Shahrazád's Ghosts


Chapter 20: Peter (Edward) Part VII


2416 A.D.


Peter sprinted through the orchards around Hedika al-Madina, Garden City, as fast as his legs could carry him. The darkness kept him hidden from view and he did not bother to restrain his speed.

Oh please, let it not be too late. He pleaded inwardly. If he could force his arms to help him fly, he would, but he was still grounded to the dusty road and was forced to rely on his feet alone. The countryside whipped by faster than a bullet train and his supernaturally attuned eyes could see the trees melt away into fields of sunflowers and lavender, with farmhouses and barns scattered among them.

Behind him, in the direction of the glittering, towering city, gunshots broke the heavy quiet of the night and three pillars of fiery smoke billowed into the sky, blotting out the few stars that managed to force their way through the light pollution. The rumbling of trucks joined the wail of sirens while the earth beneath his feet shook with another round of explosions.

When his phone beeped, he slowed down enough to answer it. Slightly's face filled up the display.

"Where the bloody hell are you?" Slightly shouted, without bothering with any greeting.

"I'm coming as fast as I can," Peter answered. "I ran when the first attack hit the city. How bad is it?"

"Electricity is out across the northeastern quadrant. I doubt the northwestern quadrant can hold out much longer. It looks like the damn terrorists or freedom fighters or whoever the hell they are targeted the city's power grid. Our generators and solar power system should have kicked in, but they blasted our water line with one of those bloody explosions and flooded the entire control room. Kensington Gardens, the Jolly Roger, and the House under the Ground are filling with water as we speak."

Peter's heart sank. "The Pirates?"

"What do you think I am calling you for, you idiot. Get your miserable Pirate skull over to get them out of there as soon as you can. I've dispatched as many of the Braves to help as I can spare, but the explosions are shaking up this whole bloody place and the water isn't helping. Either they will go by suffocation from the lack of air once the ventilation system sputters out or they'll drown from the broken water main or they'll be buried by the imploding tunnels. Take your pick. I don't have enough Braves to hold this place together. I've got every other set of hands I have throughout Neverland to shore up our tunnels to keep the ground from collapsing over the Pirate's fragile little heads, but we need someone to go in and get the poor devils to safety."

"I'll go through the back and get out as many as I can."

"I know you will."

"Slightly, what of Tinkerbell's Home?"

"Untouched, as far as I know. She might have felt some rumbles from the explosions and her dinner may be a little late, but your little woman should be safe. There have been no perimeter breaches and no signs of intruders and I have been faithfully checking while you have been out, at least until an hour ago."

Peter heaved a sigh of relief and he felt like he could run even faster knowing Bell was safe. However, there was no guarantee she would remain that way.

For years, there had been growing unease and anger at the "rain-rustling" metropolises sprouting up across the Sahara. While vast swathes of the desert remained as it had been for two million years, these little unnaturally formed oases had boomed comparatively overnight and drew millions into the growing cities and suburbs. However, the clouds their technology summoned were not created from thin air but drawn away from the southern Sahel and even more distant rainforests to the far south. Previously fertile and well-watered lands became drier and less productive as rains from the Intertropical Convergence Zone were siphoned to the thirsty lands to the north.

Whispers of complaints had turned to large-scale protests, but these were easily dismissed by the weight of the investors' voices and the higher profit the Saharan oases created than the agricultural and pastoralist peoples farther south. They were silenced again and again and their anger grew until they no longer shouted with words but began to voice their complaints with bullets and bombs and guerilla attacks on the cities. Till now, the cities in Niger and Sudan had seen the worst of it and Chad had only experienced the occasional suicide bomber or poisoned water reservoir.

This, well, no one had seen this large-scale of an attack coming.

Peter had spent the better part of a month around the glistening, glowing, vibrant city. The heat of the day meant the city truly came alive at night and the neon lights shone brighter than the stars and moon overhead far across the transformed oases. The rains watered the land for nearly fifty miles in each direction and the heart of the city was surrounded by suburbs and sprawling farmlands.

It was filled with such a cacophony of thoughts and noises and scents that Peter felt nearly overwhelmed by it all after such an extended period of time there. He longed for the quiet stillness of his haven with the peaceful Bell and her unobtrusive mind.

However, he had promised Slightly he would take care of this and so he would. Slightly had lost the coin toss and promised to talk to Darling about the other missing bodies and it was up to Peter to track this one down.

