he was slumped down like he was about to melt off the cushioned chair.
With a deep sigh he bemoaned his situation. Why?!
Only she had ever understood him.
Staring past his feet were the smattering of objects that he had taken his rage out on the other day. They littered the tattered living room, yet only one item in particular kept his attention. Oh, of course, he would just happen to focus on that. Ugh.
Sitting up had taken a lot of concerted effort. Sluggishly, he walked over to the offending object. Staring, he sighed at it with the heaviest of hearts because he knew exactly what it was.
It was their wedding photo, and while he didn't want to verbally admit it, he did regret destroying it.
Lifting with fumbling fingers, he gathered the remaining pieces, but they fell apart in his hands. The bits of glass and wood fell to rejoin the remaining pieces that awaited them on the floor. Sadly, the only thing that he could salvage from the chaos and debris was the photo itself.
Returning to his spot on the chair, he began to examine how severely damaged it was. A large tear had taken off the top left corner and the rest wasn't in any better shape. There were small holes of varying sizes, but it was so horribly scratched that it was hard to see any details anymore.
His mouth went dry as his hands shook, the damaged visage made his heart sink, and the analogy was not lost on him.
Well, at least the photo was something that he could fix and with a little magic and it'd be good as new. Now If only he could find out where she was, so he could do the same to his relationship.
Waving his hand over the photo, it slowly transformed back into how it was before it was damaged. Seeing the "happy couple" looking back at him certainly wasn't helping his guilt abate.
Why in the hell did he feel guilty? She had really made him soft didn't she?
Lowering his arms, he could feel himself melting into the chair again.
What sort of self-torture was this? The more that he ignored the guilt and not think about it, the more that he wanted to lift that picture back up to his eyes. It was like it was daring him to stare at it to throw everything that happened in his face.
For as long as he could, he held off until the compulsion to look turned into a need. Once again, his arms were lead weights as he lifted the photo up. His eyes held tightly shut, even though he wanted to see it. He wanted to embrace that moment that had been frozen in time when everything had been perfect.
It was a time when everything that he had worked so hard for, all the scheming, the subtle psychological tricks, the things that took every ounce of his patience had finally paid off.
Long before that asshole of an ex had left her, Beetlejuice had toiled behind the scenes to work towards a future where she would need only him for everything. He thought that after his success in ejecting that loser, nothing could have gone wrong between them. There had been a certainty that he had secured himself into every aspect of her life and that nothing could have messed it up.
So, how could she get angry over any of that? He did it all for her! She should have been grateful.
Never did he think that she'd want to see that guy again!
Why would she when any chance that he could, he shit-talked and reminded her of the bad times that she had suffered through, only because of that douche. He had carefully reassured her with his strength, body, magic, and structured reality. He had calculated, orchestrated, curated, and used every trick that he could to control her path. She never knew… so how did this happen?!
Why? Why did she seek out that stupid breather?! He had made sure that any memory involving that dick was too painful and even then, he thought that Lydia agreed with him. Although now thinking on it, she never did say anything when he would run the memory of that asshole through the mud.
He didn't get it. He just didn't understand at all!
Opening his eyes once again to look at their portrait, Beetlejuice shot up in the seat as his stomach dropped.
The photo had reverted to its previously destroyed condition.
"What the fuck!" Clamoring, he examined the photo carefully.
Was it only his imagination that he fixed it? Had the thought of her distracted him that much? Was he that tired?!
Shaking his head, he huffed and shook the photo before he slowly swiped his hand over it. It began to glow and repair itself little by little but before it could complete, it began to revert to its original state. It was like someone had pressed rewind.
Gritting his teeth, he shifted the photo in his hand before taking a deep breath. Again, he tried but this time it had reversed much quicker. A strange panic pulsed in his being as he struggled to understand.
Rubbing his fingers over his face, he didn't even regard the stubble as he leaned forward. His eyes were locked onto it. His long dead heart pounding in his chest as he furrowed his brow while his mind puzzled over what had just transpired.
He couldn't fix the photo. It was something so simple! He could've done this without thinking even when he was a toddler!
All of that was forgotten when the familiar sound of keys in the front door made him jump up.
"Lydia! Yer back!" He couldn't help the excitement in his voice as she walked through the door.
Except, when the light flicked on, it revealed that it was Cherise, who let out a concerned exhale from the sight that was before her.
"What in the hell did ya get up to?" Grabbing her forehead, she looked around at the destruction, and then back to him. "Where's Lydia?"
His excitement transferred into utter irritation which he didn't bother to hide.
"Hell, if I know!" He sneered. "Get lost ya British bimbo! Fuck, even yer voice irritates me."
Straightening up, Cherise huffed and kicked a piece of broken wood away.
"Awright, so then accordin to ya attitude, Lydia ain't been here. I take it musta been some fight if a loser like you is wallowing in their own filth." She sniffed while narrowing her eyes at him. "So, where'd she go cause she ain't be'n answerin my calls?"
"Oh, came to gloat?! Did she send ya, cause I'm sure you know exactly where she is! Bet you hid her little secret too!" Taking a step forward BJ was ready to show the broad the quickest way to the door but not before he got some answers.
"Secret?" The confusion on her face only irritated him further.
"Don't play dumb. Yer already stupid enough! Betcha knew all about her little pretty boy she had tucked away behind my back! Where is he? I'm going to teach him a little lesson to not play with another man's toy." He growled as his anger grew with each word. His bloodlust began to percolate under his cold dead skin.
"Oh my god! What?! Are ya saying that she left you for another man?!" Cherise laughed, nearly doubling over. "Thank the stars it's jus' that! Guess she finally saw how much of a disgustin' leech ya are! Ya pig of a man couldn't keep a good woman like her happy!"
"Leech?!" And there it was, his breaking point, he wasn't going to just show her the door, he was going to show her the quickest route to the morgue. Straightening up, he cracked his neck and sneered. "Tell Satan that I say hello, ya whore!"
Lunging for her, he used his magic to hold her in place while he aimed for her heart.
The crackle of magic was barely audible as Cherise dodged his attack and rounded a kick on his behind, knocking him down.
"Oh, ya think yer all that do ya, ya fat lump? Happy ta hear she's ok but I'm overjoyed that I don't hafta pretend to like ya anymore!" She spat as he hefted himself up.
"Likewise." He snorted. His greasy blond hair covered most of his face, except for one murderous eye that flared back. As he raised his hands and readied them, she balled her fists.
"You've be'n nothin but a parasite to that saint of a woman! For years I've seen 'ow 'ard she struggled n' worked all while ya sat on ya ass and refuse to get a job. You nevah appreciated her!" Pacing, she nearly couldn't contain her adrenaline-fueled glee. "Can't trust a man who's that weak an' attacks a woman jus' cause I 'urt yer ickle widdle ego-weego!"
The babytalk was the icing on the cake for Cherise as she antagonized him further.
With a large growl, Beetlejuice swung his arm at her with all his might but with another laugh, she dodged and laid a hefty punch into his cheek. With a heavy thud, he hit the floor like a sack of potatoes.
"Ya fink jus cause Imma gurl, I ain't gonna throw han's back. Ya messed with the wrong chav!"
Her snide tone made him want to tear her apart but oddly his arms didn't want to work.
Spitting at him, she watched him carefully before she picked up her purse that she had thrown off before her punch.
"If I evah find out ya hurt me best friend, I'm gonna personally make sure your bloated corpse will make a good feast fer the crabs. Then again, maybe yer already too rotten fer them too!" Her words were like expelled sludge, as she took a moment to look at her bruised hand and then shook it.
As she pulled out her phone, she tisked before turning towards the door.
He wanted to kill her in the worst way. He wanted to make it drawn out and painful that she would be suffering even in the Neitherworld. He was going to peel her skin off her living body like a banana and make her suffer!
Still, he couldn't move his body but the pathetic little growl he bubbled out caught her attention. Hate pulsed through his body as he ever so slowly began to rise again.
