Chapter 10
His eyebrows quirk up ever-so-slightly in question.
For a second I question what I'm about to do-- but it's only a second. Not enough to change my mind.
"You can't tell anyone I'm awake."
He stares at me and I stare at him. Our faces blank and open-- it's a battle of wills-- who's going to break first..... Internally, I smile. There's something exhilarating about this. Maybe my sleep did bring something to the surface in me. Maybe I've earned the ability to scream and weep on the inside, and look like I'm watching a PBS program on the outside.
He's waiting for me to elaborate on my request-- but I don't. I've officially made a resolution: I'm not begging anymore.
"Emil--"
He starts but I cut him off. I'm going to hold the control this time.
"No, Jason-- No. I'm not ready yet."
We stare again. The thought strikes me that this must look *really* funny to the outside person. But behind his carved face I can see his mind working-- considering-- the wheels are turning steadily-- but suddenly stop, hitting a rock in the road.
"I need you Emily-- I need you to watch out for Michael while he's at the Quartermaines... Remind him that I love him and take care of him for me."
There's a blank in my consciousness, and inside me I feel something stretch and snap like a rubber band. For a second I can't see outside anymore-- I'm back inside myself again-- recoiling against the quivering innards of my body. It's a strange feeling and I can't help but dislocate myself from my current thoughts to muse on it for a quick minute. It's like someone's stuffed my stomach with ice cubes and poured boiling water on top. 'Now that's a wild sensation' the little laid-back voice in my head says....
I flip back to the current comment on the table. Michael. So frequently the bargaining chip in the war.
If only I could keep track of which war these days....
I guess it's more like one war we all fight. Only I'm battling on a different field from them all-- a different reality. And at the mansion there's a battle for power-- and one for control-- and one for equality.....
And in the ring today: Emily vs. Jason..... Ding. Let's get ready to rumble.
I crawl to the outside again only to be greeted by Jason's version of a concerned face. The sight amuses me in an annoyed way. For someone who has so much trouble expressing emotion-- or even *having* them-- he sure claims to love Michael a lot.
And god, if I've learned anything during my sleep it's that love is the strongest emotion you can have.
And it's a bitch.
I can feel my face muscles contract in something that can only be described as inexplicable anger. I can't control them. I can't play my 'cool' face. My body reacts out of it's own accord.
And so does my voice.
"No."
Jason's brow furrows in confusion, and I feel a wave of pleasure crash over me. I've never confused him before. I've never really confused anyone before. I mean sure, I've been "deluded" and "foolish".... I've always been poor little crystalline Emily-- if you can't see through part of her, chip it off and she'll still look just as pretty.
And he thinks he can magically convince me to go back to a place where everyone carries a pickaxe? Yeah, right.
I'm too tired. Tired of protecting and understanding and fighting and surviving. I'm tired of taking sides and hurting and helping. I just want to fall away. Go back to that place where I don't have to deal with any of them. Don't have to deal with Lucky and the reality that awaits me.
More time passes and finally I see the resolve die behind his eyes. He sighs in disappointment and I feel the bitterness rise in me again. 'You give up on life Em, and that's your decision-- but damn, that means I lost another soldier behind enemy lines.'
"I'm not going to lie Emily."
"You lied for Carly."
The air freezes around us, and his eyes bore dangerously into mine.
"Michael *is* my son."
"Have you ever heard of the word 'rationalization' Jason?"
My heart stops in my chest. Did I just say that out loud? My new-found balls are going to get me in a lot of trouble apparently. Jason continues to burn holes through me with his stare. It's like he's permeating an awed coldness, but the feeling only exhilarates me more. Here's something to tell the grandkids-- mark the date-- the day grandma threatened a known mob enforcer.....
"Jason-- I'm about two peanuts short of a cracker-jack box-- You want to test me, fine. But you might not like what you find."
Oh, that feels good. Jason is looking at me like I've spouted pink mushrooms out my head. I can't stop the words from coming.
"We have a lot more in common-- just remember that. You want to do to me, what the Quartermaines did to you when you woke up-- okay. You do that. Be a hypocrite. Hell, in some aspects you already are-- But know this-- Emily Quartermaine doesn't live here anymore. She died a long time ago. And if you want to find out what this girl can do-- proceed at your own risk."
He stares at me a long moment. The air changes around him and for the first time in either of our lives he feels it and I feel it-- he's intimidated. The mask has been whittled down and cracked and now he looks at me with unabashed fear.
"Okay-- okay, we'll do this your way."
