The Gift

Episode 7: The Gray Men

By Sulia Serafine

This is an ALTERNATE UNIVERSE fic. This is the sequel series to It Could Be Worse, which will end with season 4. NOTE: You can read it if you have not read ICBW. It's possible. You won't get the foreshadowing and the cameos, but you will, eventually. I'd explain them. Credit goes to Tamora Pierce. I'm broke, so you can't sue me. Any other copyrighted things that don't belong to me in here in fact belong to other very businesslike people. Could you believe that? I guess that's why I'm broke.

Warning: This episode is rated PG-13, just for a few curse words. This is Vinny, guys. Come on.

~~

I was eating breakfast in a diner, both my companions sitting across from me at the table. They continued eating their hash browns and their scrambled eggs as if nothing was going on. Of course, to them, nothing was happening. It was my mind that was being attacked, not theirs. I took my Gift's message in silence, evaluating it as I sipped my black coffee and stared out the diner's window at the passing traffic.

A man. There was a man with white-blond hair and fair blue eyes, sitting on a grassy knoll. He stared at the idyllic countryside of greens, browns, and blues ahead of him. He was youngish to me, though he must have at least been in his thirties. It was the aging of a man not meant to age, and so his countenance was dubious. He could have pretended to be younger as I could have pretended to be older. It was oddly comforting to see the same deception in others.

Why was he sitting there like that? Like that? I could feel his emotions. He was engulfed by his sadness. I couldn't understand. I had the impression that he had everything he wanted. Everything except… What was it? What was missing? Couldn't he move on without it?

As the clouds shifted, the sun shined across him more than it had before. The man took off his leather jacket and laid it gently on the grass. Then he laid himself down, folding his hands behind his head. There were tears clinging to his eyelashes, but the man quickly screwed his eyes shut and banished them. Safe again, he stared at the clouds and slowly drifted off to sleep.

"Yo, Vince? You okay?" Yvenne's voice pierced my darkness.

I wanted to get up and run away. No, I wasn't okay. Since when was I ever okay?

"I think I have indigestion," was my lame reply. I softly beat a fist over the center of my chest as if to expel the inner burn. They went back to their breakfasts as I returned to mine.

Perhaps I would meet this man soon. I didn't understand why such a vision had come to me. Usually only things involved with my current place and time were shown to me. If this was a new ability, I wasn't at all sure if I was happy to have it.

"Are there any huge expanses of countryside? Farms maybe?" I asked casually. Luckily for me, there was a quaint painting of a farm on the wall. Thank you, Mr. Interior Decorator. I pointed to it. "We had good luck last time we were at a farming community."

Yvenne narrowed her eyes at me. "You had nightmares the last time we were at a farming community."

I shrugged. The only reason I wanted to know was because of that man…that man sitting on the grass. He didn't belong there. The way he was dressed was that of a city-dweller, an urban misfit. What was he doing out there in the isolation of nature? And why did he think he could just barge right into my head like that?

It was pointless to blame someone that didn't even know what he was doing. But that was the worst of all. He didn't know what he was doing. He was sad and confused. He was questioning something in his life and he didn't know what direction he was heading in. He truly didn't know what in this life he was doing.

I did not pity him. There were millions of unsatisfied people out there. What the hell gave him the right to be above everyone else and think that his emptiness should just sit there and rot? You should stop your own suffering by actively seeking the cure. It's impassivity like that, which makes me sick.

"Let's go. I don't want to stay here any longer." We got up. I tossed some money onto the table. We headed toward the door as Yvenne began talking.

"I was going to take us to the sports bar. I have a team I want to bet on. I've been keeping track of the guys they're playing against. The rival team recently switched halfbacks and I really think this will be a good one to cash in on," Yvenne insisted. I nodded without listening. I was mentally beyond the horizon while they stood in the diner.

Faleron suddenly tugged at my shirt. I was still somewhat distracted by my earlier vision. It left so many questions, whose answers I didn't particularly look forward to. Faleron tugged on my shirt even harder than before. Sighing, I looked down at him and—

I was gone.

~~

"Okay, that's it. Just one more big push for us there," the doctor said. She carefully repositioned her hands, ready to receive the rest of the infant emerging from the womb.