Before he could get more than a couple inches off the floor, she stomped him back and kicked dirt from the fallen plant in his face.
"Thanks, fer makin' me feel bettah! Jus knowin' she dumped yer ass an' she's not hurt is given me a lotta relief. Been a while since I gottah have fun like that!" She sighed.
Huffing the dirt away, he struggled to retaliate but before he could the lights went out and the front door slammed behind her.
The dirty floor pressed and scraped on his skin as he mustered the energy to flip over. His jaw ached, and the broken glass pressed into his back as he panted, trying to get his facilities to cooperate.
"What the hell just happened?!" BJ's hollow voice asked the room as he rubbed the sore patch on his jaw. "How'd she do that?"
Normally, he could just *poof* and there wouldn't be a single scratch on him but now, now he felt his full weight. It was like gravity had a hold of him and then added several dozen pounds.
Why? First his magic was on the fritz and now he felt pain? Pain!? This was all wrong. Something was terribly wrong.
A sensation began to grow inside of him, and it felt like he was being pulled even though he wasn't moving.
He wanted to fight the feeling but as it encapsulated him, it became warmer and began to feel comfortable. It was a welcome feeling in contrast to the cold, pain, and the anger that he felt.
It felt like… her.
Closing his eyes, he relaxed and let it overtake him. All thoughts about what had just happened were already forgotten. He envisioned her tenderly wrapping her arms around him like she so often would do. How he missed her embrace so much right now. He had always enjoyed how much she loved to hug.
He let himself go, and in return, his mind finally began to find some peace in the slumber that he slipped into.
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"Allen, I think I'm ok to walk." Lydia mumbled and lowered her head as they passed a person in the hallway.
Allen nodded to the neighbor as he pushed Lydia in the wheelchair towards the direction of his apartment's front door.
"I'm really not comfortable with that." His quieted voice was firm and silenced any further objections.
Fumbling for his keys, he unlocked the door and wheeled her into the living space.
Petting her own hair, she watched him carefully. She felt fine, for the most part, except for the lingering exhaustion under the surface.
Leaning against the kitchen counter, he folded his arms and watched her while deep in thought.
The minute of silence felt like hours but when she opened her mouth to break the peace, he spoke.
"I'm going to call into work and tell them that I have a family emergency. I don't want to risk anything happening to you while I'm away."
Her body flushed as she felt the heat burn her cheeks. She couldn't look at him as she protested but he didn't accept it.
"I cannot, under good conscience allow you to undergo this process without medical supervision. Lydia, I'm sure you already understand the risks. If I'm here, maybe I can help in some way."
Bowing her head, she silently nodded which prompted him to reach for his phone.
As he spoke on the phone, the wheelchair held no comfort underneath her. Its pleather-like seat wasn't meant for long-term sitting and she wanted to get up and go sit on the soft couch. Her eyes longingly regarded to it and the pile of blankets still upon it. Looking back to Allen, who's back was turned to her, she took the opportunity to change seats.
Turning around, still on the phone, Allen rushed over and aided Lydia to the couch. A dabbling of anger bubbled in her at the kid-glove treatment.
"I'm not a child nor am I incapable of walking!" She grumbled. "Just let me walk on my own!"
Lifting his hands off her, he let her find a place on the couch, but his eyes never left her.
Opening a drawer, he pulled out a notebook and a pen. Taking a seat next to her, he finished his conversation on the phone before addressing her.
"I've thought it over and with your permission, I am going to start documenting anything that may help us predict any patterns or changes."
"Great. So, now I'm just some sort of science experiment to you." She huffed, falling back into the cushion.
"No. Of course, you're not. I just want to help. Do you not want me to?" His brow furrowed as the concern in his voice stamped out any embers of anger within her.
"No… it's fine." She sighed out.
"In that case, I'll need to ask you for honesty when I question you. I'll need to be able to document any feelings or symptoms. I'm sure it may feel redundant asking you these questions each time but there is a method to it. Does that make sense to you?" Pulling his glasses out of his shirt pocket, he rested them on the bridge of his nose and looked to her.
Shifting in the cushion, she nodded to him, although she wasn't angry, the irritation didn't go away, especially when he asked for her honesty.
"You sure?" He leaned forward but saw how vaguely she pulled back. Returning to his previous posture he cleared his throat.
"What do you want to ask, doc?" She dryly answered while folding her arms.
Clicking the pen, he pressed the tip to the paper and then wrote something down.
"Do you feel different in anyway? Do you feel like you have any power or anything coming on?" He questioned while scritching the pen on the paper.
"Not really. I'm tired, but what's new? Like, I don't feel anything weird." Looking away, she tried to slyly look at what he was writing but couldn't see.
"Ok. Thank you. Earlier, did you notice any signs or symptoms that happened before you passed out?" His eyes looked to her past the top of his glasses without lifting his head.
Making a noise and shaking her head she relaxed a little. Maybe it was his energy or how his apartment was set up, but something felt comforting about this.
"I'll have more questions for you but for now I would like you to get some rest. I'll be observing you and will let you know if there is anything I notice. If there are any changes, even something that is a little different, something innocuous that you wouldn't regard on a normal day, I'd like to know."
"Ok, but I don't know how I'd be able to know that." She shrugged and watched as he set the note pad to the side.
"One last question, and I'm sorry that it may be the roughest one yet…" He shifted to better face her and she stiffened. "Are you hungry?"
Letting out a large exhale, she laughed and nodded. His attempt at humor was a welcome treat in the moment and her nerves began to loosen.
Jumping up, Allen stepped into the kitchen area and began to pull out the makings for soup.
She felt warmed from the inside already. The simple normality helped the stiffness shuffle away. Unaware of the grin on her face, she watched him prepare the food until he noticed, and she looked away.
"Hey… can I confess something?" She mumbled while rubbing the top of her hand with the other.
"Of course."
"I feel really silly. Like I'm making all of this up."
Stopping everything, he looked to her with what she could interpret as sympathy.
"In my line of work, you will find that the real problems are never the visible ones. Just because we can't see what's going on, doesn't mean something isn't happening, even if you feel normal right now. That's why I've been insisting on using the wheelchair if we go anywhere."
"But I can walk and using it makes me feel…" She protested but was cut off.
"There's nothing to be ashamed of. Wheelchairs are there to serve a purpose and if anyone judges someone for using it, then that's on them. Do you know how many patients refuse to use one before it's too late because they felt silly?" He eyed the objects in front of him before looking directly at her.
She gave a slight nod of acknowledgment while feeling like a child in that moment.
"Look, it'll be fine. Maybe I'm overstepping but I'm going to assume that you've never really had anyone else taking care of you and that this probably feels odd." He gave her a glance while assembling the soup and turning on the stove.
She didn't answer him but internally she felt a tinge of shame. He was probably right. After all, she was used to being someone else's caretaker. She couldn't clearly remember how it was when she was with Allen, but she wanted to believe that it was equal… was it? Her life with Beetlejuice was always a whirlwind and she could only remember Allen being a quiet spot in all of that.
Beetlejuice.
The pain from just thinking about him welled up like a spring. She fought it, as the prickling ate away at her and washed over her skin. She didn't want to cry but her throat started to tighten, a big tell that the tears were soon to follow. The rush of white noise filled her ears as she struggled to swallow down her feelings.
Allen poured the soup into two bowls before lifting them. He noted the silence and was surprised to see Lydia's skin had a faint glow.
A panic filled within him as he began to rush to her while calling her name. As she lifted her head to look at him, a spark of light filled the room before colors circled around her.
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The quietness in the room wasn't all that unusual. Allen was used to that. His time alone was a welcome hug versus the busy world outside. He was never one to like chaos and so in this space, his space, he made sure that everything was exactly where it should be. Each object had been carefully chosen and placed with care. Sure, he was a sentimental person and there were bits and pieces throughout his apartment that evoked fond memories, but he didn't like to dwell on such things.