He did not like leaving Bell so long, but Slightly promised to keep track of her and be on call in case she needed assistance. This was his final mission, after all, and Peter was doing more than searching for the long-lost grave of a relative of Bell, but he was making preparations for her future departure.

Tiger Lily the Second, or Nadia al-Aaban, as she came to be known, had worked as a housecleaner in the upscale urban home of a wealthy oil baron, but she had lived with her husband and six children in a two-bedroom apartment on this side of the city. It was in one particular suburb, meant for working class apartments and small, mediocre condominiums that Peter had prowled searching for any trace of the woman.

She had dozens of grandchildren and great grandchildren scattered throughout the city, but she did not move once after settling into their home. Peter hoped this would help his search. It did, to a certain extent. Gleaning what he could from the local library, mosque, and city archive finally led Peter to a small cemetery on a hillside in the center of the market district.

It took time to discreetly exhume the body and more time to run the tests required to ensure this was truly the correct woman.

It was. He had only just completed destroying her remains when the first of the initial three explosions broke through the night and the tallest building in the city center now had a whole half-way through its belly. All hell broke loose after that and Peter had not paused to consider what was happening. He simply ran as fast as he could back home.

Oooooo


Door number twelve led to a little-used passageway between the Jolly Roger, the Storage Rooms, and a parking garage. He nearly broke open the surface-level grate to get to the door when he came to it. He continued running deeper into Neverland, even when he found himself knee-deep in burbling, rushing water.

When he could hear the Pirates, his mind registered their frantic, terrified thoughts and he fought against the press of the water even harder. He shouted out to them, hoping to draw any who could hear him to himself.

"We are trapped!" came a chorus of responses. "We cannot open the door!"

The water was so high in the hall of the Jolly Roger that none of the Pirates there could budge open their doors. He smashed through the first door and began to extricate the frightened men.

"Run," he told them, when they were free. "Hold onto the wall. Do not turn or stop. That will lead you to the surface. Wait for me there."

He pointed over his shoulder to the way he had come. Without power, the men could not see and it would make their escape even more difficult. They obeyed and Peter could hear them clumsily sloshing and wading through the rapidly deepening water, their minds clouded with their terror and their instincts to survive.

The Pirates in their bunks of the Jolly Roger were the easiest to gather and send to safety. The Pirates spread throughout the Storage Rooms, kitchens, and laundry rooms were much more difficult. Peter could not be in more than one place at once and all were in need of assistance as quickly as possible.

He searched the vibrant hive of mental voices, seeing if any other could be recruited to assist, but it was such a chaotic knot of voices and clamor and frantic activity that he had a hard time disentangling what all was happening. It was all pipes and wires and scorched walls and water and smoke.

Hearing the panic in the thoughts of the remaining scattered Pirates made it even worse. It was too late for the Pirates in the Milk Storage Room A. The first breach in power had caused an explosion of the boilers and they had been incinerated immediately. The successive fire in the tunnel robbed it of much of its oxygen, taking out the Pirates in the nearby hall and Kitchen A. The breach in the water line put out the fire, but now they were in danger of drowning and their oxygen was nearly gone.

Peter got the men out of Milk Storage Room B and its vicinity before fishing out a few delivery Pirates and the cooks from Kitchen B. Then he went on to rescue the Pirates from the Medicine Storage Room, but it was farther underground and he could not get a good read on their situation.

Slightly, Peter called through their mental link. What is going on now?

Peter? Peter? Slightly's mental voice rose above the din like oil on water and Peter could taste the relief in his thoughts. I have never been so happy to hear from you, you toad. I could kiss you. You got them out, then?

Yes. As many as I could. What is the situation in the Medicine Storage Room?

John and Thomas got them out already. They are none the worse for wear. Slightly answered. Peter could hear the distant hum of approval from the pair referenced and he sent his own mental greeting in return. It had been so long since he connected his mind to the hive of Neverland that he found it somehow comforting to be part of the buzzing honeycomb of thoughts and minds around him.

I'm glad to hear it. Peter thought. Now what?

Well, Nibs has half the Braves trying to fix the water line and then they will set to work pumping out the tunnels. Who knows how blasted long that soggy mess will take to sop up again. Thomas and his crew are trying to right the generators and ventilation system. John and his crew keeping sentry duty at each of the main entrances. With our systems down, we want to keep out any intruders or know about any other attacks coming our way. They are also keeping an eye out for any newborns or yearlings trying to escape and wreak havoc in the city.