The woman panted. She breathed through puffed cheeks. A nurse dabbed at her sweating temples and her flushed face. Her bangs were already dampened against her forehead. With a great cry, the woman braced herself for the strength to give one final push.

"There it is! It's a boy!" the doctor announced joyfully. The nurses and aides quickly eased the baby into a small blue blanket while the doctor cut the umbilical cord. They cleaned off the placenta on mother and baby. The child's wails and screams were evidence to the tiny one's entry into the world.

The woman collapsed back onto the pillows, completely drained of all energy. As her eyes fell closed and her fists, formerly clenching the hospital gown in extreme pain, now relaxed and went limp, one of the aides noticed that the delivery had been too much on her.

"Doctor! Doctor! Miss Aonir, she's—"

The doctor turned around. She gasped. Suddenly, the whole room was a flurry of panic and emergency. Someone wheeled over a heart monitor while another attached the sensors to the woman's body. Directions and stats were yelled. The delivery room had now become a room of chaos. At the door, a familiar man stood smiling. His skin clung to his brittle, skinny frame as if he were a scarecrow. The dark circles under his eyes were the indicators of nights spent laboring over paperwork. His sallow skin was sickly, but it was quite obvious the man was not in any pain or need of help. He seemed to draw the shadows to him, as a magnet of darkness. Doctor Chiles. ~~

"VINNY!" Faleron yelled.

"Whoa! What?" I nearly jumped into the air at the loud screech I heard from beside me. Yvenne was there again, glaring. She narrowed her eyes. Oh, lucky me!  I was about to be bitched at.

"Did you not hear—"

"—A single word either of you have said? Yeah, I heard," I sighed. I knew that Faleron had been asking me to take his stuffed Coldfang to a shop to be mended. There was stuffing coming out of the tail. Yvenne had offered to take Faleron to the sports bar so I could do some hustling on my way back to the shop.

I shook my head, trying to rid myself of the interrupting images and words that had barreled into my mind. "No, I don't want to get my cards out. I'll just pickpocket a few nobles and see if I can't find a sucker or two with baggy pockets and light wallets."

She obviously didn't approve. "I don't want you stealing."

"How is it any different from hustling? Both cheat."

"But those hustled chumps are to blame for betting their money," Faleron pointed out.

I growled in this 'screw-you' sort of way and backed off. "I'll hustle. Fine."

I wouldn't really hustle, but I was also a promise-breaker as I was a liar, a cheat, a thief, and an arrogant son of a bitch. There was no room for chivalry in my current situation. I felt like I was running out of time, despite the fact that I had all the time in the world. The double whammy of visions had caused my head to turn upside down.

My gift was telling me something. It was telling me something very important. If I didn't pay attention to these scenes it was giving me, it could spell disaster for anyone, including myself.

Faleron ran ahead to fetch his Coldfang. The nearest seamstress shop was a block down. I could easily charm the woman there into mending a tiny hole on a stuffed animal, especially if I mentioned I was a single father raising a child on my own. Sympathy was an excellent weapon for the drifter who doesn't care that he's selling his soul.

Back to the situation at hand: as we waited on the curb, Yvenne turned to me. She started to say something, her head tilted toward her left shoulder as if she wanted to lean her head against something, but wouldn't. Her hand scratched the back of her neck.

"I apologize beforehand in case I bet on the wrong team."

"Then, you should let me do it. I'm better at this," I replied. It was simply a fact that my gift allowed me to pick the right team almost every time. Money only came to us when I handled things such as this.

She snorted. "I used to be a bookie. I know how to bet, Vinny."

I shrugged. "Whatever makes you happy. I'll come by the sports bar on my own time. If I'm not there by this afternoon, feel free to go out to dinner and come back by seven or eight."

"It isn't going to take the whole day to get a stuffed Coldfang mended with a needle and thread."

"I have some other errands to run. And it would be wise for me to earn a little bit extra while hustling, just in case your bet doesn't go as we intend it to. You see what I mean?"

She let it slide, but not before giving me a wary eye. "Oh, fine then. Faleron! Do you have it?"

The boy ran to me, handing me the little fake animal of cotton and polyester. Then, he departed with Yvenne. Neither of them was looking forward to spending the lunchtime watching a football game, but at least it would keep them away from me.

