You wouldn't kill me Gothic…would you? "hides behind a countertop with a water gun and a coconut as weapons." I wouldn't kill Monica. John, on the other hand…I've said too much. "Throws a smoke bomb to the ground and disappears"
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"If you want to, I can save you. I can take you away from here. So lonely inside, so busy out there. And all you wanted was somebody who cares."
~Michelle Branch, All You Wanted
Chapter 7: The Four Plains
"Phoebe?" Brian asked the door, receiving no reply. He shook the handle. "Shit." He swore as he hurled himself against it. Joe heard an agonizing crack as Brian let out a cry in pain, clutching his left shoulder. The sharp corner of the wall had struck his collar bone, leaving him bleeding and with it most likely broken.
"Crap." Joe said, pounding on the door. "Phoebe?"
Come on John. The voice whispered again. John could practically hear the knife in the kitchen, ringing in his eyes with the raspy voice murmuring for him to kill his partner. You know you want to. Do it for me John. Take the knife and kill her. And then I'll make you immortal.
"Come on." John said, taking his partner by the hand. He was ignoring the amplifying voice with every ounce of his will. Monica looked at the door, the shocked faces of Joe and Brian as they tried to open the door following them as they continued with the attempts at helping their friend.
"John what's going on?" Doggett made a special look around the living room, walking at a heart racing pace. I'm not going to let you take her, he spoke to the invisible force through his head. "John?" He turned. "Where are you going?"
"We have to go, now." He replied. Monica looked back for a moment, just as John heard the tiles creak, and the knife lift from the kitchen tiles. It flew through the air.
"Monica!" He said in shock and pushed her out of the way. Blood splattered from his side as the knife impaled itself in his side.
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Brian threw his good side into the door, holding back tears from his stinging shoulder. It was almost blinding, and tears were running down his cheeks from the burning moving up his neck. By far the worst injury I have ever had, he thought with a wince.
"Phoebe?" He called again, the female voice not answering from within. He groaned as he hurled himself into the door again, weaker this time. Joe twisted the handle as hard as he could, and finally broke it off completely. With a final push, the closet was opened. A cold chill moved from within, causing the two to shiver immediately. The shivers were also brought on by the motionless body of their friend.
"Oh my God." They dragged her into the hall, Joe looming over her mouth as he checked for breath. Brian pressed a hand to her wrist.
"Oh God." Joe said, and Brian nodded.
Phoebe was dead.
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Monica got up off the floor and crawled to her partner. "John." She whispered, waving a hand in front of his face. Her eyes burned as her hand moved over the wound, touching his warm blood and nearly jumping back. "John?"
"Yeah." He whispered and coughed, lips covered in a small amount of blood.
"John." She said with a smile, but soon started sobbing. John lifted a hand and placed it on her cheek, feeling her tears. He seemed to cry as well.
"I love you Monica." He assured her with a nod, and as Monica sobbed, John's hand went limp and dropped from her cheek. She shook him, crying her heart out as her partner, her friend, her love, lay dying on the living room floor.
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Phoebe awoke on her side, a bright light looming over her. She turned over, feeling completely empty. Her head was light and airy, and her whole body felt numb, like she was paralysed. Her limbs, however, could move, and she stood up.
Where the hell…? She asked, but found herself in the hall closet. The door was open. And there was Joe and Brian. And they're doing CPR? With a searching look she moved and her eyes widened as she found her body under Joe's hands.
Phoebe felt like fainting, but she refused to and stepped back into the room, the light above her vanishing. The tunnel, she thought. And I missed it.
Luke pulled on her pants.
"Hey, Luke." She said with a smile, bending down. Brian looked up and saw straight through her. Phoebe wasn't seen by Brian. She waved her arms like an idiot and then went back to Luke. "What's wrong sweetie?"
"He killed Daddy." Luke said. Oh shit, Phoebe thought, and ran to the living room.
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John was praying what he was seeing wasn't real. It couldn't be real. He wasn't dead…was he? It wasn't possibly.
The pain was gone, something he was very happy about. But seeing Monica was killing him over and over again, as she fumbled with the phone to call 9-1-1.
"Oh great." Phoebe said, making John turn. They looked at each other for a moment, both a little frightened at the experience of being dead. "What the hell happened to you?"
"I could ask the same about you." John said. They stood there, lamenting the situation for a moment as Monica reached the ambulance. Phoebe started to get dizzy, seeing Monica fade from her vision. Vertigo passed over her as she closed her eyes and sighed. "What is it?"
