"So, now what?"
Dennis and Meredith were the only ones left awake in the room. Sebastian, muttering ominous things about being confined to the house for the duration, had finally packed off home to tell everyone to stand down and to clean up the mess at the Kriticos house. Arthur, Maggie, and the family, after making sure that the two would be okay and promising to keep in touch, had left for their home as well. Bobby and Kathy, once they'd gotten over their fright, thought the three women were the coolest thing since Star Wars.
Amber and Laurel had performed a bizarre variant on rock-paper-scissors that they called microwave-tinfoil-cat to see who stayed in the hospital with the two. Laurel had won out, sent Amber home, and proceeded to curl up in a chair under a hospital blanket and sleep. She had also instructed Dennis and Meredith very firmly to sleep as well, but the adrenaline rush was still going and the pain medications hadn't kicked in yet. Neither of them could relax, much less sleep.
"What do you mean, now what?"
There was a pause. Meredith tried to pinpoint what emotions were resonating through is voice, but he was doing a remarkably good job at remaining blank, for once. She supposed it had something to do with them not being in immediate danger.
"Dennis?"
He listened to her voice and hurt, not just the broken bones, but inside. He didn't know how, but somehow right outside of his realm of experience there had been a world that he could have been at home in, a world he could have lived in if he'd only found it. She had... she'd grown up in it. She would get to go out of the hospital and go home to a warm bed, and probably a cat or a dog or maybe even a boyfriend to share it with. She would get to go home and laugh about it with her friends later, when everything had healed up. They'd probably all have a good laugh about the crazy psychic they'd met in the evil house. The crazy, ineffectual psychic who hadn't been able to do a damn thing to stop the madman and save the kids.
He'd get to go from the hospital to a cold apartment and a cold, creaky bed. If he was lucky.
"Dennis? What's up? What do you mean, now what?"
Dammit, he'd brought it up. Now he'd have to talk about it. But on some deep level that he didn't want to look at too closely, he wanted to get into her world. He wanted the warmth and the lights and the friends. Dennis took a deep breath, coughed a little, and looked over at her. What the hell, he figured. "Well, I'm in the hospital. I'm out of a job. I've got all these visions that I don't know what the hell to do with. I'm broke, and I don't know anyone in this shithole except Cyrus. I didn't even know Kalina. I stole an electrician's uniform to get into the house the first time, so I'm probably wanted for that. I'm probably going to get evicted when I go home, if I don't get arrested first..." He trailed off.
Meredith frowned. She had known he was bad off, but she hadn't known how bad. And even with all that, he was still far and away the most together of the pure psychics she'd known or heard about. The ones who weren't hawking their talents on national TV. And those were almost always the weakest. Dennis wasn't weak, no matter what Cyrus said. "Wow..." she couldn't think of anything comforting to say, although a plan was forming in her mind. "That... sucks."
There was a slightly uncomfortable silence. Dennis thought of something. "Arthur said if he could find the money Cyrus stole from his family, he'd pay me what Cyrus promised to pay me. Only problem is, I'm not sure the money's still there."
"Probably not, knowing what I do of the bastard." Meredith sighed. She had no idea how to manage this, but if she could lead him where she needed him to go... "I'm sorry, Dennis..." she started to say. "I had no idea..."
"No, it's okay," he interrupted. He sounded almost disappointed. "I just... it's..." There was a long silence. Meredith held her breath. Dammit. She hoped he wasn't assuming what she thought he was. He hadn't even asked her...
"It's just ... what?"
"It's just that... you guys seem to have it all together. Your gifts, or whatever. You can do shit I can't even dream of, and you don't get these blinding migraines or wild seizures that I get whenever I touch just about anything... it's not even abnormal to you guys. It's like... having an allergy to nuts or something. You don't think people are freaks because they go crazy and start talking to people who aren't even there..." Bitterness from long ago seeped all through his voice, old hurt and pain dripped from his words. Meredith bit her lip.
"Dennis... we've practically grown up with this. We've been trained... some of us almost from birth... to deal with stuff like this. To live just enough in the mundane world that we can make a living at it, and just enough in our weird-ass world so that we can survive in it. It's not your fault. No one told you anything... you're flying blind."
He didn't say anything.