Explaining why I had to go to the hospital and seek out an orphaned newborn would be pretty difficult. It had to be done. That shadow of a man, "Doctor" Chiles, had reentered my life, like a thief in the night. He would take that baby away to Styx. I just knew it. I couldn't let him do it. I couldn't let him take another soul and destroy its future.

Sure, I was supposed to be looking out for only myself. But you see, this was different. This was revenge. And coincidentally, it also happened to be heroic and glorifying. Boy turns into a man. Man conquers childhood fears. But really, I just wanted what he knew. If I could back that man into a corner with some sort of weapon, I could get information out of him. I really think I could.

Then, I could turn Chiles in, get reward money for catching a child molester (he wasn't, but they're both on the same level, don't you think?), and disappear before anyone decided to check my background. The only problem: the Gray Men might also be here to help their beloved doctor.

I was older now. Stronger. I could take them. Or at least get my skinny ass kicked while trying to.

As I ambled down the sidewalk with a small knapsack containing the stuffed Coldfang, I let my mind wander back to the baby I had seen in my vision. If Doctor Chiles had been present, then it could only mean this child was like me. It was gifted in some way, making it a candidate for Styx. Was this how Styx found its victims?

I had been a baby at Styx. We had all been brought to Styx as infants. But as far back as I could remember, I could not recall ever seeing babies in that netherworld. They had probably hidden all their children away until the appropriate age when they would be suited to schooling and education. What next, then? The pre-school years were still unknown to me—as were the post-school years. Where did they move their freakish adults? What was the purpose of our existence and our training?

Nothing ever answered my questions, only created new ones. My quest for knowledge was a twisted, unhappy one. It was… all I had.

Without realizing what I was doing, I began bumping into people and pick pocketing whatever was available on their person. The actions came naturally. My brain was finely tuned to whether or not a person would react sensitively to the touch or whether the person would become suspicious of me and talk to me. Clairvoyance was a pickpocket's dream.

Too bad it decided to take a break today and screw me over.

"Excuse me, young man. I'd like my wallet back. While we're at it, I'd like my badge, too."

I slowly turned to face the man who had just addressed me. Coal dark eyes under thick straight eyebrows stared me down. I gulped and discreetly handed him his wallet—and his detective's badge.

DJPF. Oh son of a—

"Don't you have anything else better to do than steal from innocent people?"

In an incredible impulse of stupidity, I shot back, "How do you know they're innocent?"

"How do you know they're not?" he replied, cross. He towered over me by a head. His low voice reminded me of that guy on Dragnet. A Joe Friday... If I were capable of such petty fear, I would be peeing in my pants about now.

I attempted to shrug it off. "In this modern day and age? No one's innocent. As a detective, I'm sure you've seen the worst in everyone you've met."

"And if I haven't?" he chuckled.

"Are you going to arrest me, then? Prove that society can be reformed by putting me in jail while another little thief is born to take my place?" I snapped, slightly angry. I didn't like this man. I especially didn't like that he had caught me.

What was it with me? I had been getting soft for the longest time now! First, I take on companions. Second, I keep one of them when I could have been rid of him. I retrieve another and apologize for my rudeness. I look after them as if they were more than my money trees… And I get caught! Me! Vinny Winston!

If I were a melodramatic pre-teen, this would be the part where I would jump onto my bed face down and scream "My life is over!" and then sob like a little baby.

The DJPF detective continued smiling crookedly at me, knowing he had found my weakness: pride. He scratched the side of his face, shadowed on the lower part because of the stubs of facial hair. He surprised me when he shrugged in my similar fashion and laughed. "You're right. Locking you away doesn't accomplish much, but it's always a start. You know what, though? I like you. Get out of here. If I never hear about you ever again, you'll stay out of jail."

"What makes you think I won't go back to stealing?" I challenged.

He shook his head. "I don't think you'll stop. I just don't want you to do it on my turf. The name's Ansil Groten. If you ever need someone to set you straight and get you back on your feet, I'll be around."

I glared at him distrustfully and began backing away. "Whatever."

"What? Don't I get your name, kid?" he asked.

Who is this guy? I thought. Since I had nothing to lose, I replied, "Vinny."

It wasn't as if he could track me down by knowing my nickname. Styx would be looking for Coram Vincent Winston. And Styx didn't work with the DJPF, so I had nothing to worry about. All I had to do was go about my business, away from this detective's area, and I'd be perfectly fine. The strange man nodded to me as I began to jog away. I had to admit that I was a little freaked out by the encounter.