"Just dizzy." She replied, as Monica completely faded from her sight. John seemed to experience the same thing as well. Phoebe looked down, but Luke was gone. "Luke?" Phoebe asked. The name hit John hard. A soft moan was heard from the kitchen and the two went to investigate.
The Demon sat on the table, holding a large spike to Luke's chest.
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Brian and Joe were about to give up. In fact they were so close that they were starting to wear and cry over the body of their friend. When Phoebe's pulse suddenly started to come back to them, threaded and weak, but there.
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Phoebe felt a cold feeling wash over her, like she was alive again. Not now, she thought. The irony pressed on her that she didn't want to come back to life at that instant. John's attention from the Demon was slightly torn, watching Phoebe stumble backwards and cough. The Demon laughed and Phoebe vanished from the kitchen, leaving John alone.
"Daddy." Luke gave a small cry from the arms of the beast. John couldn't believe it, and was slightly shocked at the image. Luke reached out as the point of the Demon pierced his son's chests, causing a bright light to erupt from the puncture. Doggett moved forward.
"Coming closer isn't in the best interest of your son, as I am seeing." The harsh, whispery voice of the Demon curling around Doggett like a snake. "Perhaps you should back off before I get angry."
"Who the hell are you?" John demanded. "And what do you want with my son?"
"Think about it John. This meeting of you and the three…kids was not a chance. This whole situation, albeit some events in this variation are askew, has happened before. You're spirit will remember." John didn't seem to care about this long history lesson. "London, 1899. Jack the Ripper?"
John had a small flash of memory, a gunshot and a slash of blood.
"New Orleans, 1927."
The same flash, and then a growing pressure on John's heart.
"I am no stranger to you, John. I have been doing this for a century."
"That doesn't answer my question!"
"I am Hell, John. The embodiment of Satan himself. And now I have your son."
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Phoebe felt a pain in her chest and she tried to breathe, but had to cough violently before her lungs started to work again. Every muscle felt like it was on fire, and eventually became dull ache as her eyes opened and Brian and Joe came into view.
"Oh my God, Phoebe." Brian said, hugging her tightly with his one good arm. Phoebe moaned weakly in protest. Alright, this ranks very high on my injury metre, she thought and sat up, very dizzy.
"Are you alright?" Joe asked as Phoebe coughed again. All her strength returned.
"I have to go." She shouted and bolted to the kitchen.
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Monica heard the commotion in the hall, but all her senses were focused on the dead Agent below her. Until Phoebe's irate shouting awoke her vigil, of course.
"Monica!" She shouted, and panted as she keeled over in the living room. Her chest was aching from the very bad CPR job Brian and Joe had done. "Monica. He's…not dead. I can…get him back…just…trust me." The female Agent got to her feet and Phoebe looked through the kitchen for John and the Demon, but there was nothing there. Great, she thought. Just perfect.
"What's happened to him?" She demanded. Phoebe caught her breath and lowered herself onto the couch weakly, leaning back as her strength slowly returned.
"He's trapped in a deeper plain then I can see." She responded to the Agent, as Brian and Joe appeared in the doorway. "Did they tell you about the plains?" Monica nodded shakily. Phoebe breathed heavily and continued. "John and I were on the Astral Plain, I'm assuming. But now they're deeper. So deep that I doubt even a out of body experience will save him. But he's not dead."
"How do you know?" Monica asked between sobs. Phoebe leaned over and nearly vomited on the carpet.
"Because that thing still needs John to kill you." Phoebe replied. Monica looked over at her partner. Perfect.
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Monica was sure John was dead. He looked dead. He felt dead. True, he didn't smell dead but he still looked and felt it, and that was good enough for the rationality of the Agent.
Sighing in Phoebe's bedroom where they'd moved the evidence, Monica was keeping a constant vigil over her partner, sitting on the floor. She felt like half her life had gone by when shouting was heard from the kitchen. Crawling to the door while shaking, Monica listened.
"Phoebe this is crazy."
"Yes, it is but big deal! I can do it Joe!"
"You've already technically 'died' tonight Phoebe, and this is called suicide no matter what culture you're in."
"I know I can come back. I've experimented with this type of stuff before and…"
"Wait, hold on a second. You've done this and you haven't told us?" Joe demanded, hating the idea of Phoebe's already. Now it was just out of the question. Phoebe shrugged.
"Once…" The two glares pierced through her lie. "Twice?" Again, the glaring crushed her conscience. "Fine it was eleven times. But I swear that's it."