"You know, you've done pretty well for yourself as it is... you being a 'pure' psychic... you don't do the rituals or the magickal stuff or any of that. You don't have the comfort of the faith, or the protection of a brotherhood or an order. You just have visions, nightmares. And ... well, most pure psychics go insane before the age of twenty, if not sooner," she said quietly. "Most pure psychics commit suicide before the age of twenty five." She didn't want to know how old he was.
"I don't want to keep living like this," Dennis said after a pause. "It hurts, and it scares the hell out of me. I'm sick of being a freak. I want to be able to live a normal goddamn life. I'm sick of being..." He swallowed. The tension in the room was palpable. "Can you help me?"
Meredith was silent for a few seconds, just long enough for Dennis to worry. Her eyes were closed, and she sighed. "Of course we can, you big goofball," she smiled. Relief and amusement sang out in her voice. "We would have offered, but.... It seems silly, but we can never impose that help on you. On anyone. You had to ask for our help. Otherwise we'd've snatched you up and dragged you out of this hospital to ... probably to my place. You can even stay at my place, if you're that worried about it. Or with Laurel." She yawned. It had been a long day. "After all, it's not often we come across pure psychics... especially not as talented or as..." she trailed off.
Dennis had his eyes closed, much relieved, relaxing and letting her words wash over him. After all the horrors of the day... two minutes of conversation and suddenly life didn't seem that bad anymore. He started to smile. Maybe things could work out after all. "As... what?" he asked, for once in his miserable life actually feeling up to teasing a girl, flirting. Normal stuff.
She didn't respond.
"Merry?"
More silence. He was about to ring for the nurse in alarm when he heard the soft sounds of her breathing, calm and even and regulated in sleep. The medications must have finally kicked in. Now that he was thinking about it, he was noticing his own meds kicking in too. Between that and the sheer force of the relief he felt, he was starting to notice that he was pretty exhausted.
"Oh. Ok." He closed his eyes, still smiling. "Talk to you about it in the morning, I guess."
"G'night Dennis," he heard her mumble, and shift slightly in her bed.
"G'night Merry."
He opened his eyes. "Merry..." Closed his eyes again.
"Mmm?"
"Why is there a cat in the room?"
He drifted off to sleep to the sound of her quiet, delighted laughter.
Dennis and Meredith were the only ones left awake in the room. Sebastian, muttering ominous things about being confined to the house for the duration, had finally packed off home to tell everyone to stand down and to clean up the mess at the Kriticos house. Arthur, Maggie, and the family, after making sure that the two would be okay and promising to keep in touch, had left for their home as well. Bobby and Kathy, once they'd gotten over their fright, thought the three women were the coolest thing since Star Wars.
Amber and Laurel had performed a bizarre variant on rock-paper-scissors that they called microwave-tinfoil-cat to see who stayed in the hospital with the two. Laurel had won out, sent Amber home, and proceeded to curl up in a chair under a hospital blanket and sleep. She had also instructed Dennis and Meredith very firmly to sleep as well, but the adrenaline rush was still going and the pain medications hadn't kicked in yet. Neither of them could relax, much less sleep.
"What do you mean, now what?"
There was a pause. Meredith tried to pinpoint what emotions were resonating through is voice, but he was doing a remarkably good job at remaining blank, for once. She supposed it had something to do with them not being in immediate danger.
"Dennis?"
He listened to her voice and hurt, not just the broken bones, but inside. He didn't know how, but somehow right outside of his realm of experience there had been a world that he could have been at home in, a world he could have lived in if he'd only found it. She had... she'd grown up in it. She would get to go out of the hospital and go home to a warm bed, and probably a cat or a dog or maybe even a boyfriend to share it with. She would get to go home and laugh about it with her friends later, when everything had healed up. They'd probably all have a good laugh about the crazy psychic they'd met in the evil house. The crazy, ineffectual psychic who hadn't been able to do a damn thing to stop the madman and save the kids.
He'd get to go from the hospital to a cold apartment and a cold, creaky bed. If he was lucky.
"Dennis? What's up? What do you mean, now what?"
Dammit, he'd brought it up. Now he'd have to talk about it. But on some deep level that he didn't want to look at too closely, he wanted to get into her world. He wanted the warmth and the lights and the friends. Dennis took a deep breath, coughed a little, and looked over at her. What the hell, he figured. "Well, I'm in the hospital. I'm out of a job. I've got all these visions that I don't know what the hell to do with. I'm broke, and I don't know anyone in this shithole except Cyrus. I didn't even know Kalina. I stole an electrician's uniform to get into the house the first time, so I'm probably wanted for that. I'm probably going to get evicted when I go home, if I don't get arrested first..." He trailed off.