And Darling?

Ah, yes. No one has heard as much as a whisper from our illustrious Lady. She hasn't left her room in weeks – not since I talked to her last. It, uh, I don't know what happened. She has ignored me and everyone else since. Check on her, when you get the chance.

By the emphasis Slightly placed on "talked," Peter knew Slightly was referring to his inquiries into Darling's origins and the remaining bodies, but he could not think of that here, not with so many minds listening. Peter snapped his own thoughts shut like a dungeon door to keep any from seeing what he held guarded within and paused to consider his next steps.

While his gut reaction was to go and check on Darling first, he realized his first priority needed to be the Pirates. They needed to be calmed and kept safe. Since Peter did not need to breathe, it was not difficult to make his way through the now submerged tunnels. When he made it to the surface, he found all the Pirates huddled under a clump of date palms and staring out into the dawning sun with terrified expressions on their faces. For men who had never so much as seen the sky, the glowing orb of fire burning overhead was nearly as terrifying as the loss of lights and the flooded tunnels.

"Peter! Peter!" Smee called to him. He clung to Peter's arms as if they were a lifeboat. A trickle of blood ran down his forehead from a cut on his head and he walked with a limp. "Oh, Peter! What is happening? Is this the end of the world?"

"Just a bit of a conflict between people who do not even know we are here. Their argument just so happened to spill over into Neverland. You are safe now. Let's get you all inside," Peter told them.

Thankfully, the military hangar where the Braves typically conducted their drills was vacant and so he brought the men there and settled them in with all the food and clean water he could find for them. Then he did what he could to triage their injuries.

He was no doctor, but his own years as a Pirate had taught him enough to know how to tend to the basic wounds. Soon, he had teams of Pirates helping pass out supplies, organizing for baths and dry clothes, and setting up blankets for the men to get some sleep.

Until Peter knew that no loose newborns or rogue humans would be found in the area, he did not want to leave the vulnerable Pirates unguarded. He stayed, keeping vigil and listening with all his mind to any possible threats approaching.

Unfortunately, he could not think about Bell so close to Neverland and he dared not try to contact her or inquire after her. To do so could be tragic. He clamped down his thoughts, as Slightly had taught him, and focused entirely on taking care of the Pirates.

It took three days before the water was fixed and the tunnels drained. It took another two days to get the power grid and ventilation system back into operating order. It was weeks before they could get it fully dried out and the dank, musty smell chased away.

There was more than enough to do during the five days before Neverland could be reoccupied. Peter spent what felt like days just reassuring the frightened men that another attack was no imminent and that they would not be trapped in the dark like that again. Then, there were Pirate songs to be sung for those who had not survived the attack. Everything within Neverland needed to be taken out to dry and every room was in a state of disrepair and chaos. When they were finally able to return to the Jolly Roger, they still requested for Peter to stay with them for a day or two, "just in case."

Oooooo


Peter cautiously approached the door of his Lady's favorite room. This particular wing of Neverland did not receive as much damage from the attack. No water reached her quarters, though she must also have been without power and air for the past week. He wondered that she did not emerge and direct affairs within her kingdom. This made him all the more worried and he gave a quiet knock on the door.

"Who is it?" she asked.

"Peter."

He could hear her sudden movement within and, in a moment, Darling opened the door.

She was more unkempt than he was used to seeing. She wore only her lavender robe and her hair was haphazardly strewn around her face, with knots and tangles in abundance. Her eyes were as black as pitch and dark shadows mottled her eyes.

He had not seen her in so long that he was momentarily stunned. He told himself that he did not crave the stolen glimpses of her he gleaned from Slightly's memories or the brief fragments of her voice that came when she sent him instructions. He even told himself he had moved on and grown indifferent to her. He genuinely believed he would not feel any ill effects from leaving her behind when he left Neverland.

But just a single sight of her showed all his sentiments to be made of tissue paper and they crumpled to the floor in a pile of disintegrated mush. His heart clenched within him and he forced himself into a façade of impassivity. He stalwartly determined he would not care, that he would not be moved by her, that he would not wish to do everything in his power to comfort her in her apparent distress now.

He failed.