And I thought I was a weirdo.

The strange detective was out of sight and out of mind long before my arrival at the hospital. Everything was white, except for the waiting room chairs, which were a comfortable pale blue meant to visually calm a person. The effect was lost on me. The holoscreens on the walls displayed the news or soap operas. The faint smell of "get well" flowers still lingered in the air.

But it was the other smell that I paid attention to. The smell of frequent sterilization of instruments and well, everything in general didn't bother me as much as I thought it would. I suppose you could take me out of Styx but you couldn't take Styx out of me. I was ashamed to realize that I felt at home in this setting. Sick and injured people surrounded me, waiting to be tended to. And me? I was sick in a way no one could hope to comprehend. Sick, sick, sick.

I went up to the information desk. A woman there in white scrubs with tiny cartoon teddy bears all over them looked up. "Can I help you?"

"Yes, I'm looking for the nursery? My buddy just had a baby," I told her, holding up Faleron's Coldfang peeking out of the knapsack. A stuffed animal would have been such an appropriate gift. Such a darn shame I will never have the opportunity to give such a toy to a child. Yeah, right.

The woman smiled and pointed to her left with a pencil. "Go to the elevators at the end of the hall. It's on the second floor right when you get off."

I replied my thanks and walked away briskly. As I concentrated dully on putting one foot in front of the other, I felt the hairs on the back of my neck stand straight up. Shivering, I searched around me with my eyes. There was a partition curtain recently wheeled out of a patient's room. I quickly ran behind this. Pressing myself against the wall, I hoped not to be seen by those men who had just exited the elevator and were now coming toward me.

My gift had actually helped me today. I was surprised it took so long to do so. As I snuck a furtive glance around the curtain, I could see Doctor Chiles walking away. He had a happy bounce to his steps. His companions, big fellows built like football players, also seemed pleased. They hadn't snatched the baby yet, but they would.

They had probably just confirmed the baby's special abilities. How did they do that? I couldn't possibly see how they had found me when I was born. My talents weren't exactly on display like a label on my forehead. Perhaps they—

The truth came to me in a blinding flash of light. Chiles, you bastard! I could see it so clearly now, whether it was my natural intuition or my gift that showed it to me. Doctor Chiles was one of us. He possessed the ability to spot others who had extraordinary powers. Thankfully, he had been too caught up in the new baby to sense me behind the curtain. To think: I was that close to being caught…

I skulked down the hall, my head lowered. If I wanted to corner the man, I'd have to find a different approach. But first, I would take away his little prize and get my revenge.

Upon reaching the nursery, I noted how many hospital workers were around and what tasks they focused on. There was a woman currently going over each plastic crib, checking the health of each baby. Another woman was dozing off behind her information desk. The waiting room at this area was empty for the time being. I stayed out of full view and peered at the rows of cribs behind the glass.

I'd have to come back at night to do this. How else would I hope to sneak the kid out without being seen? I hadn't done this sort of thing since I broke out of Styx. And I guarantee you, sneaking around, as a 12 year-old runt is easier than sneaking around as a tall teenage punk.

It was still before lunch. Perhaps if I came back in the afternoon, I could set to work on doing whatever it was I would do. My plans were somewhat blurry at that moment. The only thing I knew was that I would grab the kid and run.

There were details, though. What was the frequency of people passing back and forth in the nursery, in the nursery's waiting room, and in the path to the elevator? What sort of people would be present? What jobs and tasks did they perform? And if I couldn't sneak my way out the front door of the hospital (of course, I won't) then where else would I go? There was the emergency exit, the regular entrance, the stock entr—

Okay. Stock entrance. There we go. That was where the trucks of supplies checked in and unloaded their large boxes of equipment, bandages, hospital gowns, and so on. It was perfect for nighttime excursions, considering that these deliveries would most likely occur during the day.

In the meantime, I planned to pace the hospital, keeping out of sight from Doctor Chiles and the Gray Men. I needed several other routes by the time I went through with this. I should have known this hospital by the back of my hand by the time I went through with my vengeful plan.

~~

It was dark at seven o'clock. I must admit, I preferred to pull this off sometime past midnight, but Yvenne and Faleron were expecting me at the sports bar after dinner at the latest. How long could I keep them waiting without giving them reason to question me?

