Dani's Voice Over:
Fall into bliss.
Fall into calm.
Fall into a lull.
Fall into believing that everything will be fine just like it always is.
Fall into thinking that this is the worst of it.
Fall into knowing all will be well.
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Bo's POV
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"Slow down."
"We have to get home." He snaps back at me, my hand clenching my side. Steps slowing until I've come to complete stop. Chest too heavy to breath comfortably, throbbing in my side becoming too much to ignore.
"Sean. Stop."
"What?!" Spinning around, two steps toward me before he catches himself. He must think I hold my ground to make a point, but honestly, it just hurts too much to move. "I have to keep moving. I have to keep from thinking, because if I start thinking mom…." He trails off, eye changing. "It's gonna be bad. For everyone."
"I understand…"
"Nothing!" His voice begins to change, lower. Chest rising and falling fast enough I can notice it. "Your wife is alive! Your children are alive!"
"She wouldn't recognize this you."
"She can't recognize anything now. She's dead."
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Lauren's POV
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Standing at the Athenaeum, dozens of eye focused on my every movement I find a peculiar sense of tranquility. I can't help Mila now or the other hundreds of my people that lay dead, scattered over my city. I don't know the words to help Sean now. I don't know where to begin with the others. I can't seem to help my wife through whatever it is that she's hiding from me. I can't seem to do a lot, but this here, THIS I know how to do.
When did this become all I am?
The room not particularly large, but big enough now somehow seems huge with how few occupants huddle to the closest chairs. Six sets of fifty-four chairs divided in nine rows in ascending order. From my left to right, the numbers seeming to dwindle. Mystics, twenty of fifty-four seats filled. Worriors, thirteen of fifty-four seats filled. Healers, nine of fifty-four. Builders, six of fifty-four. Crusaders, five of fifty-four. And diplomats, two of fifty-four. Only fifty-five seats of three hundred and twenty-four occupied.
Sure, there's the slightest of possibilities there could be some stragglers, some that are wounded or simply can't make it here. It's a possibility. Although these seats are saved for those of the most affluent and influential of their fields. These seats were reserved for the people who make this city run. These seats are supposed to be filled with those very people who were to be seated at my daughter's performance. So, while there is a possibility that the architects of my city, my people will come trickling in…I don't have hope.
"Mi nadi."
"Mi Reyna." They say in heavy union.
"We have lost many, the numbers far greater than anything we are preparing for. There will be a time to mourn, now is not that time."
"Mi Reyna." In union, they nod.
"These terrorists are human, humans from beyond the wall. Whether they are infected or not, they may be carriers. We do not know whether the virus is solely limited to contact anymore. So, we need a barrier. The furthest explosion was recorded on Fifth and Trick Street. The barrier needs to be three miles further out from there. Our capital is on lockdown until I say. No one, in or out. If we die, we die so that the rest of our people may live."
"Mi Reyna."
"Tamsin, with Skylar, Denzel and Soren gone that leaves you solely in charge of all military and law enforcement. You may all consider Bo out of the current equation…for the time being." Uneasily she nods. "Personally we may not get along nor may we like one another, but you scored optimally on the loyalty aptitude. So I have faith in you. That being said, lethal force is the only force. We bring back these theorists there is going to be a question of trail or execution, we cannot afford a national debate at this time."
"And if they surrender?"
I hesitated, eyes shifting over the broken crowd. Several nearly in shambles, having made it through one explosion or another. "Lethal force is the only force."
"Mi Reyna."
"My healers. There are three hospitals within our quarantine zone, I want them all at optimal capacity. I want the F.R.H.K. wings back up and functional. And most of all, I want a healer assigned to every military unit. We will save every possible one of our people as we can. Saint Teresa's, I know there are quite a few succubi and incubi nurses, send them, but make sure they do not over extent themselves."
"Mi Reyna."
"My builders. My architects and engineers. Find out where the weaknesses are in our walls and correct them. Find out how this happened. Find out the damage."
"Mi Reyna."
"My crusaders. My diplomats. You are few, but you are powerful. Kenzi is currently out of the picture, until then Leo." My eyes meeting his, and for the first time he doesn't look as though he's going to fight my every word. "Coordination goes through you. I want the message out to our people, especially within the capital that we are not broken. That I am alive."
"Mi Reyna."
"It has been a long time since we have faced adversity such as this. It is hard and it is painful, but adversity is what has shaped us. It is what has made us strong and united. Let us never forget. Ka tra, ka nadi."
"Ka tra, ka nadi."
One nation, one people. I repeat it to myself over and over again as I make my exit, this being the one time when they should have left before me, but tradition is strong. One nation, one people. I had always included the dead lands, they were my people…just reluctant. Most had come around, proved valuable. The rest would eventually, for one reason of another. They were my people. They were simply like the family member you argued with one holiday and haven't spoken to, eventually you would make up. Eventually. One nation, one people. Now I'm ordering their death without remorse.
"Khali tru wankra." Leo's voice pulls me to a stop, him being the one person out of all of them that had to make a right instead of a left and follow me. My eyes moving passed him to the others rushing from the door. "What happened to that?"
