Chapter 20: The Other Side
I just can't keep living this way
So starting today
I'm breaking out of this cage.
I'm standing up, I'ma face my demons
I'm manning up, I'ma hold my ground
I've had enough, now I'm so fed up
Time to put my life back together right now!
Eric didn't know how it happened, but it did. The atmosphere changed as the candles flickered and shadows danced on white walls as menacing demons rave around an inferno of darkness. In the end he knew that Pam was right, he had to get rid of her. Eric Northman had to destroy the one thing that . . .that . . .he laughed awkwardly at himself. He didn't even know what "that" was, only that something inside him, something that had been suppressed and hidden for nearly his entire life span, was beginning to crawl out from under its cave of darkness and experience the light that had been denied it for so long. Those thoughts and hundreds more riddled through his mind in a fraction of a second as the tip of an extremely sharp wooden stake pressed against his lower abdomen. The hand attached to it gripped it tightly, keeping their eyes fixed on the ground. Eric's gaze followed the hand, which led to an lightly freckled arm, up a broad shoulder, continuing up a thick neck, and eventually landing on a strong and masculine face. The man was the stake shoved his hand into Erics' shoulder, grinding him into the wall behind gritted teeth.
Past the complete stranger two other people could be seen, women. One kneeled before Celeste, holding her head in her hands and cursing to herself. The other stood next to the chair, the Revolver in her hand. Eric's already protruding fangs, the rigidity in his body, the tension in his face, his primitive like stance, all relaxed at the sight of Celeste, her eyes closed, her head resting in the strangers hands. The instinct to kill and murder was replaced with fear and anxiety as Celeste's body went slack.
"She's not going to last long." The woman kneeling said. "She won't last another day without medicine." She looked up at the woman standing, her voice began to shake. "She's not going to make it if we don't do anything."
"We don't have that much left Aurelia." The man, pinning Eric down replied. "It's hard enough just for us to make it last." And with a glance over his shoulder toward them, Eric took his opportunity. He grabbed the hand connected to the stake and rotated it 180 degrees and clasped his free arm around the mans throat. Eric pressed the man close against him, leaving his hands immobile and causing him to gasp for air at his grip.
"Get. Out." He snarled, accenting his point by crushing the mans throat even more. The woman standing glanced over at the one kneeling, she hadn't even acknowledged what was happening to her comrade.
"We can help her." She said, without turning to face him. "We can help her Eric, but first you have to let him go. I know what you're feeling, and I understand it. But we can't do anything if you kill him. We are here to help her Eric, and we are here to speak with you as well." She stood up and turned around. "But first you need to let him go, and move Celeste to the bed."
Eric sat back reluctantly against the windowsill in Celeste's bedroom, watching the three humans that emerged in the house suddenly examine her . . .he assumed that's what they were doing anyway. His foot tapped rapidly on the ground, impatience, curiosity, anxiety, and millions of other emotions running through him. The three humans stood around Celeste, who was passed out on the bed. The human Aurelia, who had spoken to him earlier, sat beside Celeste, her hand pressed against her forehead for a long moment. The male stood on the other side of the bed, and the other woman at the end of the bed. Eric could see that the trio was very uneasy and concerned, he could also tell they meant her no harm.
After an agonizing millennium of silence, Aurelia cleared her throat.
"Well?" The other woman asked, taking a step closer. Aurelia stood up rubbed the back of her neck. "How bad is she?" The woman pressed.
"She won't last another day, maybe not even another twelve hours. It's amazing she's survived this long."
"It's been two years," The man said. "What would you expect?"
Eric stood up and crossed his arms over his chest. He glanced at Celeste then at the other three. "Who are you people? What are you doing here? How do you know Celeste?"
"You ask a lot of questions." The other woman said. She dropped her head and sighed. "But you deserve answers."
"Should we really be doing this?" The man stepped next to her.
"We've been watching her ever since she left." Aurelia spoke. "And we've come to know a lot of people she has come in contact with. I believe that Eric Northman is one of the few people, let alone vampire, she trusts. Besides, we have seen his affection for her . . .he deserves to know."
"Know what?" Eric took a step closer. Aurelia looked at him, then Celeste, then back at him.
"You have no idea what you have gotten yourself into Eric. Celeste Monroe, as far as the entire world knows, doesn't exist."
"It all started five years ago," Georgina, the other woman, started. All of them sat in the living room, none of them sitting in the white fur chair. "The government was creating a new drug, one that supposedly cured all different types of cancers and all different stages."
"But it was top secret." Harrison, the man, interjected. "No one knew about it: the public, the House of Representatives, the Senate, not even the vice president knew. I guess you could say it was like the modern day version of the Manhattan Project, only instead of creating atomic bombs they were making a cure for one of the biggest medical problems in our history."
"Once the scientists that had been hired by the government made is sustainable," Aurelia continued where Georgina left off. "they got 15,000 subjects from all over the world; all different walks of life, background, ethnicity, and age. But they all had one thing in common: they had cancer. The government collected all of them and took them to some place underground that couldn't be found by satellites."
"Once there, the first week was pure evaluations," Harrison continued. Eric leaned in closer, trying to make sense of what they were saying. "seeing what kind of cancer you had, how far along you were, asking about past treatments, what stage the cancer was in, how long you had to live . . .and a lot more. The second week they administered the drug, the third week everyone was doing great: people were getting better, and in some cases, the cancer was completely gone."
"So the drug was a success?" Eric looked at the three of them. They all shared glances and swallowed hard.
"It was a disaster." Georgina replied. "By the fourth week, horrible side-effects began to show. Excessive vomiting, heart attacks, strokes, blood clots, seizures, violent outbursts, hallucinations, extreme paranoia, brain hemorrhaging, even falling into permanent comas, temperatures of 120 degrees F. If you can name it, it happened to someone."