Right now, was a different story. Since finding Lydia again, his life had turned into one whirlwind after another but oddly, he didn't find himself disturbed by it like he normally would.
However, in this moment something was terribly wrong as he lifted himself off the clean wooden floor to sit on his knees. These episodes were going to be hard on him and he prayed that neither of them got concussed when they unexpectedly passed out from the surge. His eyes didn't want to focus, and his head ached, not like his typical migraines but similar to when they would begin to creep in and tease at their imminent return. By his side were his glasses, broken but worse yet was the splatter of red everywhere and the shards of ceramic from the broken soup bowls.
It was then that it hit him… Lydia.
Whipping around in the spot, he spied Lydia asleep on the couch looking as comfortable as can be. With a sigh of relief his moment of panic abated as he got to his feet to check in on her.
As he reached for her it was then that he noticed a sharp pain and the blood. On his right hand, his palm had a large gash which throbbed like a heartbeat and burned. Looking back, he noted that it must've been from the bowls when they shattered. Shaking his head, he didn't have time for this and instead he focused on her. Gently shaking her shoulder, he called her name. There was no response, but she didn't appear injured in anyway. Taking her vitals, he quickly scribbled down as much information as he could in the notepad. His hand hurt as he did so but again, this was not important.
Once more, he tried to rouse her, but her face indicated a contentedness that helped ease his concern. Only then did he feel comfortable enough to leave her side to take care of his own injury.
Setting his medical bag down next to the couch, he made sure to have it at the ready for anything unplanned or unexpected. Pausing, he acutely listened to her deep breathing for any sign of changes. Nothing yet.
Turning back to the chaos on the floor, he smiled before he gathered the stuff needed to clean up what was before him. Cleaning was a predictable monotony and he found respite in the chore. It gave his mind the freedom to explore thoughts in different ways while exerting energy in making a space pristine.
He must've missed some of the signs that it was going to come on. What was the trigger if there was one? Was it random? Why was he pulled into it too? He couldn't remember anything besides seeing the light show and then waking up. Was it like that for her? Why did it knock him out? Was it a safety precaution, a failsafe to protect the one undergoing the changes? That would make sense but still he wasn't sure. There were too many unanswered questions that might never be known. According to Lydia, this had never happened to a mortal. He wished that he knew what the normal process was like for those it was intended. Maybe there was a way for Lydia to find out.
Sopping up and cleaning the floor, he continued to let his mind work out different ideas, but the sound of movement made him stop and turn back.
"Allen? Did I fall asleep? I didn't think I was that tired. Hold on… What happened in here?" Lydia's groggy eyes darted around to the nearly scrubbed mess and cleaning products. "Wait… did it… did it happen again?"
"Yes. Do you remember anything before you passed out or anything after?" Allen wrung out the washcloth into the bucket before setting the rag on the edge of it.
Thinking on it, she shook her head, and he could see the disappointment on her face.
"I'm sorry. I know it's not helpful at all."
"No, it's ok. Knowing that is also helpful too. How do you feel?" Picking up the shards, Allen tossed them into the wastebin and removed the rubber gloves while walking back to her.
"I, uh, guess I feel fine. Oh! I do recall one thing. It doesn't seem that important now that I think about it…" Running her hands through her hair she blinked as though she was struggling to recall something.
"Again, anything helps." Sitting down by her side, he picked up the notepad and pen.
"I, uh, felt warmth. Like I was in a bath. Isn't that silly?" She giggled nervously before pausing and then sat up straight. Grabbing his arm, she yanked his now treated and wrapped right hand up to her face. "Hold up… What happened to your hand?"
"Oh, it's not important. I must've got a scrape from the shards from the bowl. It doesn't really hurt that much." He lied before smiling back to her. "I apologize if I overstepped any boundaries, but I took your vitals while you were asleep. I promise you that it was strictly professional. I'll need to take them again, if you allow me to, but I'd like to do it while you're awake."
Slowly letting go of his arm, she nodded.
"I just don't want to be a burden or hurt you. I suppose I should have given verbal permission for that. You can, I mean, for you to take my vitals or check on me when I'm, uh, I guess we can call it… asleep? I really do feel like a science experiment." She said in a long-drawn-out sigh.
"Do you think you'll be able to stand?" He stood and offered his uninjured hand to her.
"I guess. I dunno, but I think I can." Looking down to her legs she wiggled them before looking back up to him.
"I'm here to catch you if you fall." He reassured her, hoping that his smile was enough.
Taking his hand, she stood with ease.
"Looks like my legs work. Here, I'll walk for you." She giggled out but still firmly held his arms.
"Just don't push yourself. It's ok if you need my help." Gently releasing her, he took a step back before moving the coffee table out of the way. "I'll stand here. I'd like you to walk over to where I am."
She couldn't help but laugh at how she felt like a toddler as she took a long stride in his direction.
"See, I'm a big kid now!" She snickered out and gave a quick twirl.
Folding his arms, he watched as she giggled and spun in the space before him. Her happy face was a relief to see after everything she had been through. Her long hair trailed her joyous movements as her spin turned into a semi-waltz. As she lifted her hands to the air, a small crackle was faintly audible, and the tiny sparkles that began to bubble around her weren't hard to miss.
"Lydia, quickly, sit down!" He rushed over and grabbed her by the sides to direct her to the couch. "It's happening again."
"What?"
The startled look of confusion on her face was the last thing that he saw.
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'are you ok?' his voice echoed in her ears.
"You're such a worry wart…" Lydia mumbled.
'are you ok?' Again, the faint echo asked but it didn't sound like him anymore.
"Yes. I'm perfectly ok." Opening her eyes, she wanted the questioning to end so she could enjoy the weightlessness of this moment.
'are you ok…' the voice faded away joining an indiscernible murmur that flowed around her.
Turning her head, she sought to find any source for the voices but the warmth that surrounded her quelled any curiosity. Vibrant colors flowed around, like blending paint, her naked form floating in what she could only perceive to be an endless expanse of color.
Above her was an infinite sky of warm pastels. What she thought were clouds evaporated in and out as they gently wafted across the vastness.
Cradling her soul gently, the colors faded any lingering emotion until she felt nothing. She was part of the scenery and it didn't bother her in the slightest.
She was like a buoy floating in the ocean that ceaselessly but tenderly rocked her back and forth in the waves.
All she desired was to be a color in the mix. She allowed hues to seep into her heart and let the peace fill her.
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Warmth, comfort, softness, and a delicate but familiar scent that he couldn't place filled Allen's senses as he faded into consciousness.
Lifting his head off her lap, he gave space between them while he got his bearings. Thankful that he was able to direct Lydia onto the couch, he didn't expect to collapse onto her when the rush hit. Waking from the surge was a feeling that he could only liken to the buzz that one would get from liquor.
Swiftly grabbing his pen and paper, he began to write all the information that he could note. Pausing, he found that his hand wasn't throbbing anymore. In fact, it felt fine. How odd.
Flexing his fingers and gripping his palm, he discovered that there was not even the hint of pain. This wasn't normal.
Quickly unwrapping the bandage, he was shocked to find that the only sign of injury was the remnants on the wrappings. No scar, no pain, no hint that anything had even happened.
Checking the date and time on his phone, he verified that there wasn't a time skip so the only explanation he could come up with was… this was magic.
Jotting that down, he then focused on trying to wake Lydia but again, she did not stir.
Sitting up, he turned and unfixed his gaze into the living space which was slowly filling with the warm tones of the sunset. This day was going by quickly, but that was no surprise when he lost swaths of time during unconsciousness. That was the third incident today and the time between these episodes were becoming less and less. That could only mean that the next would happen within the hour. Maybe he could calculate an exact pattern for predicting when it would take effect so he could prepare them and prevent any injuries? He'd do the math, but first…
Looking back to Lydia, resting quietly on the blankets, any other person would have assumed she was in a peaceful slumber… but what was really going on underneath the surface?