He cursed himself for his own weakness. He brought up every memory and every argument he had given himself against her. He told himself he should not care.

He still failed.

"Peter? What are you doing here?" she asked, genuine confusion on her face.

"Looking in on you to ensure you are well. You have experienced no ill-effects from the floods and fires?"

She stared at him as if he were a ghost. He uncomfortably cleared his throat and did not meet her eyes.

"Peter? What are you doing here?" she repeated.

"As I said, I am checking on you…," he began, but she interrupted him with an impatient wave of her hand.

"No, no. I mean in Neverland. What are you doing back in Neverland? Slightly said you left."

"Ah, yes. I was completing a task he gave me to do in Garden City. I returned as soon as I saw the first explosion and have been assisting in the care of the Pirates."

"You… were doing a task for Slightly?" she asked, incredulous.

"Yes. Didn't he speak with you about it? He was supposed to talk to you about our, uh, special project," he said. While he could feel the muting effect of her shield over his thoughts, she could not shield their voices. It was not safe to bring it up here, but he still needed her to understand what he was referring to.

Darling's eyes were still far too wide and she clung to the side of the door with clenched fingers, as if the door frame itself was responsible for keeping her upright.

"He may have mentioned it… but he said…I asked… I thought… Peter, you planned to leave Neverland. You were preparing to leave. I saw you. You were going to leave."

Peter inhaled deeply and he closed his eyes. "Yes. I was. I mean, I am. You cannot stop me. I am very determined." He braced himself for her to argue with him or threaten him or cajole him to stay, but her answer made his eyes fly open in surprise.

"I was not going to stop you," she said. "I wanted you to go. I knew you would go. I did what I could to make it easier for you to leave. But why are you still here?"

"You… you thought I left as in left… as in departed permanently?"

"Yes."

"And you were not going to stop me?" he asked. Despite his perfect recall and supernaturally adept hearing, he was convinced he had misunderstood her. It didn't make any sense.

"No."

"Why ever not?"

"Because."

"My Lady, I…"

"Did you take Tinkerbell with you? To Garden City, I mean?" she interjected.

Peter shook his head. "No." At Darling's hissed intake of breath, Peter began to feel a deep sense of dread. "Why would I have taken her to Garden City?"

"You planned to escape with her."

He could not deny it, but the fact that Darling clearly expected it was something he did not expect.

"Yes, but I did not plan to leave yet. At least, not for another few weeks."

Darling released the doorway to inch her way along the wall instead. She chewed on her knuckles while she shrank to the ground.

"I brought Michael back," she said. "I did not put the barriers back in place. It was time for Michael to… for Aro to… Oh, Peter, I thought she was with you. Safe. Far from here. She was supposed to go with you… and Slightly said you were gone."

"Michael is back? When?" Peter asked, his sudden burst of joy for Bell muted by the sudden fear of what Darling had said after. No barriers? What would Michael do, after such a long absence, with unrestricted access to his beloved?

Peter did not pause to ask any other questions. With an angry grunt, he turned on his heels and left Darling as she was.

Of course, there would be no registered perimeter breach or sign of intruder if Darling let Michael in. Slightly would have no idea. There would have been no time for Bell to push her own alarm button to call for help once Michael was delivered directly into Tinkerbell's Home. The drones delivering food would not notice if dishes never returned to the kitchens and food piled up inside. It was only Peter and Darling who were permitted to monitor her through the video feed… and Peter did not trust Darling with the well-being of his Bell.

His mind filled with memories of Tiger Lily and he knew he would rather cut off each and every one of his fingers or count every grain of sand in the Sahara rather than come upon Bell like that.

I should have gone straight there. Peter rebuked himself, his fear nearly strangling him and choking the air out of his throat.

And let the Pirates die? Another part of him whispered. You would have already been too late to save her and then you could not have saved them.

Peter took a deep breath before he opened the triple set of vampire-safe doors into Tinkerbell's Home. Sure enough, the perimeter security fence had not been impacted by the power loss in the rest of Neverland. Tinkerbell's Home existed on its own solar powered grid and had its own well. Not a single camera or lightbulb appeared out-of-place.

As Darling had said, the three separate chambers within were no longer separated by glass barriers. It was just as it had been before, with Peter and Tiger Lily. Michael had been locked in a room with Bell and neither could escape.

