Just a day in the life…another day, another chapter…

chyp: If I could send you a gift, I would…


The days passed painstakingly slowly; each minute seemed like an hour, each hour seemed like a day, and every day felt like a never-ending mass of time, bound to end at some point but not anytime soon. The day after Matthew arrived the members of the Order of Invision put him to work, making sure that his designated cave and Wesley's cave had plenty of distance between them. A few days later, James found that his arm, while still a little tender, functioned enough for him to start working, according to the Order. His cave lay even further from his brothers'. Each of them worked quietly and obediently, even Wesley. They all knew that if they ever wanted to make it out of the caves alive, rebelling was probably the worst thing to do.

Christmas came and went without notice. None of the demons of the Order made any reference to it, and none of the captive workers seemed to want to even acknowledge it. In this world, every day was the same. The distinction between weekdays and weekends mattered no more; each day was simply a working day. Holidays, all kinds of holidays, meant nothing to anyone because there was no occasion to celebrate them. The isolation slowly turned the captives into drones with no sense of self, and no sense of direction. They came to realize that they existed for one purpose only: to work in the caves.

Another day came and went, and all the workers retired to their quarters as usual, all dropping like flies onto their beds for much-needed sleep. Wesley carefully tiptoed his way over to Matthew's bed, hiding himself around the others so that he wouldn't be easily noticed. He had tucked his pillow and his socks under his sheets, making it seem that he was asleep. When he felt that he was okay, he gently pulled on Matthew's sheets.

"Matt?" he whispered, "you still up?"

"No," Matthew responded. "What is it?"

"Merry Christmas," he said, trying to force a smile but eventually giving up from exhaustion. "How are you?"

"How do I look?" Matthew asked.

"You always look like that," Wesley said, injecting a little life into his brother. "How the hell am I supposed to know?"

"How can you still be so…bubbly?" Matthew asked. "I would've thought that you'd be down a long time ago."

"Thanks for the vote of confidence," Wesley whispered dryly. "Listen, I've found out that Jimmy is in another room. As far as I can tell, he's doing okay, give or take a little bit. Have you found the family you're supposed to save yet?"

"I stopped looking," Matthew sighed.

"You stopped looking?" Wesley repeated a little louder. "Why?"

"Look at this place," Matthew said, sitting up in his bed and gesturing around the room. "We're stuck in this place for the rest of our lives. We can't get these collars off. We can't get out. I've thought of almost every possibly way I can, but they all end up in the same conclusion."

"I can't believe you're saying this," Wesley said, looking straight into Matthew's eyes. "After everything we've all been through, you can't just give up on this. We've been in situations a lot worse than this…"

"Have we?" Matthew asked, cutting Wesley off. "This is a first. We've finally met our match. The sooner you realize that, the better off you'll be."

"So this is the worst," Wesley said. "That just means that we have to work extra hard. Do you know who we are? Do you know who you are? I'm sure Jimmy's doing a lot better than you are right now. You think about that."

Wesley stalked back angrily to his bed, not caring who saw him at that point. He slowly crept under the covers and fell asleep, sweating from the overwhelming feelings of having heard what he heard from Matthew. If anything, Matthew had always been the most rational of the three of them. He always had it all together. He was always the most calm and composed. How could everything change so suddenly, Wesley thought to himself. Something definitely was wrong with him. Matthew, no matter how he felt, never came across as one who gave up when things seemed infinitely futile. Wesley felt alone more than ever. If he couldn't rely on Matthew, and if James remained in an unknown location, how could he handle things?


"This job sucks," James muttered as he returned to his bed.

"You get used to it," Jacinda said in a semi-comforting tone. Her bed was next to his. "Besides, if you're really one of…them…then I'm sure that you can find a way out of here."

"Not if I can't even figure out where they are," James said. "I can't think of anything that could help me find them. This damn collar won't let me do anything."

"You'll think of something," Jacinda said, patting James' shoulder. "You're one of the C-O-M-P-L-E-T-E. That's pretty important."

"Maybe you're right," James said, rubbing his chin. "I just have to think a little bit."

James twiddled his thumbs as he lay in his bed, racking his brain for any sort of inkling of a clue that might help his plight. Possessing neither Matthew's ingenuity nor Wesley's cleverness, James took a considerable amount of time thinking of a solution. Being somewhat one-track-minded, however, all the ideas that came into his head ended the same way; the collar killed him. There had to be a way out of the collar; nothing was impenetrable, especially to one of the Complete. Think, he ordered himself, think hard about everything. The Order could not have thought of absolutely everything. What did they forget?