"That's it?!" Joe shouted. "That's it. This isn't something you screw with Phoebe. This isn't the Astral Plain this is deeper! We vowed from the beginning none of us would ever go that deep."
"Well, whatever cause I'm doing it." Phoebe dropped off the counter.
"Phoebe…" Brian protested.
"No. You two want to do what's best for me, then let me do this. Otherwise, I'll take up the razor blade again." A silence fell upon the kitchen as Phoebe walked to the bedroom door and nearly took Monica's head off as she swung it open.
"Hey." Monica said, recovering from the evening's events. Phoebe nodded. "What are you going to do?" The teen bit on her lip for a moment.
"It's a séance thing. It's like having an out of body experience but you're not really dead. You're just on another plain. And in this case you have to go extremely deep into the Plains. The Demon Plain is fairly hard to control and even the most trained of people don't usually come back."
"And you plan on doing it?"
"It's the only way to bring him back." Phoebe replied bluntly, looking at the Agent. She stood up again and walked for the door. Monica stood up.
"I can't let you do that."
"You can't? Or you won't?" The two stood there in silence as Phoebe walked to Brian's room and locked the door. Brian and Joe watched her, knowing it would probably be the last time they saw Phoebe alive again.
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John walked down another corridor. Damn this place, he thought. If this was a dream, it was a nightmare. He had blinked and poof! Here he was in a giant maze, a labyrinth of sorts, listening to the sounds of Luke crying somewhere. If this was a game, it wasn't very funny at all.
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Phoebe set her Mayoke on the floor in front of her and sat cross-legged. She didn't cry. Phoebe Nameth did not cry. Pieces of debris fell in her eyes, but she did not ever cry. With a final sigh she sank down deep into her mind, and just allowed the noise of life to continue.
She was used to this by now. The first thing was a cold rush of wind, and then a sensation of falling. The falling brought on dizziness and vertigo, making her head spin with agony. And then there was that empty feeling, and when she opened her eyes she would be waking amongst the dead.
But this wasn't the dead, she thought. You're going to Hell.
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John grabbed a door forcefully and tried to open it. There was nowhere to turn, nowhere to go. Every place he tried was locked.
There was a crack and he turned, facing the young teenager with a small amount of happiness. Phoebe sighed and went to him.
"We have to go." She ordered. "I can't stay long."
"We can't leave. My son's still here."
"That's sweet, John. But neither of us can stay here."
"I'm not leaving!"
"DAMN IT JOHN!" She shouted, her voice resonating.
"I can't and won't leave without him." Phoebe felt herself go cold again, as if she were rushing back to her body. She spun her head and concentrated, keeping her down in the Plain a little longer. John walked down the hall again as Phoebe ran from behind and grabbed his wrist again, pulling him back with her.
"Let go!"
"I hardly think he wants to lose you now come on!"
"NO!"
"YES!"
"You go back if you're so intent on it. I am not leaving my son!"
"But you'd leave Monica, wouldn't you?" Phoebe had struck a nerve, obviously, since John stopped shouting at her. The teen looked at him deeply, empathizing. "I'm sorry about your son Doggett, and I will come back for him. But right now, you have to go back to Monica."
John said nothing. In his heart he knew he couldn't leave his son, dead or living. But to live without Monica? He wasn't sure if this was Hell because there was no escape, or that she wasn't here. Finally, he did something he would regret.
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Monica loomed over John's body, sniffling softly to herself. Finally, she picked his hand up in hers, as he suddenly coughed and spluttered, and a warmth moved through him again that Monica thought she'd always lost. With a new smile she waited for his eyes to open as he sat up and hugged her tightly. She sobbed.
"I thought I'd never see you again." Monica cried. John smiled softly to himself.
"I'd never leave you."
The events of the past few days told Monica that was true. John looked at the door, seeing Phoebe's electric blue stare come from the crack before she turned and walked away.
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"I'm going to talk to Alex again." She told Brian and Joe. Brian was fidgeting in the sling around his arm.
"Phoebe, you've died twice today. You want a drive?" Brian offered.
"No thanks." She grabbed a piece of cold pizza from the fridge and munched on it as she walked out the fire escape. "But I want you to keep an eye out for a blonde boy. Don't let him get near the steak knives."
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I just love happy endings, don't you? WELL IT'S NOT THE END (review permitting)! So go and click that button before I do something mean to Doggett! "holds the coconut at Doggett's head, who points gun at her." Meep. "drops coconut, licks Doggett's cheek and runs like mad"