"I am showing mercy. Mercy in the fact that I haven't ordered an extermination of those beyond the wall. Mercy in the fact that I am ordering a quick death in war, rather than to be tried for a fate worse. Mercy for our people at a quick resolution to this tragedy."
After a moment he does the most peculiar thing. He smirks, and bows his head. "Mi Reyna."
Anxiously I watch him walk away, catching up with the stragglers of the disbanding crowd. Every day I question how he managed to achieve a ninety-two on the loyalty aptitude. Drawing in a deep breath, I turn my back to them, making a dash for my office. I just need a minute. Just one minute to breathe and possibly change, then I can get back out there. Just a minute and then I will be okay.
An unusual click, click, click echoes through the abandoned hall. I look around for the culprit, but find nothing. Click, click, click. Another bomb? No. Invisible stalker? No, now isn't the time for humor. What is it? Click, click, click. Taking a moment, I look down at myself realizing it's my heels, I had forgotten I was even wearing them in all the commotion. Ironic, I could barely walk in these things once and now I can survive the assassination attempts in them in stride.
Click…click.
Bo is okay, she understands why I had to do this. She does. She knows I'm not sending her away for the sake of sending her away. It's because I sent her away that I can do this. She heard my words, she understood them. I know she did.
Click…click.
Sean will be okay. He's fine. He's strong and has survived worse…physically. But Bo is there for him now and I will be too, soon. We know what it's like to lose a child, in more way that one. We will handle this. It'll be okay. I know it will.
Click…click.
Kenzi will be fine. She's just unconscious. She's knocked herself out worse than this. She's survived worse than this. She's going to be fine. By the time I make it back to them she'll be up and eating everything in the fridge. If anything is going to kill her it's that damn cold that I keep forgetting to give her the meds for. She'll be fine. I know she will.
Click…click.
Victoria is safe. Knowing her she probably never intended to come meaning she's most likely still at her friend's house. She's smart enough to know explosions mean shelter in place. I think they still teach that to them in school. Or maybe they haven't. Regardless, despite her tendency towards deviance she's smart. She's would stay where she's at. She's perfectly fine. I know it.
Click…click.
Charlie's got Michael and Ethan under control. If anyone can keep them in line, it's her. Despite her 'I hate my mother' attitude, she is my daughter. She will do the right thing. She will do what she needs to. They're probably at home already. They're probably at home, healed making awkward jokes about Kenzi wanting food as soon as she wakes up. Any moment now, Bo and Sean walking in. Everything is fine. I know everything is fine.
The maniacal clicks coming to a stop as I reach my office, hand on the doorknob as I feel a sharp pain in my stomach. Dammit, I had forgotten about that. Okay. Moment to breathe. Moment to perform a little self-surgery. Damned super healing having healed over a piece of the stage having lodged itself just underneath my ribcage. Then right back out to help my people. Then home to check on my family.
Everything is going to be okay.
Pulling the door open, my next ten steps already planned. Attention solely focused on my desk I completely miss the young girl standing off to the side of my office, looking at my bookcase. Turning to face her, trying to place her face and faintly familiar scent none of it matters as my eyes come to rest on the gun in her hand.
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Bo's POV
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"Did we need to take the longest possible way?"
"Yes, we did." I snap right back. Nothing other than anger and fear driving me at this point to keep up with his pace. "We need to be sure no one is following us." We turn down an alley, just another ten minutes and we'll be there. I can make another ten minutes.
"Let them come. I'll kill them all."
"You don't mean that."
"I do! I'll kill each and every one of them mom. I'm not a child. I'm not Michael and Ethan. You don't need to baby me and tell me what I mean and don't mean. For years we've tried to help these people. From the war. Through the war. After the war. Through the virus. After the virus. We've done everything but drag them in and force them into a better life. This is what they do? Our city is burning! Our family and friends and our people are dead! My wife is dead! We offer a better life and they spit in our face. We offer help and they kill us. Aren't you angry?!"
"I'm furious!" Grabbing his arm, I pull us to a stop at the mouth of the alley. "I am furious and terrified and heartbroken Sean! But I have been through this a lot more than you. I've watched nearly every person I care about die throughout the years. I've reacted in pain. I've reacted in rage. I've reacted in indifference. I've reacted in every emotion there is and I've come to learn that sometimes you need to step back. We get home, you want to scream and punch holes in the wall do it. You want to cry in the corner, then do it. Drink yourself to sleep? Do it. But do not act on what you're feeling now, because there will be a time very soon when you're going to have to look in the mirror and come to terms with what you did."
"Now. Five minutes from now. Five days…five weeks…five years…I will want them all dead."
"You are starting to sound just like Danielle."
"Dani killed for pleasure. This is justice."
"Says who?"
"Says me." He jerks his arm away, taking a right toward the bridge rather than left away from it. A left would have been the long way, the overly safe way, but at this point I don't think I can make that much more.