"Out of the 15,000 that were tested, only seven percent survived, almost 1,050 people. That seven percent, would never be the same. And some wished they had died like the other ninety-three percent, then continue having the life they would later be forced to live. Harrison, Georgina, Celeste, and I . . .we're all a part of that seven percent."
"So you're telling me Celeste had cancer?" Eric's mind was like scrambled eggs, to say the least.
"Yes." Harrison answered. "All of us did."
"So what happened after that?" He asked. The trio shared glances with each other and shook their heads.
"I think Celeste should tell you." Aurelia stood up and went to the bedroom.
To say that Celeste Abigail Monroe was on the brink of death would be an understatement. She was on the brink of destruction. When she opened her eyes, she was no longer in the candle lit darkness of her old apartment, but standing, in the middle of a street: Grayson St. There was nothing on that street, not a sign, a light post, or even a row of houses-only darkness. But in front of her, there was one house, with the windows drawn up and a mellow light cascading on the front lawn. She recognized the house, the old bent-out-of-shape silver mail box, with the red flag in the air. She recognized the white door, with the broken door knob, and the wreath of flowers - fake of course- with a small toad glued to the inner bottom part of it, horribly stapled to the upper part of the door.
Before she knew it, she was at the door, pushing it open with the pads of her fingers. The house was empty, as always, but it felt even more so; no one had lived in the house for years, and the only memories it held were those of pain and carnage. Even as Celeste walked through the house, she could not recall any good moment. Her constant need for care broke and beat at the family. And Celeste knew that everything was her fault. Just as the thoughts of blame and anger filled her head the lights in the house went out, all except for one; upstairs. Celeste slowly went up the stairs, her hand hovering over the banister. At the top, she could see where the light came from, a room at the end of the hall. She walked towards it, the door was cracked open, she went inside. Her eyes shut immediately, a bright light like the sun become unbearable, but as quickly as it showed, it started to die down. Hesitantly she opened her eyes, seeing only white, but as she blinked the color began to fade, and in the center of the room she was no longer in a room, but in meadow. A meadow that was filled with flowers and a small pond, and near that pond she saw someone. Covering her eyes from the bright sunlight, she went over to the person and sat down next to them.
"There aren't any fish in this pond." The person said. It was a man, holding a fishing rod. He had on worn overalls and a large wicker hat on, hiding his face.
"Then why are you fishing?" Celeste looked in the pond.
"Because my sister once told me that there were, and if I caught one she would give me a hundred dollars."
"So she lied to you." Celeste replied confused.
"Maybe. Maybe not. But that same sister also told me, that if I believe in something enough, then I can make it happen. So, I believe that there are fish in this pond, and I'm gonna catch one."
"That's crazy." Celeste scuffed.
"She said the same thing." The man took the fishing rod out of the water and at the end of it, was the smallest fish she had ever seen. "So now, she owes me a hundred dollars." He grinned. Celeste looked at in awe and started laughing. He had proven his sister wrong. He took his hate off, set it down next to him, and looked at Celeste. "My sister was the dumbest smart person I ever knew, but she meant the world to me." Water began to glaze Celeste's eyes as she looked at the man. "I know that she is in a lot of pain right now," he took her hand in his. Tears began to spill over and Celeste sobbed. "and I know that she blames herself for everything, but I need her to know, it's not her fault. There was nothing she could do." Celeste broke down in front of the man, and he eagerly embraced her, wrapping his arms around her tightly. "Celeste, it's not your fault. There was nothing you can do."
"I-I'm so sorry Nicolas!" She said between cries of pain. "I'm so sorry I wasn't there for you! I'm sorry I didn't protect you!" Celeste clutched her brother with all her might, taking in his warmth.
"You couldn't protect me, Celeste. It was just a matter of time." Nicolas sat her up and wiped her tears away with his thumb. "Mom and Dad are so proud of you, Celeste. You did everything you could for all of us; they are so honored to have you as a daughter, and I am so happy to be able to call you my sister." He silenced her sobs with a quick embrace and helped her stand up so that he may take her for a walk.
"Where am I Nicolas?" She asked. He glanced up and pointed at the sky.
"You're in the In-Between. You're not dead, but your not alive. Your stuck somewhere in the middle."
"In the middle." Celeste said. "So this place," She waved her hand around the meadow. "It isn't real?" She looked up at him.
"It's very real. Do you not recognize it? This is the meadow that we went to every summer when we visited Grandma: this meadow was her backyard."
"Every summer. That was until I got sick."
"Yeah."
"So, If this is the In-Between," Celeste turned so that she was facing him. "Then what are you doing here? Why aren't you burning in the sun?" Nicolas stuffed his hands in his pockets and looked down at her.
"I chose to be here, and why I don't burn in the sun? I don't know. I'm here because I knew that one day, no matter how long it would be, you come here and ask for my help. Call it sadistic, call it crazy, but I'm right so far. And besides, it beats being in Hell."
"What do you mean I'd ask for your help?" Celeste was confused.
"I've been watching over you ever since I faced the true death. I have seen every single thing that you have gone through, and I have been keeping tabs on everyone you have come in contact with."
"So you're like my Guardian Angle." Celeste smiled.
"No." Her smile immediately disappeared, causing him to smile. "Guardian Angles can interfere with your life, me, I'm just a spectator. And there is something that you need to know Sister." Suddenly, his expression hardened, and the gentle face that she was so familiar with became strange and serious to her. Even when her brother was alive, he never one to be serious, so to see him that way, frightened Celeste to say the least.
AN: Hope you enjoyed that one, will update ASAP, please please review! Thanks :)