His eyebrows quirk up ever-so-slightly in question.
For a second I question what I'm about to do-- but it's only a second. Not enough to change my mind.
"You can't tell anyone I'm awake."
He stares at me and I stare at him. Our faces blank and open-- it's a battle of wills-- who's going to break first..... Internally, I smile. There's something exhilarating about this. Maybe my sleep did bring something to the surface in me. Maybe I've earned the ability to scream and weep on the inside, and look like I'm watching a PBS program on the outside.
He's waiting for me to elaborate on my request-- but I don't. I've officially made a resolution: I'm not begging anymore.
"Emil--"
He starts but I cut him off. I'm going to hold the control this time.
"No, Jason-- No. I'm not ready yet."
We stare again. The thought strikes me that this must look *really* funny to the outside person. But behind his carved face I can see his mind working-- considering-- the wheels are turning steadily-- but suddenly stop, hitting a rock in the road.
"I need you Emily-- I need you to watch out for Michael while he's at the Quartermaines... Remind him that I love him and take care of him for me."
There's a blank in my consciousness, and inside me I feel something stretch and snap like a rubber band. For a second I can't see outside anymore-- I'm back inside myself again-- recoiling against the quivering innards of my body. It's a strange feeling and I can't help but dislocate myself from my current thoughts to muse on it for a quick minute. It's like someone's stuffed my stomach with ice cubes and poured boiling water on top. 'Now that's a wild sensation' the little laid-back voice in my head says....
I flip back to the current comment on the table. Michael. So frequently the bargaining chip in the war.
If only I could keep track of which war these days....
I guess it's more like one war we all fight. Only I'm battling on a different field from them all-- a different reality. And at the mansion there's a battle for power-- and one for control-- and one for equality.....
And in the ring today: Emily vs. Jason..... Ding. Let's get ready to rumble.
I crawl to the outside again only to be greeted by Jason's version of a concerned face. The sight amuses me in an annoyed way. For someone who has so much trouble expressing emotion-- or even *having* them-- he sure claims to love Michael a lot.
And god, if I've learned anything during my sleep it's that love is the strongest emotion you can have.
And it's a bitch.
I can feel my face muscles contract in something that can only be described as inexplicable anger. I can't control them. I can't play my 'cool' face. My body reacts out of it's own accord.
And so does my voice.
"No."
Jason's brow furrows in confusion, and I feel a wave of pleasure crash over me. I've never confused him before. I've never really confused anyone before. I mean sure, I've been "deluded" and "foolish".... I've always been poor little crystalline Emily-- if you can't see through part of her, chip it off and she'll still look just as pretty.
And he thinks he can magically convince me to go back to a place where everyone carries a pickaxe? Yeah, right.
I'm too tired. Tired of protecting and understanding and fighting and surviving. I'm tired of taking sides and hurting and helping. I just want to fall away. Go back to that place where I don't have to deal with any of them. Don't have to deal with Lucky and the reality that awaits me.
More time passes and finally I see the resolve die behind his eyes. He sighs in disappointment and I feel the bitterness rise in me again. 'You give up on life Em, and that's your decision-- but damn, that means I lost another soldier behind enemy lines.'
"I'm not going to lie Emily."
"You lied for Carly."
The air freezes around us, and his eyes bore dangerously into mine.
"Michael *is* my son."
"Have you ever heard of the word 'rationalization' Jason?"
My heart stops in my chest. Did I just say that out loud? My new-found balls are going to get me in a lot of trouble apparently. Jason continues to burn holes through me with his stare. It's like he's permeating an awed coldness, but the feeling only exhilarates me more. Here's something to tell the grandkids-- mark the date-- the day grandma threatened a known mob enforcer.....
"Jason-- I'm about two peanuts short of a cracker-jack box-- You want to test me, fine. But you might not like what you find."
Oh, that feels good. Jason is looking at me like I've spouted pink mushrooms out my head. I can't stop the words from coming.
"We have a lot more in common-- just remember that. You want to do to me, what the Quartermaines did to you when you woke up-- okay. You do that. Be a hypocrite. Hell, in some aspects you already are-- But know this-- Emily Quartermaine doesn't live here anymore. She died a long time ago. And if you want to find out what this girl can do-- proceed at your own risk."
He stares at me a long moment. The air changes around him and for the first time in either of our lives he feels it and I feel it-- he's intimidated. The mask has been whittled down and cracked and now he looks at me with unabashed fear.
"Okay-- okay, we'll do this your way."