However, that's the least of my problems at this moment. I had to concentrate on sneaking the Aonir baby out of the hospital unnoticed. I'd made several routes in my head: one in the occasion that I get caught and must run with baby in arms, another if I couldn't get to the stock entrance, and so on, so on.

The one event I had not chosen to plan out was the coincidence of bumping into Doctor Chiles. I had to wonder, how did he steal these babies time and time again? Perhaps I was going about this the wrong way. Surely, it would be easier since this child's mother died after giving birth. But what did the damn man do to just waltz out of there with the kid?

As I wondered about this, a frumpy woman wearing chartreuse pants and a matching floral sweater walked past. I stared at the short woman with wide eyes. On her left shoulder was an identification badge. She was a social worker with the city's orphanage.

I felt a sudden rush of happiness similar to finding a hundred noble bill lying in the street. I thankfully perceived with my gift that this woman was going to fill out the paperwork at the nursery desk, then go ask her partner Bill to take the baby out to the car.

Bill. I had to find this Bill, knock him out, tie him up, and get his damn ID badge. I ought to take his pager, too, just for good measure. The woman was bound to page him. I knew in the back of my mind that it was wrong to be using these people as pawns, but if you looked at it from my perspective, I was doing them a favor! Chiles would have kidnapped the baby soon enough. The kid is better off with me than with that evil piece of scum.

That thought decided everything. I swiftly walked in the opposite direction of the social worker, keeping my eyes open and alert. Bill. Billy Boy. Bill-o-rama… where the hell are you?! I have to mug you, you inconsiderate, nowhere-to-be-found jerk!

I suppose you could say I was a little tense.

I went back down to the front desk, just in time to see a young man of similar height and build walk in. He had on a ridiculous multi-colored sweater vest and khaki pants. He flashed his identification badge by the front desk and was told to go up to the second floor. Now was the time to work my magic.

He went to the elevator, where I had already set my trap. He waited impatiently for the doors to open, but they wouldn't. I had 'sabotaged' the keypad on my way down so that he would have to take the stairs, where I would be waiting. I climbed up a few steps so he wouldn't see me upon entering the stairwell. Things were going too well. A grin was plastered on my face, showing how strangely giddy I was.

As soon as he closed the door to the stairwell and turned to the steps leading up, I leapt from my perch and tackled him to the floor, stuffing a hospital gown I swiped from laundry into his mouth. The man struggled, but I was stronger. To make sure he hadn't seen my face, I turned him onto his stomach as soon as I landed on him and twisted his arms behind his back.

"Relax, pal. I'm not going to kill you," I told him, sensing his anxiety. His thrashing ceased, though I now suspected that he thought I was going after his wallet. I simply knocked him out with a blow to the back of the head. I wasn't interested in his money. Well, maybe just a bit. I had to keep focus on my objective. As his body relaxed on the floor, I ripped off his ID badge and clipped it to my shirt. Then I removed his pager from his wrist and wrapped it around mine. It was a nice model. It had a planner and a calculator programmed, even a few games like Tetris. I looked enviously at the prone form. Yuppie…

I picked Bill up and slung him over my shoulder. Taking him to the basement was the most logical thing to do, though I wouldn't tie him down or let the gag remain in his mouth. He would be out for a long time, and only sustain a huge headache upon awakening. By then, my task would be done.

As I set him down in the shadows, his pager began beeping. I checked the tiny screen. The frumpy woman from before was telling him to pick up the child while she went to the ladies' room. I was only too glad to oblige.

I exited the stairwell, making sure no one saw me. Then, I proceeded to undo my work on the elevator (I had only loosened the keypad. I'm not a vandal, you know). I went up, whistling a tune. It was around seven thirty. I would be able to meet my companions by eight if everything went according to plan.

The nurses on the second floor spotted me right away. They had already picked up the child, wrapped him in a blue blanket, and had a small care package to go with the baby on the trip. I greeted the women cordially, making small talk about how quiet and peaceful the child looked as he slept. I put the care package into my knapsack, although I almost dropped Faleron's Coldfang from it.

"I'll tell Dottie that you already went to the car. She'll finish up the paperwork and meet you at the front drop-off area," the head nurse said, smiling.