"Lydia?" He questioned while reaching out to her knee but stopped.
His hand was healed but what about her injuries? Was it just him?
Looking at her thin legs, his sweatpants were loose on her but not baggy. It helped that he was lean so she could temporarily share his clothing, but the sweatpants weren't loose enough to comfortably lift above her knees so he could take off the medical dressings. Not being able to get to them would be an issue but in the meantime, he could at least look at her arm.
Lifting her slender arm, he studied where the inflamed welt should have been. Pressing, exploring, and testing the area he found it to be as it had been before the injury.
Smiling to himself, it made him feel better that she wouldn't have to worry about breaking that fracture. Carefully returning her arm back to its previous position, he looked back to her knees. Risking waking her, he felt over the pants where the bandages were wrapped. She didn't react in the slightest and unfortunately he couldn't gauge any extent of damage or healing by touch alone.
He needed to analyze her further, but would she be comfortable with him doing so? Although earlier she did give him permission to examine her.
With a sigh, he decided on making her more comfortable and going from there.
Carefully scooping her up into his arms, he carried her to his bed and gently laid her down. Not once did she stir or even make a sound.
Rifling through his closet, he found what he was looking for. It was a plain white t-shirt that should, by his guesstimation, fit her with plenty of room to spare. He then dug out a pair of light cotton shorts. These should work nicely and would be more comfortable for her to sleep in.
With as much respect and dignity, he undressed her quickly and garbed her in the fresh clothing. With her legs now bare, he removed the bandages from her knees and marveled at how pristine they were. No scarring, no redness, simply perfect unflawed skin.
"Alright, time to log this information." He spoke to her sleeping form. "I'm going to go grab my papers and maybe I can figure out when the next episode will happen."
Stepping through the door and into the nearly dark hallway, Allen noticed a light beginning to throb and glow behind him. Spinning around, he once again saw balls of light begin to swell around Lydia's body. Growing and popping, they sparked and dissipated into the space around her. Quickly rushing back, he only made it as far as the doorway before a roar of exploding energy burst forth. A pull from the shockwave nearly knocked him over but he held tight onto the door's frame. Clenching his eyes shut, he prepared for the fall, that never seemed to come. Opening them cautiously, he marveled at the streaming rainbow of colors that were beginning to absorb into her glowing, still form.
Unsure of what his eyes were beholding, he gripped the doorframe and observed the magical firestorm. His mind reeled while trying to make sense of what he was witnessing. Magic like this was something that most mortals couldn't imagine, and he felt fortunate but cautious to have a front row seat to the spectacle. Bursting fireworks of energy popped and blasted with a brilliant sparkle sucked into her body. The display was loud and blustery, like a multicolored tornado in a broom closet he was in awe of this force of nature. He had never seen the likes of a light show like this. Neon colors shifted and changed, warming, and cooling the area as they strobed and rumbled around the room. The roar, fizzles, and explosions filled his ears, as the different energies whizzed into the room, and his eyes greedily couldn't get enough of the magnificent visuals before him. It was electric, pricking at his skin and sending tingles through his soul and it felt like his own personal pyrotechnic show, but the awe didn't last long.
This had a high probability of killing her and his stomach dropped from that thought. Sobering up, he ruminated on the different probabilities and outcomes. She was absorbing a powerful and unknown magic, and no one knew how this could turn out. Hating not being able to know all the consequences, he resolved to prepare for anything could possible. How could a human… or should he say mortal body take on this kind of energy? What exactly were the limitations that a mortal could absorb? Was her body compatible with the energy? Was this going to be happening for the rest of her life? If not, how long would the whole process take before it was completed?
On top of it, how safe was he? Why did he not pass out like he had before?
Unsure of what he could do, he risked stepping into the room to approach her.
.
.
.
Floating in the sea of nothingness, Lydia listened to the murmur of voices. Like waves, their emotions changed with the tide.
Sometimes she could hear the intonations, but never could she understand what they said. As they washed over her, she let the emotions in. Familiar, yet foreign, they began infusing within her.
Free of reality and time, she dissolved into the colors and went with the flow.
The ocean of voices welcomed her in.
On the horizon, a palette of night rolled in like a storm, darkening the space she was in. Thundering, angry, hate filled voices filled the storm clouds and lit up the expanse with light with each outburst. Emotions rained down upon the surface and blended with the water.
Insane laughter erupted out of her as the extreme emotions possessively grabbed at her liquid form. Acquiescing to them, they entered and ravaged her with a passion she had never known. It was unpredictable and violent, but it didn't trouble her.
She belonged to it.
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.
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The dark purple, fluffy clouds were gilded and warmly glowing from the golden hue of the evening sun as they slowly floated by. Earlier, a small storm had meandered its way through Providence, drenching everything below with a short burst of heavy rain, before deciding to make its way out to the sea.
Allen watched, as a rogue water droplet trickled down the side of the window, until snagging another droplet and merging. Greedily, it continued engorging itself with other droplets that happened to be caught in its path. When it couldn't bear its own weight anymore it broke away, creating a wobbly path down the window and moved along the small wet highways that decorated the glass pane.
It had been unseasonably cold lately, so this rain was a nice change of pace. It was supposed to be spring, but it certainly didn't feel like it. Normally, around this time of year, the daffodils happily shared their sunny faces, brightening up the monotonous scenery. The cheery yellow petals were a welcome sight they carried with them hope in the human subconsciousness. Still, even they refused to leave their comfy homes in the soil.
Earlier, he had cranked open the large industrial window by the headboard to let the fresh air in and clear out the staleness that was stifling the whole apartment. Often, he would enjoy sitting on the cement ledge and watch as storms would pass through and today was no exception. The small rainstorm had a palpable energy to it, as if it were cleansing away the build-up and filth that had begun to stagnate from winter overstaying her welcome.
But, as the sun began to set, the chill became too much, and he was once again forced to close all the windows. He looked forward to the time when it would be warm enough to keep them open. It made him feel claustrophobic when there wasn't fresh air. He really was a summer person through and through. Not to say that each season didn't have their charm but there was something about summer that made him feel... comfortable.
Hopping down off the cement wall, he landed softly by the side of the bed. Turning his attention to see if maybe the noise had woken her, he observed that she was still in the same position that she had been in all day just as the day before. Even to him, it was disturbing to see her stay motionless for so long.
By now, he had recognized when a spell would come on and learned that he could be unaffected by being in the doorway. Perhaps doorways really did represent portals? That was the only place where he would be safe from the effects.
When the spells would come on, they were amazing to behold. In short bursts the swirls of color would spill in from the nothingness and fill the room. The currents of energy were visible to the naked eye and that was when she would begin to glow. He learned quickly that if he happened to be near it and the magic touched him it would cause him to pass out.
Thankfully, the episodes had become less frequent, but she was not waking in between them anymore.
Still, he worried, even though she appeared to be perfectly healthy.
Everything in this moment reminded him of the story of Snow White. The fair princess, with skin white as snow, lips red as blood, and hair as black as ebony, lay still as death in the bed. For she had tasted the poison apple, given to her from the haggard old woman, never once distrusting anyone and that had been her downfall. Now, she would wait for all time until true love's kiss broke the spell.
With that visual left in his mind, he needed to step away and get something to eat. Even though his stomach had been berating him all day, he didn't want to pull himself away from her just in case she woke up or needed him.
Before he walked into the darkness of the apartment, he gave another critical glance to examine her, but everything was the same as it was earlier.
He really hoped that this wouldn't be "For all time" like in the fairytale. There were no Prince Charming here to save her. Still, he found that he was partial to the story of Rose Red anyways.
Percolating coffee sang its bubbly tune as he lifted the toast, sprinkled with hagelslag to his mouth. Savoring the butter as it mixed with the dark chocolate, he wished that he had the foresight to brew the coffee sooner. The sweet treat would have complimented the bitter drink, but he was too famished to wait for it. Nevertheless, it wouldn't hurt to make another slice of toast if he were still hungry.