When he inhaled, Peter did not catch the smell of decay or death or even old blood. Instead, he caught the scent of soap and human sweat from clothes in need of washing and a gallon of milk gone sour. A gentle light illuminated the room. He could hear the gentle hum of Michael's thoughts within and the sound of running water. Michael's thoughts were entirely focused on taking a shower and calculating the amount of water it would take to grow a grape vine in the land outside the bunker.

A joyous giggle came from behind him and his arms were then full of a very happy, and very much alive, Bell.

"Oh, Peter, you've come! I've missed you!" she cooed, perfectly unconcerned for her safety or bothered at all by what all had occurred around them. "Isn't it wonderful? Michael has returned to me! He is safe and well and now we can finally be together! I've never been so happy! How I've longed to tell you all about it so that you could be as happy as we are!"

Peter stood dumbstruck for a moment before he drew the woman back into his arms and placed a fervent kiss on the top of her head.

"Oh, thank the stars above! You are alive! I don't believe it! How are you alive?" he asked, without releasing her. He kissed her cheeks and then kissed her forehead again, never once dropping his arms from her shoulders.

She giggled and her dark eyes met his overflowing with so much warmth and untroubled joy that he nearly melted in the relief he found there.

"Why wouldn't she be alive?" came a voice from the bathroom. A man emerged with a towel around his waist and water dripping from his hair. Peter had only seen Michael twice. The first time was when he carried the newly created clone into Tinkerbell's home, still entirely bald and hooked to wires and machines. The second occurred when it was time to change him and he had found a man around the same age as Slightly and John sleeping on a cot, unaware of the fires that were about to scorch him.

Despite their lack of physical proximity, Peter had monitored the man's thoughts for years and felt a deep fondness for Bell's charge. He was surprised at the sudden flare of jealousy he felt in Michael's thoughts and his irritation at being intruded upon.

"You thought I would hurt her?" Michael accused. His nostrils flared and an edge of possessiveness raised hackles in his thoughts.

Peter outstretched his hands placatingly and cursed himself for not having better guards over his thoughts. He inhaled deeply and tried to calm himself and quiet his fears enough to not let his emotions prick holes in his self-control.

"I can explain…," Peter began, but he trailed off and forgot what he was saying when Bell moved away from him to embrace her beloved. Safely ensconced in his arms, he could only see her face and the top of her head. Now, from a few feet away, he could take in the overall appearance of the vibrant, happy woman before him. The vibrant, happy woman whose cotton dress was stretched so tight over her that it revealed an unmistakable growing bulge beneath which had not been there before.

Bell caught his expression and fondly placed a hand on the bulbous ledge her belly formed. She giggled and her blush painted her cheeks.

"We will soon have our own little family. Michael said this means we will have our own little person who is made of a little bit of each of us and it will be up to us to grow them and love them and teach them everything you taught us. Isn't it wonderful? I never knew such happiness was possible!" She said and cast a glance at Michael. Michael grinned and took her hand in his to place a kiss on her knuckles.

Peter's smile had fallen straight through the floor and he could not bother to pick it up again. He remained motionless, his eyes not moving away from Bell for so long that she grew worried and shifted from one foot to the other.

"What is it?" she asked. "What's wrong?"

What was wrong? Peter asked himself. So many thoughts ran through his mind at once that he struggled to put them all into order. His surprise and dismay were so overpowering that his control over his thoughts was as effective as using a spider web to restrain a camel.

"He is afraid," Michael said, drawing closer to place his arm around Bell and draw her into the safety of his chest. "He is afraid what will happen to you and he is thinking through how to help us escape."

"Why are you afraid, Peter?" Bell asked. "What will happen to me?"

"He thinks their mistress..."

"Shut up," Peter said. "Shut up and let me think. I can't… I need to think. I need to get out of here."

Without another word, he fled the room, running as far from them as he could until he could extricate himself from Michael's anxious, worried thoughts and his probing quests into Peter's suddenly unfiltered and frazzled mind.

He thought back to all he had learned from the strange hybrid children, the offspring of Darling's sire who shadowed him around the graves in Barzakh. He had gleaned enough from their tales and memories to make his heart catch in his chest and the breath fail to fill his lungs.

Fast growing.

Too strong.

Died during childbirth.

Peter thought to the vibrant, innocent face of his Bell and he nearly ran back to their home to tear Michael's head off his body and cast him into flames. He held his head between his knees and fought back the waves of anger and grief that consumed him.