I thanked them. They gently handed me the child. He was a tiny, almost weightless little being in my arms—very warm and very… something. There weren't any words for it. I glanced away, trying to keep my mind on task. If he was going to stay warm and safe for the rest of his life, he would have to go into my Witness Protection Program. That's all there was to it.

As I turned to go, I slowed my step and paused. Doctor Chiles was in the elevator. I could see him in my mind, about to exit and greet me with a malevolent smile. I quickly scanned the hallway. There was a ladies' room sign down the hallway.

"You know, I'd better just wait for Dottie outside the bathroom," I chuckled to the nurses and started striding away. I had only a few more seconds before that elevator door opened. If I was going to confront that man and demand my information, I certainly couldn't do it while vulnerable with a baby in my arms.

The little tyke was still asleep even as I turned the corner and hurried to a second elevator. I pushed the down button repeatedly. Chiles would try to sense me and the kid when he found out that the child was missing.

The elevator finally opened. I rushed inside and quickly closed the elevator doors. The descent down was not a comfortable one. My heart was pounding furiously. This was the closest I had been in years to being dragged back to Styx. It made me want to vomit.

The baby stirred, making a little noise and moving its tiny mouth as if he were yawning. It occurred to me that I couldn't have Yvenne and Faleron watch over the kid while I bargained with Chiles. They would start asking all these questions that I wasn't prepared to answer. There was only one person I could go to who could take the kid, no questions asked.

He'd better not rub it in my face.

~~

The light blinked on just as the door slid open. Ansil looked out wearily, wondering who could possibly be at his door at dinnertime. His thick eyebrows rose in a sign of surprise as he gazed upon me, and then the baby. His mouth formed a small "O", as if he wasn't sure whether to say something or just gape.

"I need you to take this kid and protect him for a few days," I said immediately, before he could find his voice. "Take him to an orphanage in a different city where no one can find him."

Ansil shook his head. "What the heck is going on? Where did you get this baby?" Despite the objection in his voice, he held his arms out to take the small bundle. "You in trouble?"

"Do you think I'd be here if I weren't?" I retorted. "Look, I don't like asking favors from people and I most certainly don't like having to look out for someone else besides moi, but if this kid doesn't make it out of here, he's never going to be free again."

The finality of my voice seemed to strike a cord in the DJPF detective. He ran one hand through his hair, still very perplexed as he looked down at the infant in the crook of his arm. The child began to stir, making a tiny sound as he wiggled in his blankets.

"What's his name?"

I hadn't thought of it before. "Aonir…" I began. "Wallace Aonir."

Ansil nodded to me. I took it as my cue to go. I started jogging away, wondering what in the world had possessed me to name a child that I would most likely never see again. And to name him after Wally of all people!

"Hey!" Ansil suddenly shouted. I stopped and jogged back a couple of steps.

"What?"

"Where do I reach you?"

I shook my head. "You don't. I'll check up on you every now and then. Just don't tattle like a prick, okay?"

He began to say something, decided better on it, and nodded. It's intelligent men like him who realize that they sometimes have to do things that violate protocol to get the best results. Ansil didn't want to help me like this. But then what? Where would I have taken the baby? Would I have taken care of the baby? These sorts of questions prompted the detective to give in and accept his drawn lot. He held the infant closer to him as if doing so would make me stay. I looked away.

With that last problem settled, I prepared myself to leave. If he had called out to me a second time, I wouldn't have answered. There was no time to waste. I could go back to the hospital now and confront Chiles about everything he knew.

As I walked, the wind began blowing, pushing against me back toward Ansil's place. Holding my arm in front of my face, I pushed forward, leaning into the force that blew me backward. I wished I had called a taxi. I wasn't going to make it back to the hospital or the sports bar in time to complete either of my objectives.

Just as I was about to turn the corner, an invisible hand grasped my heart and gave it a gentle squeeze. I halted and gasped. The wind died down and suddenly, I could hear a leaf flutter to the ground. I could feel every bit of cold air blowing across my body. I could feel the false radiance of the half formed moon above me, making me silver and sick with its ghostliness.

A man turned the corner. I knew him before I saw him. His leather-patented shoes made a clip clop noise on the sidewalk, a hollow sound that was as loud as my heartbeat. I shivered as I let my gaze travel upward. Each part of his body was clothed in the most fashionable fabric. Each square inch was worth more than my pathetic existence. It normally wouldn't have intimidated me, but this time, it only served to make me step back in fear—a most alien feeling.