It wasn't long before he poured some of the dark liquid that had been keeping him going more than he would like to admit. Thankful that he still had half of his toast, he could now fully enjoy the medley of ingredients.
"Mmmm." The nostalgic flavors brought back memories while the black coffee helped wash it down.
Another soft "mmmm" echoed back to him and sitting up he listened carefully.
Nothing.
Perhaps he misheard, but to cover his bases he needed to go check on her.
Stepping into the quiet bedroom he was greeted with the familiar sight as he sat in the chair by her side.
"Lydia? Did you need anything." He asked her unmoving form.
Still in the same position as before, her pattern of deep breathing had not changed.
"Here we go." He whispered as he took her pulse and looked to his watch. If she had woken up, even for a little bit, her heartbeat would have elevated. "Hmm. Breathing rate at 13 and pulse… close to 70. It's consistent to my previous notes."
Folding his arm, he stared down at his companion, feeling perplexed and helpless. Uncomfortable in not being able to assist her, he smoothed out the wrinkles in the comforter around her. What more could he do?
Pondering his interactions with her, a thought crossed his mind. It was clear that since finding each other again, she constantly doubted any of his offers and actions. Did he come off as duplicitous? The urge to prove himself had compelled him on. Unwilling to give up, he longed for her to know that he was genuinely her friend. But why? The only answer that he could come up with was: She had been his only friend in this whole universe. Why would he not want that friendship back?
Satisfied, his eyes refocused on her face. There was something nearly indiscernibly different from before. Bending down, he moved a stray hair off her forehead. Surmising that the breeze from the open window must have blown it out of place, he took the opportunity to check her temperature. No sooner did his palm touch her skin, a deep blush spread across her face and her lips parted.
"Mmmmmm."
That was exactly what he heard before. It had to have been her. As quickly as it started, her face returned to normal like nothing had happened. Daring to see if it would happen again, he gently placed his hand on her forehead.
Sure enough, the results were the same.
"Lydia? Are you awake?" He doubted while searching for any other reasoning, but nothing was externally obvious.
Quickly grabbing his note pad, he began to scribble down his discovery. It had appeared to be a stimulus change and, hopefully, it was a good thing. Deciding to repeat the experiment, he was rewarded the same result.
Leaning back in his chair, he observed and contemplated everything about her. There was a similarity to something but what? What did this whole scenario remind him of? Tapping the pen to his lips, he continued to try to recollect what exactly wanted to come forward.
"OH! Allen, look! It's a chrysalis!" Lunging forward, Lydia picked up the small piece of chopped milkweed that the defenseless cocoon was attached to and holding it out for him to receive.
Accepting it, Allen's heart nearly leapt out of his chest and wanted to ease the worry painting her face.
"I'm glad you found it. Who knows what would have happened if we weren't the ones walking along this road, it may have been squished! It isn't easy to spot in these freshly mowed weeds!" Lifting it up, he examined it closer. "Ah! Good. It doesn't look to be damaged to me."
Giving it back, she held it close to her heart and provided it a loving smile before turning her face to his. Leaping forward, she hugged him while delicately cradling the cocoon in her hand.
"I'm so thankful you understand how valuable something as simple as this is. Most people don't care about bugs. They'd rather squish anything that isn't pretty to them." Nuzzling into his chest, she sighed, and he could hear the warm smile in her words.
"All life is amazing and plays their part in the grand scheme of things. Besides, what sort of person would I be if I didn't aid in protecting something so helpless and defenseless?" After gently placing a kiss on her forehead, they separated to hold hands, and continued their leisurely walk back to his house.
"Allen, you should come over as soon as you can! The chrysalis has started to change. I want you here when it emerges. I want to free it with you!" Lydia's excited voice brought pure joy to his ears as he listened to her discovery through the phone's receiver.
"I'd love that! I can't come over right now, but I don't have any classes tomorrow, so I can probably visit after you get out of school." Leaning on the frame for the screen door, he looked out to the orchard with a love-sick smile.
"Guess what? Miss Shannon gave us a half day! SO… Did you want to pick me up at school? We will be released at 11:45." His heart blossomed listening to her voice. He loved her so much!
"I'll be there with bells on!" He laughed.
"If it was Beetlejuice saying that, then he would have literally showed up with bells." A happy giggle met his ears.
"Well, then it's a good thing I don't have that problem!" Lightheartedly joking in return, he couldn't imagine having such a power.
Lifting the jar, the monarch inside sluggishly moved its wings and Lydia marveled at the tiny details on its delicate body.
"Looks like she's almost ready." Allen remarked as he scooted closer to her on the edge of the sundeck. Leaning in he watched the butterfly's movements as he held two popsicles in his hands.
"Yeah!" Happily taking the offered popsicle, she carefully lowered the glass into her lap. Watching it carefully, she began to suck on the tip of the lolly.
Wrapping an arm around her, he did the same.
"Wash your faborite favor?" She asked while sucking on the cold treat and readjusting the jar.
"Orange. What's yours?" Holding it out, he displayed his orange popsicle that had already begun to dye his lips and tongue.
"Purple!" she jubilantly answered before touching their popsicles together.
Suddenly, the butterfly fluttered and tapped against the glass, prompting Lydia to shove the popsicle in her mouth and lift the jar with both hands.
"ISH EDDY!" She slurred out.
"Here, you open it, and I'll hold this." Seizing the popsicle from her mouth, he held it while laughing.
Licking her lips, she thanked him while slowly turning open the metal lid.
Offering the jar to the sky, it didn't take long for the butterfly to find the exit and flap into the air.
Setting the jar to the side on the deck, she took her popsicle back, all the while watching the butterfly flitter away towards the valley and covered bridge.
"Bye bye little butterfly! Have a good life!" She waved and leaned on Allen's shoulder.
"I've been thinking about it since we found the cocoon, but what if people are like butterflies?" He pondered as he tailed the butterfly with his eyes.
"What do you mean?" Curious, she asked as she put the popsicle in her mouth and contemplated.
Thoughtfully lifting his head to the sky, he watched a sizeable cloud float by and cover the sun. It darkened the landscape as he searched for the words.
"Well, I mean, we all start out crawling along hoping to survive. Hoping that all we do will be worth it and good in the end. Then, we start changing because of our environment, experiences, and the people that we meet. I suppose that it can be good or bad and those things stay with us if we allow it."
Turning to get a better look at her, his long blonde hair played in the gentle breeze. Watching the display, she took in his reflections as he continued to speak.
"I suppose after that we need some time to recharge and reflect. So, we create a safe place to cocoon ourselves away, to grow into the people we allow ourselves to become. It's when we are most vulnerable that we must trust in the harsh world. That is the real time that we truly melt away, process, and morph into something new." Weighing each word, he tucked a rogue lock behind his ear. Before he continued, he adjusted on the hard wooden deck and gazed into the expanse of the cloud dappled sky.
"Then, one day, we burst out of our cocoon ready to face the world and spread our wings. Each of us different and maybe some of us come out as moths and others as butterflies. Sure, the moth is looked down upon in comparison to the butterfly, but it doesn't mean either is less magnificent. Regardless, if we are a moth or butterfly, we need to find those who appreciate, love, and wouldn't want us to change who we are."
Taking a moment to let his thoughts continue to stew, a small warm gust pushed past them and he nodded to himself.
"Sometimes, a breeze might sweep you away, or knock you down but no matter how tattered those wings may be, they're still beautiful. They still have a purpose and importance because both do their part to pollinate during the night and day to make this world more dazzling." For a moment he paused and remembered a quote. "The web of life is a mingled yarn, good and ill together…"
Coming back to reality, he recognized that Lydia had become unusually quiet and turned his attention to her. Absentmindedly she watched the panoramic countryside when the sun returned and bathed its light over them. It chased the drifting clouds away over the countryside like boats floating over the ocean, leaving nothing but a clear blue canvas. Slowly blinking back into the moment, she tilted her head to look at him.