Meredith frowned. She had known he was bad off, but she hadn't known how bad. And even with all that, he was still far and away the most together of the pure psychics she'd known or heard about. The ones who weren't hawking their talents on national TV. And those were almost always the weakest. Dennis wasn't weak, no matter what Cyrus said. "Wow..." she couldn't think of anything comforting to say, although a plan was forming in her mind. "That... sucks."
There was a slightly uncomfortable silence. Dennis thought of something. "Arthur said if he could find the money Cyrus stole from his family, he'd pay me what Cyrus promised to pay me. Only problem is, I'm not sure the money's still there."
"Probably not, knowing what I do of the bastard." Meredith sighed. She had no idea how to manage this, but if she could lead him where she needed him to go... "I'm sorry, Dennis..." she started to say. "I had no idea..."
"No, it's okay," he interrupted. He sounded almost disappointed. "I just... it's..." There was a long silence. Meredith held her breath. Dammit. She hoped he wasn't assuming what she thought he was. He hadn't even asked her...
"It's just ... what?"
"It's just that... you guys seem to have it all together. Your gifts, or whatever. You can do shit I can't even dream of, and you don't get these blinding migraines or wild seizures that I get whenever I touch just about anything... it's not even abnormal to you guys. It's like... having an allergy to nuts or something. You don't think people are freaks because they go crazy and start talking to people who aren't even there..." Bitterness from long ago seeped all through his voice, old hurt and pain dripped from his words. Meredith bit her lip.
"Dennis... we've practically grown up with this. We've been trained... some of us almost from birth... to deal with stuff like this. To live just enough in the mundane world that we can make a living at it, and just enough in our weird-ass world so that we can survive in it. It's not your fault. No one told you anything... you're flying blind."
He didn't say anything.
"You know, you've done pretty well for yourself as it is... you being a 'pure' psychic... you don't do the rituals or the magickal stuff or any of that. You don't have the comfort of the faith, or the protection of a brotherhood or an order. You just have visions, nightmares. And ... well, most pure psychics go insane before the age of twenty, if not sooner," she said quietly. "Most pure psychics commit suicide before the age of twenty five." She didn't want to know how old he was.
"I don't want to keep living like this," Dennis said after a pause. "It hurts, and it scares the hell out of me. I'm sick of being a freak. I want to be able to live a normal goddamn life. I'm sick of being..." He swallowed. The tension in the room was palpable. "Can you help me?"
Meredith was silent for a few seconds, just long enough for Dennis to worry. Her eyes were closed, and she sighed. "Of course we can, you big goofball," she smiled. Relief and amusement sang out in her voice. "We would have offered, but.... It seems silly, but we can never impose that help on you. On anyone. You had to ask for our help. Otherwise we'd've snatched you up and dragged you out of this hospital to ... probably to my place. You can even stay at my place, if you're that worried about it. Or with Laurel." She yawned. It had been a long day. "After all, it's not often we come across pure psychics... especially not as talented or as..." she trailed off.
Dennis had his eyes closed, much relieved, relaxing and letting her words wash over him. After all the horrors of the day... two minutes of conversation and suddenly life didn't seem that bad anymore. He started to smile. Maybe things could work out after all. "As... what?" he asked, for once in his miserable life actually feeling up to teasing a girl, flirting. Normal stuff.
She didn't respond.
"Merry?"
More silence. He was about to ring for the nurse in alarm when he heard the soft sounds of her breathing, calm and even and regulated in sleep. The medications must have finally kicked in. Now that he was thinking about it, he was noticing his own meds kicking in too. Between that and the sheer force of the relief he felt, he was starting to notice that he was pretty exhausted.
"Oh. Ok." He closed his eyes, still smiling. "Talk to you about it in the morning, I guess."
"G'night Dennis," he heard her mumble, and shift slightly in her bed.
"G'night Merry."
He opened his eyes. "Merry..." Closed his eyes again.
"Mmm?"
"Why is there a cat in the room?"
He drifted off to sleep to the sound of her quiet, delighted laughter.