This man scared me.

"It's starting to get cold out. Not the best time for a walk, wouldn't you say?" he observed casually while coming to a stop in front of me.

Bright aquamarine. Pure water on an iridescent wave. Pearls washed in on the surf.

I averted my eyes from his. "I'm in a hurry. I—"

"Need to speak with an old doctor friend, I'm sure," the man said, adjusted his shaded spectacles on the tip of his nose. His laugh was silvery. For a moment, I was almost certain that he would float up into the air and become a moonbeam. Sick and silver. Sick, sick silver.

He knew me. How did he know me? Why did he know me?

The man clasped his hands in front of him. "He's already left the hospital. I wouldn't bother, unless you wish to get caught for kidnapping a child." He paused and shrugged innocently. "He wouldn't have been of any use to you, anyway. He knows nothing."

"But you do," I breathed. This was it… This… This…

"I know quite a number of things. But I can't tell you. I promised myself that if I ever found you, I would let you find everything on your own." He frowned. "I shouldn't have made such a ridiculous promise. It only means that you'll have to suffer more. More than he did, perhaps."

"Who's he?"

A barrage of seemingly unconnected images suddenly attacked my mind. Gray skies and rain splattering on my windowsill. Streams no longer flowing, but stagnant with the ice of winter. Cold, cold, sick silver, and a vortex of blue that made me wonder if I was dead. That is what I saw. This was 'he'. This.

"No one," he replied. What cruelty there was in those words…

The wind picked up again. I felt myself surprisingly woozy from the sudden rush of reality around me. I closed my eyes and forced myself to breathe evenly until I could trust myself to move without collapsing. As I opened my eyes, I felt the gentle squeeze on my heart again—a tickle at the base of my skull, too. Then it was gone.

And so was the man.

I eventually hailed a taxi and arrived at the sports bar very late. Yvenne yelled at me for being irresponsible and disorganized while Faleron sat by and seemed to be reading my thoughts. I glared at him as I handed him his stuffed Coldfang. As I did this, the baby's care package fell out of my knapsack.

Yvenne picked it up and cast a suspicious gaze upon me. "What is this?"

"Something I picked up. I get what I can whenever possible," I told her. I was in no mood to play this game with her, this yelling and accusing until our throats were hoarse. Yvenne got the message. She gradually let the mystery go and asked me if we could attend a few horse races that week. She had lost her bet on the football team.

Dinner had been wonderful, though. Spare ribs and spicy hot chicken wings. Faleron began telling me about all the wonderful food I had missed while plotting a now to be eternally incomplete mission. I felt my stomach grumble. In a rare show of thoughtfulness, Yvenne handed me a takeout box she had gotten from the sports bar. I would be allowed to eat in the car while we drove to a vacant parking lot that night.

"No hotels tonight, huh?"

"You shouldn't be complaining. It was your turn to have Faleron sleep in your bed, not mine," she muttered while climbing into the car. Faleron and I followed suit, settling into our respective seats with the air of familiarity.

Yvenne started the car. We drove away, a calmness wrapping itself around the people inside our car like warm shawls. I leaned back and closed my eyes.

"Vinny?" I could hear Yvenne say, concerned.

"Vinny."

"Vinny?"

No, not now.

"Vinny," the blond man whispered. "Coram Vincent Winston. Cor… Vince…. Coram Vince…" He continued to babble different versions of my name until they all ran together like a continuous droning noise. He was staring at me with those eyes of his, those glacier eyes.

As I reached out to touch him, he moved as if he meant to hit me, then drew back his arm as if I had been the one to attack. He retreated down the grassy hill. His emotions were a heavy cloud around him: confused, angry, hopeless.

I returned to the passenger seat of the beat up convertible, shaking my head slowly. I bit down on the tip of my tongue to stave off any impulse I had to discuss my most recent—most advanced—visions. There was something fateful about this day. What was it, you ask?

Damned if I know.

~~

Author: Hello, hello! Hope you guys liked this installment of The Gift. Oooh… more allusions to ICBW, oh whatever could they mean? I'm open to any predictions you might have, but I won't tell you what will happen next. That would take the fun out of it, wouldn't it?

So! Tell me what you think! Review or email!

Ciao

-Sulia S.