"That was so poetic." Blown away by his words she eyed him in admiration. "You should write that down!"
"Nah, it was just a passing thought." He replied, but quickly tried to lick up the sticky sweet trails from his popsicle that dripped down his hand. Knowing that he had talked too long and not attended to it, it was quick to melt in the warm air.
"So, am I a butterfly or a moth?" With purple stained lips she smiled, and he noted that her popsicle was nearly gone.
"You are a you, and I will always love the you, that's you!" Leaning forward with a smirk he met her nose with his. A joyful laugh bubbled out from them and the moment felt like it could have been sparkling with a divine light.
Pulling himself out of the memory, there was a smile painted on his face. The faint reminiscence of those emotions lingered but the emptiness inside swallowed it, leaving him once again numb. As his smile faded, he looked over to his still friend on the bed.
"Well, little butterfly. Rest up until you're ready to spread your wings."
Moving from the chair to sit on the bedside, he couldn't forget the warning within the contract that she had signed. It hung over him and he didn't want it to be a possibility, but he knew more than anything how fragile the human body could be.
Tenderly touching her forehead, he sighed heavily as she responded with the same behavior from before. Pulling back, he stood but tried to understand himself. He felt nothing for her, but she was his friend. No, he felt nothing except his will and duty to humankind. So why did he feel compelled to go above and beyond for her? Even if he wanted to feel anything, he was left incapable of such things. For that, he was glad.
"Just don't die. Ok? Butterflies need to shine brightly in the sun and moths are there to help in the moonlight, even if you don't see them." He whispered as he resolved that he would stay by her side for as long as she needed him.
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.
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A kaleidoscope of emotions battered Lydia's being. Voices screamed, wailed, laughed, moaned, spoke, and whispered around her until they became her own.
Letting the world drain into her fiber, she took it all. Moaning and writhing, it worked her body roughly and she was in bliss. Opening her arms and legs, she welcomed in the contrasting colors.
With one last sensual moan she jolted up and opened her eyes.
Before her was Allen sitting bolt upright to attention in the chair by the bed. With messy hair, wide eyes, and the imprint of his palm still on his cheek indicated that she had thrust him awake. Blinking, he hopped over the bedside and began to automatically take her vitals.
"Are you ok? You've never woken from an episode like that before."
Mumbling incoherently, she struggled with words which felt foreign and hard to comprehend as her heart beat like a jackhammer.
Swallowing down, she was able to nod as he carefully analyzed her eyes.
"You're feverish. Let me grab you a cool washcloth."
Watching him sprint to the bathroom, she ran a hand over her face and felt the beading sweat on her skin. Taking in deep breaths, she steadied herself and by the time Allen returned she was able to lay back on the plush pillow.
Dabbing the sweat off her forehead, he continued to study her while she stared at the ceiling. The coolness of the rag was welcome and refreshing, but the surface of her skin was akin to putting water on a hot skillet. Running her tongue on the roof of her mouth, it stuck, and she struggled to wet it.
"How are you feeling?" He asked folding the cool washcloth and setting it upon her forehead.
Finally, able to make words she hoarsely but softly spoke.
"I hurt… all… over. Gotta… pee."
"I see." He nodded before thinking on it. "Why don't I start a tepid bath for you. That may help your pain and possibly bring down your fever. Did you want me to help you?"
Feeling heavy, she lifted herself with his assistance until her legs dangled over the edge of the bed. By that time, she was beginning to feel stronger.
"I think I might be able to do it myself. A bath does sound lovely." Looking to the bathroom, a trickle of sweat narrowly missed her eye and she wiped it away.
"Alright, but first I'd like to see how well you walk. Do you think you'll be willing to eat anything?" Standing, Allen moved to the foot of the bed.
"Ok. Yeah, I'm starving." Taking a deep breath, she stared at the floor and mentally prepared herself in case she wasn't as strong as she thought.
Stepping down, her legs trembled but held her upright. Taking a shaky step towards him, she watched as he extended his arms and bent his knees to prepare himself for the worst. With each step she became stronger, but her body wouldn't cool down. There was a fire within her veins.
"Alright. That's good. Just like that." Allen took a step back as she approached.
"Satisfied?" Stopping, she put her hands on her hip, but her head still felt floaty. Still confident that she wouldn't fall, she finally smiled to him.
"Yes I am." He nodded before leaving to fill the bathtub.
Looking through the doorway, she watched as he began to draw a bath in the big double-slipper bathtub. As he reentered and stood by the door to the hallway, the scent of lavender wafted to her senses. Rubbing her temples, she tried to ease the pulsing pain that radiated throughout her body, but to no avail.
"It will be ready for you in a couple minutes. I added some Epsom salt with lavender to help ease any aches or pains that you may have. Did you want me to wait here while you take a bath?"
"Please, no. If I need help, I'll call out to you." Turning her head, she listened to the water rushing and filling the tub, the pressure to pee was still just as strong.
"Ok. I have some ibuprofen in the left-hand drawer over there. It should help bring that fever down. Here, I'll get you a glass of water so you can take it and then I'll leave you to it." Pointing to the desk to the right side of the bathroom door, he directed her eyes to it before he took off down the hall.
Pulling open the drawer, the small bottle of pills rattled amongst the assorted papers, letters, notes, and pens. Setting the bottle on the desk's top, she began to push the drawer shut but abruptly stopped. A cold rush followed by a wave of heat flushed through her body.
There, amongst the letters was a familiar but now worn folded piece of paper.
Shakily lifting and unfolding the parchment she recognized her handwritten note that she had lovingly tucked away so many years ago into his favorite book. Its edges were soft from wear, but there was not a single extra crease or tear.
Swallowing the knot that had formed in her throat, she reread her desperate prayer that she had put to paper. Each word pushed her heart further and her head pounded as she kept the tears from forming. Finally, she came to the end and that's when she saw it. By her words "My love for you will never waver." he had written, "There will never be anyone else for me but you."
Footsteps coming down the hallway caused a panic within her as she hastily refolded and returned the note. Slamming the drawer shut, she spun around in time to see Allen stepping into the room with a glass of water.
"Are you ok? You're shaking." Quickly rushing to her side, he began to reach out to check her temperature, but she pulled away before he could touch her.
"No. I'm ok!" Forcing a smile, she took a step away from him but not before she snagged the glass of water.
"Are you sure? Were you able to find the ibuprofen?" Turning his attention to the desk she was quick to move in front of it.
"Yup, no problem. Got them right here. See?" Nervously shaking the bottle in his face, she was relieved when he took a step back. Opening it in one go, she then displayed the pills in her hand before quickly swallowing them down with a swig of water. "I'm going to hop in the bath now."
Making her escape, she swiftly shut the bathroom door behind her and turned on the light. As she sat on the toilet, her heart ached in a way that she didn't know it could do anymore. Those feelings of losing him were still raw which oddly made her feel angry. Why?
Washing her hands, she looked up to her reflection and noticed that she was in different clothes. What was he thinking when he had undressed and seen her naked while she was asleep? She was vulnerable and who knows what sort of ideas he had rattling around about her.
Stripping, she forcefully flung the clothes at the wall, turned off the light, and stomped over to the bathtub. Turning the handle, the faucet shut off and she watched the rippling hazy water until it stilled enough for her to see her reflection.
"What did he mean?" She asked the empty room.
Dipping into the basin, she covered her body with the warmth until she was up to her nose. Water dripping from the faucet echoed, accentuating the quietness of the marbled room and it made her feel lonelier than ever. As her eyes adjusted to the dark, the glass tile window filtered in the streetlamp's yellow light and illuminated the area around her.
"When and why in the hell did he write that?" Bubbles popped onto her face as she spoke into the water. "Why did he keep it? What does he expect from me? Does he want me? Why are men such liars?!"
Sinking her face into the water, she couldn't deal with this right now. She had too much going on in her life and she didn't need… THIS.
"Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!" She growled, curling her fingers into a fist before shoving her head under the water and letting out a small cry.
Gripping the sides of the tub, she righted herself while her thick wet hair clung to her body and face as the water rushed off. The emotions under her skin began to vibrate and intensify. Like a volcano, the eruption was imminent, but she fought it until the tumultuous emotions from her failed relationships and betrayals broke the surface. No, it was her that was the failure.
Unable to control her body, lurching forward she screamed while an explosion of energy burst out of her. Water sprayed out of the tub as the aftershock pulsed from her body. The scream amplified off the tile as it transformed into wailing.
"Lydia!"
Bursting through the door, Allen didn't hesitate to run to her aide. Slipping on the tile, he clumsily slung his arm on the side of the tub and prevented himself from falling.
Glowing hands hooked onto his arms, pulling him into the bath with incredible strength. Fighting to stay higher than the surface, they held him firm as he gasped, inhaling water before he was plunged below. From above the muffled sounds of rushing water and wailing filled his ears. Finally, choking on the water while hefting himself up he saw Lydia's entire body was shimmering with light, but the cries weren't coming from her. Between coughing up water and struggling to speak over the deafening cacophony, he noticed that her siren like body was tranquil even though the waves in the tub splashed about like they were alive.
"Lydia! Are you hurt? What happened?" Panting while putting his palm on her cheek, he struggled with composure as she placidly directed her illuminated eyes toward him. Those sorrow filled eyes pierced through him as he watched bright tears streak down her face.
With no answer, she stared unblinking as a breeze began to form and swirl until it became a howling gale. A thread of light began to snake through the wall and swirl in the heavy winds.
Not taking any chances, wrapping his arms around her slick body, Allen lifted her from the tub. Water splashed, covering the area as he worked to stay upright on the slippery tile. Fighting against the small hurricane in his bathroom, he was determined to keep her safe. As he got closer to the door, the wind, light, and crying faded except for the tiny whimpering that was now coming from Lydia.
Setting her on the bed, he quickly grabbed a towel and began drying her body. Her heavy panting slowed while her bodily light faded until she was back to normal.
Lifting the back of her hand, she covered her eyes and let the now normal tears silently flow.
As she sniffled, Allen grabbed another dry towel and covered her body before sitting quietly by her side.
"Why?" Her voice cracked before she hiccupped. "I… I don't know what to do anymore."
Opening his mouth, he hesitated before speaking.
"You have a plan. It's a good one."
"No! Not that!" She barked which startled him.
"Then what do you mean?" He asked, looking away to the trail of water and mess in the bathroom.
"Fucking… never mind." She grumbled, lowering her arms to her side. She sure as hell wasn't going to bring up her little discovery, and she certainly wasn't going to aggravate old wounds.
Looking into his wet lap, Allen kept quiet and waited for her to speak but he didn't have to wait long.
"Go… You're wet. You should change." Lifting onto her elbows she pushed some anger away after noticing that he was soaking head to toe.
Silently he got up and opened his closet. Pulling out another sweatshirt, like the one she wore before, he set it on the dry side of the bed before grabbing a matching pair of sweatpants.
Slowly pulling the wet shirt over his head, a rush of warmth filled Lydia's belly and spread outward. Her mouth watered as her eyes traced over his slim build, damp bare skin, and then down to his treasure trail that peeked above his belt buckle. After tossing his shirt onto the wet towel in the bathroom, he began unbuckling his pants but stopped when he observed Lydia watching. Her cheeks and heaving chest burned bright as she began to pant once again.
"I think your fever has come back. How do you feel? Do you need anything?" Walking to her side, he pressed the back of his hand upon her cheek while she closed her eyes and leaned back.
"Yeahhhh." She moaned but froze when she became aware of her actions. Biting her lip, she looked away while cursing her rapidly changing emotions. "I, uh, am hungry. I think."
"Ok." He stood while giving her a puzzled glance. "I'll make you some food after I change." Turning back, he grabbed the sweatpants and the wet clothes. "Call for me if you need anything."
As soon as he shut the door behind himself, Lydia clenched her fists and pounded the mattress.
"What in the hell was that Lydia?!" She cussed to herself. "Why can't my emotions regulate? Why in the hell did my body respond like that?"
Closing her eyes, she was met with the vague memory of his body still burned into her lids. The rush of emotions swept through her again and she could feel another wave rumbling closer.
'Give in.' A soft voice whispered in her ear. The voice was familiar, and she trusted it with her whole being.
"Huuuhnnnn." She moaned as it overcame her and faded to white.
.
.
.
A cold light illuminated the kitchen as Allen stood, staring into the nearly empty refrigerator. Resting his hand on the door, his mind attempted to make sense of all that had transpired since Lydia had awoken.
Something had changed, but what. Yes, he knew that she was absorbing the magic, but how would it change things? Would it be immediate? Would it still be the Lydia that he thought that he knew? Nothing was by the book and there was no way to predict what would happen next. After all, they were in uncharted territory.
Still, her behavior was strange and thinking on it, ever since he went to get that glass of water, she had been acting erratic and not in her usual demeanor. Did he do something to set her off or was it something else? Unable to think of an answer, he went about making her a small sandwich.
Laying each item on the counter in order of use, he went to work while continuing to permit his mind to scrutinize the things that had transpired.
Clearly she was absorbing the magic because she was glowing. So, how would they know when she was done?
Spreading the mayonnaise, a dull pain began to grow in his heart. Setting the butter knife to the side, leaning forward he pressed a hand to his chest. Wanting to disregard the pain he went through a mental checklist of possible symptoms and diagnoses. No, it was probably from the excitement and there weren't any other indications of a heart attack. Maybe it was magical but why would it affect him? It couldn't be, because he had nothing to do with the magic, but still he was cautious.
There were too many confusing puzzle pieces in front of him. What had transpired in the tub… was Lydia holding him under the water? Why would she do that? It didn't appear to be her though. Was he safe being around her during this time?
Shaking his head, he wouldn't give weight to those aspects as he had already made up his mind that he would be protecting her at all cost.
Assembling the ingredients, he prepped them with care so they would appear picture perfect upon the plate. Whatever was to come, he was going to do his best to help her towards that healthy and stable finish line.
Lydia calling his name caused him to pause. Stepping to peer down the dark hallway, a soft breeze billowed as a growing aura began illuminating from within the doorway. Slowly tip toeing forward, Lydia appeared. Promptly suppressing the need to help her, he instead analyzed what he was seeing. Energy orbited her nearly naked body except for a precariously hanging towel that covered her shoulder. Taking another coquettish step forward, the cloth silently slipped away leaving her completely exposed. Watching it fall to the floor, he discovered that her feet were hovering above it several inches.
Pleading his name, her half-lidded eyes slowly blinked. Dumbfounded he struggled with what to do. Was it safe to go to her? Would he pass out if he got any closer?
"Help me." Begging softly, she held out her arms to him with tears streaming down her face.
"How?" He cautiously questioned, still hesitant to go near her.
"Help me." Repeating, she beckoned to him as each deliberate, slow step moved her silently forward. "Help me feel good again."
"Lydia, I don't believe that you are thinking clearly. This is the magic speaking and isn't you." Reasoning, he calmly spoke hoping to reach her, but she continued.
"Ooooh, how clear it isssss. I remember it all… How passionately you gave. Ooooh… your body, your, mmmm, touch, and your love." Her beautiful chest heaved as her sensual voice lilted while pink misty tendrils of magic billowed down the hallway. "I need it."
"Lydia let's think clearly. Remember, you are married to Beetlejuice, and we aren't together anymore. We are just friends, and you love him. His life is in your hands and you cannot do anything to doom him." His mind raced as she came closer. How could he convince her to stop? Was there any way to prevent her from doing anything if she didn't listen to reason? This was dangerous and there was a lot at risk. Taking a step back, his feet locked in place and he discovered that he couldn't move.
Reaching down, he struggled to detach his supernaturally fused feet from the floor. A sense of danger filled his mind as she inched closer.