Bell would never want him to hurt Michael. By the glow on her face, the joy in her voice and his knowledge of her long-standing devotion to Michael, he knew she was as much a party to her current condition as Michael.

Neither of them knew. They were little more informed about the intricacies of childbirth than they were the politics behind the attack on Garden City. They existed in their own impermeable island, one that not even five hundred miles and armies of vampire lords could puncture, and one that did not involve first-hand knowledge of the webs of schemes they were both suspended in. Neither knew how many times their own lives had hung on delicate threads, dancing on the edge of death as part of the calloused machinations of the vast empire of Neverland that they knew nothing about.

All they knew was that they loved each other and they were now together and that was all that mattered.

Or all that mattered for now.

Michael would feel very differently if he knew what could occur during the birth or how very fragile his human mate was compared to the strength of his offspring. If he knew what had occurred during the births of Khalid and Kassim, he would be pacing the room tearing his hair out in his own anxiety.

Peter had not known what to think of the stories Khalid and Kassim shared. It was as if they painted flesh and blood onto the skeletons of Barzakh and breathed life into the corpses of the dead. It made the gruesome ends of its inhabitants that much more terrible - to see what they had once been when it was alive and not only shrouded in the sands of distant death.

Peter knew very little about human childbirth and even less about the births of hybrid children. However, he did know that of all the people he knew, Khalid and Kassim would know the most. He needed to find them and find them quickly.

But first, he needed to get Bell and Michael out of here, without a moment's delay. He did not know what game Darling was playing. Why would she not prevent his escape with Bell? Why would she sit by and let them leave without trying to stop them? Why, after ordering Tiger Lily's death, would she suddenly allow a potentially dangerous replica of herself to leave from Neverland without any strings attached?

There must be strings attached.

As long as the cost fell on Peter instead of Bell and Michael, he would gladly accept whatever punishment or string or cost his actions would garner him.

Oooo


In the end, Peter decided to follow his original escape plan. He snuck the pair out through a ventilation shaft, hoisting Bell on a rope the whole way. Then Peter coopted a waste convoy, filled to the brim with sodden Neverland detritus, and he told the pair to squeeze into the cab beside him. The driverless truck was programmed to drive to the waste disposal site outside of Garden City and Peter did not attempt to change its course.

"There is so much light out here!" Bell gushed from her position in the cab. "And what is all that?"

"Rocks and sand and some bushes," Michael said with a crooked half-smile on his face. "And you remember what I told you about the sun?"

"I didn't even imagine it could be so bright!" she said.

"Just wait until you see the types of creatures that walk upon this world over the ground! And the colors of the plants or the way the sun paints colors across the sky when it disappears! You will love every minute of it," Michael said.

"I already do!" she said and she kissed him gently, her eyes overflowing with so much genuine adoration that Peter had to look away.

From Garden City, Peter rented another car to drive them to Koro Toro. There, Peter hid them for three days in an inn within the little town. It took that long for him wander Borkou long enough to track down Khalid and Kassim and plead for their assistance.

"Take care of her," Peter instructed Michael, when all arrangements were in place and he escorted them to the airport. "Love her and do not let anything happen to her."

Michael nodded and placed a hand on Bell's shoulder.

"Be well, my beautiful Bell," he whispered wistfully.

"Oh, Peter," she cried, tears streaming down her face. She tried to throw her arms around his neck but she had grown so heavy with her burden that she miscalculated and stumbled. Peter steadied her and bent down so she could reach him and she kissed his cheek instead. "You will come soon?" she pleaded.

"I will try."

Peter waited at the airport until the very last threads of thoughts vanished in the clouds overhead and he knew they were gone.

He had done it. Granted, it was not quite the way he had planned it, but she was reunited with her Michael and, for the moment, she was safe and well. His Bell was free.

He only hoped she could stay that way.

oooo


Author's notes:

Your reviews, favs, follows, and input are invaluable and I appreciate your role in this story more than I can say!

The entire Bell/Michael drama could pretty much be its own book. I've summarized. After all, this isn't actually their story. Their story is on the periphery of the "real" story. They are an effect and not a cause. I kinda compare the structure of this pair of stories to a pebble tossed into a pond. We spend the first few chapters studying the farthest most waves created by that pebble and then we slowly creep our way in until we can finally see the pebble that caused all the disturbance.