"My love for you will never waver. "Putting one hand to her chest and reaching out with the other, her fingers grasped for him. With soft tears falling, her face was painted with love as she took another step, now nearly within arm's reach. "There will never be anyone else for me but you."
Freezing, he stopped struggling and stood to face her while a cold wave grew within, slowly draining him.
"You… read…" A hollowness filled in his chest and his brain emptied. Dropping his head forward the magic took hold, and he was defeated.
Delicately pressing her hand to his chest, a surge of hot and cold energy blasted through him. Hypnotically lifting his head, he could only watch with tear filled eyes which mirrored hers while ruinous emotions and memories merged inside and magnified.
He could see what she saw as new memories and feelings began to flood her mind. They were his private memoirs but not any longer. He relived the agony of the breakup as he curled into himself, clutching his stomach. Then, the memory of him discovering the note. Shaking as he read, the love he felt battled with the anger from the betrayal. Oh, in more ways than one how he died, and then It took away the pain for only the simple price of his emotions.
As quickly as the memories faded, they shifted into one after another. Sitting alone at work, he pulled out the note and reread it with a soft smile. By then, it no longer brought him sorrow but oddly it gave him strength knowing that somewhere Lydia would have supported him. He wanted to make her proud, but he couldn't understand why.
Gently touching down upon the floor, Lydia's feet pressed against the hard wood before she began to collapse.
Panting, barely able to think straight or use his facilities Allen instinctively grabbed her naked body before they fell.
.
.
.
Watching him fidget, lost in thought as he sat on her bedside, made Lydia feel uncomfortable. Attempting to eat, she found it hard to swallow. Even though she had changed into the previously worn shirt, she still felt naked in front of him, especially when he turned his eyes to her.
"I'm sorry." She softly whispered.
"For what?" He questioned, turning his body towards her.
Those blue eyes broke through any walls that she had built, forcing her to look away as she swallowed the large bite. The desk sat unchanged but what was inside of it caused her heart to become heavy. The memories that she had spied on were still raw.
"That I saw it and everything that happened." With cheeks burning, the shame was nearly intolerable.
"Saw what?" Cocking his head, she could tell he was trying to pinpoint what exactly she was referencing. "Actually Lydia, I've been meaning to ask you. I don't remember how we got in here. One moment I was making your sandwich and the next we were here. Did you have another episode?"
He didn't know? Relief and guilt battered her heart as she relived everything that had transpired. She had no idea how it happened, but she had invaded his memories. Welling tears blurred the scenery which faded in and out. Earlier she nearly lost control and if they hadn't passed out... well, she didn't want to think about what she could have done. She didn't want to be here anymore. If only she could fly away forever. She was a burden, a loadstone, and pulled everyone down that she touched.
A sob escaped her lips, and, in her embarrassment, she dared to look at him once more.
Astonished in what she saw, Allen hurriedly backed away, while his mouth was moving no words could be heard. Voicelessly he frantically spoke and pointed, which brought her awareness forward as a jolt of sorrow smashed into her soul. Wailing uncontrollably, shockingly dark clouds rumbled out of her body, filling the room as she began to float. Bumping the ceiling, she barely registered it as her emotions sparked out of control with bolts of neon escaping into the haze.
An audible crack sounded from within her chest as a burst of excruciating energy rippled out. The weight of her situation came crashing down. Millions of emotions stung her like wasps, and it was becoming too much to bear.
Why her? What did she do to deserve this torturous karma? No. No, it was her fault. It was her fault. It was her fault.
Her eyes focused on the man below and the sorrow radiating off her nearly knocked him over. Clinging to the doorframe he lifted off his knees and silently yelled her name.
She was unforgivable and had broken him. Since the beginning, he had shown her nothing but kindness and trust but how did she repay it?
She was the worst, and she didn't want to imagine what the future would bring. Anyways, she had already assured that what was to come was going to be shit. She couldn't make a good decision even if it were given to her in a pretty little gift-wrapped package.
Screaming, another shockwave blasted out of her causing the storm to intensify while the wall behind her dissolved.
Emotions clawed at her skin and she wanted to strip away her flesh. She couldn't handle the eruptions in her soul, it was breaking her apart.
Panting, the racking pain was unbearable, and she wanted to end it all. Why should she go on? Was there anyone who would miss her; no, miss the real her. If they knew who she really was they would all hate her. There was no escaping the monster she had become.
Spinning in the air, she looked at the cold landscape in front of her and it held no beauty. Sorrow dressed her being. She had lost everything that she had thought was real and now she saw it as it truly was.
A bolt of magenta lightning shot out of her chest towards the dim stars above the cloudy sky. Floating in place, watching it fade, her shirt and hair undulated in the torrent as each falling tear sparked out of existence.
If life was pain, why should she suffer anymore? There was no escape.
Closing her eyes, she let the sorrow vibrate and spread.
"Help me!" She cried one last desperate plea to the sky, but the storm swallowed the words.
Silence.
Opening her eyes, the thunderstorm of magic whirled around but before her an amorphous dark shape began to appear.
A shadowy silhouetted hand extended towards her and she knew that it was offering her relief. Crying, she proffered her hand to the darkness before her. Linking hands, it mirrored her actions as it floated closer and began to match her shape. Subtly different yet the same, it metamorphosed until it was whole. Illuminated eyes were the only distinguishable part on its shadowy being. Smiling, Lydia closed her eyes and let it merge with her body until it was absorbed.
The deafening wind sounded like a passing train as she prepared herself for death but a firm grip on her ankle pulled her back. Looking down she saw it was Allen, as he hefted her by the leg into the apartment towards him with all his might.
"Let me die!" She howled as he gripped her body and pressed it to his.
"No! I won't let you!" His voice boomed louder than the whistling gale and it startled her.
Tightly wrapping his arms around her, he securely held her body. Sobbing, she didn't understand why he wouldn't let her go. She hurt too many people. She had already lost everything.
"Don't throw your life away. You don't deserve to die." He whispered into her ear as he curled his body around hers to prevent her from blipping away.
Shocked at his tenderness, her eyes ripped open, and her body relaxed. The cosmic storm crackled its death rattle before it dissipated, and the apartment faded back into existence.
Silence filled the bedroom as Lydia felt the plush bed below her, yet Allen did not let go, cradling her body with his. For a minute, they stayed like that until Allen opened his eyes before leaping off her. Pacing at the foot of the bed, he cautiously scrutinized her as she lay still and watched him in return.
"Are you ok? What just happened?" He asked, still pacing as he ran a hand through his hair.
"I… don't know." She quietly replied. Her cheeks burned as her breathing returned to normal.
"Ok… and you're not going to disappear?" His voice nervously trembled. "You aren't going to die, right?"
"I don't think so." Propping up on her elbows, her eyes followed him.
"Good." Sitting at the end of the bed, he let out a long sigh and leaned forward. "I, uh, want to take your vitals but, uh, give me a moment."
"O, ok." Sitting up, she crossed her legs. He looked worn out but probably not as much as she was feeling.
"I thought you were going to… when that, and…" She watched his back as he spoke, but he didn't finish that sentence.
He had saved her.
A jubilant warmth pumped through her heart as clarity struck like an arrow into her soul. Listening to her gentle energy which sang like a melody, and with a smile she began to rise off the bed. Peaceful bliss was hers and she wholly embraced it.
Turning around when he felt the bed shift, his jaw dropped as he watched Lydia glow with a holy light above the bed. There was no storm, no sound, just beams of sunlight that emanated from her sweet aura.
"Lydia." Standing, he shielded his eyes from the blinding light.
"I'm sorry." Giggling, Lydia floated forward and ruffled his hair. "I understand what I must do."
"What's that?" Confusion in his eyes, he stepped back. "Are you sure everything is ok?"
With a reassuring angelic smile, she nodded.
"Its time for me to go have a talk with my husband. Thank you for being such a good friend."