The street oddly dark, the streetlights out, the moon a poor substitution. Minus the usually lively atmosphere of Markus Street around the clock, it looked untouched. No damage. No debris. No abandoned cars. More importantly no dead bodies. My eye focusing on a car to the left of me, no particular reason other than to admire the lack of damage. A slight shriek coming from me as I run into Sean. His head tilted up, looking at the bridge. My eyes following his line of sight.
I spoke too soon.
'You are death.'
Left hand grabbing ahold of his shirt, the world spinning away from me. Chest tightening as I struggle to catch my breath.
'Everyone you love dies Bo.'
Displayed for the world Travino hangs from the lowest point of the bridge. His arms spread out, wrists tied to the metal beams. His feet tied together at the ankles. It's dark enough I could try to tell myself it isn't him, but I know it is. I know it's him just as I know it's Soren beside him. Soren bare chested and bloodied, but I make out the shape of his tattoos. Travino in his usual uniform, collar and all. They're family…I know them.
'How many more?'
"Tell me again why they shouldn't pay?"
His question rings in my ears, heavy weight on my chest like a mountain of bricks. My lips parting to say something hollow at this point. Though it seems pointless as I hear familiar pop followed by nothing.
Absolutely nothing.
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Lauren's POV
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"That won't do anything."
"It'll do enough."
"No, it won't." Scoffing under my breath, I take two steps further into my office. "You'd have to hit me in the head, assuming you're a good enough shot. Even then you would have to be extremely fast as my reflexes are nearly ten times quicker than yours."
"So many big words."
"Do I know you?" Another step forward, head tilting to the left attempting to place the peculiar familiarity about her.
"No, I'm not important enough to know."
"How petulant." Chuckling to myself I take another step. "Do you have a name?"
"Does it matter?"
"Not particularly. When all is said and done you won't even be a footnote in our history text, but for curiosities sake. After all you have pulled off something rather impressive." She remains silent, just stares at me. "I am assuming you were the orchestrator of this. Or am I wrong? Are you simply the sacrificial lamb?"
"Does it matter?"
"Again, not particularly. Although sacrificial lamb is rather idiotic and pathetic. While if you were the orchestrator of this all and you desired to be the one at the end, it garners some respect."
"Do you think I care if you respect me?"
"I would venture to say it means something."
"Full of yourself much?" She snorts, rolling her eyes as she looks at the door.
"No, but I don't sense hesitation or regret in you. I don't particularly sense fear either. Yet, you've yet to make your move."
After a moment of hesitation her eyes meet mine. "They call me Trini."
"Was that hard?"
"Are you always this condescending?"
"You have to excuse my lack of manors, see tonight a great deal of my people were slaughtered. Innocent people simply going about their everyday lives. While it doesn't happen often, it does tend to place me in a foul mood."
"Now you know how it feels."
"Hm."
"That's it? The Queen of everything only has a 'hm'?"
I shrug, taking another step forward. "I would have respected you more had you said you just hated Fae or something. But this? Blaming me for the cause of everything, it's childish and over done."
"Careful." Snapping, she raises the gun. "It's not smart to mock the person with the gun."
"That would be good advice if I wasn't near impervious."
"Jesus." She laughs. "You're nothing like I imagined you."
"What did you imagine? A blood thirsty monster with a dungeon of bodies I collect? A misunderstood mousy woman who would be scared without her guards?"
"Something…more."
"Hm." I nod, shrugging again with a sigh as I walk around my desk. Jaw clenching as I take a seat, quickly being reminded of the piece of metal in my stomach. "Ironically in moments of self-reflection, I say the same thing."
"What? Am I supposed to ask why? Pity you?"
"Pity me?" Her words earning a genuine laugh. "No, the days of people pitying me are long passed."
"How?"
"How?"
"How did you become…" She trails off, waving her gun at me. "You went from human slave to a…monster."
"Third shelf, first six books from the left." I gesture toward the bookshelf, her brow raising. "My biographies. Details it for you there."
"Is this funny to you? Your people are dying. My people are dying. And here you sit, joking."
"Do you think you're the first person to threaten me? First person to want to kill me? First person to try? For nearly a century I have had one person or another wanting me dead, often attempting to do so. Eventually it all becomes a little tiresome."
"You get nearly a century and my people can barely hit twenty now. How is that fair?"
"It's not."
"It's not?"
"No, it's not. I never said it was." Shifting in my chair, attempting to take weight off my left side. "Life isn't fair. You think that in your twenty some odd years you've learned that? Try a century. Try being a slave. Try being owned. Try losing nearly everyone you've ever loved…over and over and over again. Try losing your child. Try making a marriage work. Try raising a family. You're a child Trini, your actions much like your questions prove that."
"Yeah?" She raises the gun again, finger on the trigger this time. Her jaw clenching as she sees my lack of reaction. "Call me a child again."
"Child." I find myself smirking as she fails to pull the trigger, her eyes narrowing as if it pains her not to. "What do you want Trini? You want answers? I don't have them. You want absolution? I can't give it. You want a piece of mind? I can't give it to you."
"I wanted to see if the woman my grandfather knew was still alive."
"Is this the part where I ask who your grandfather was?"
"No." She shakes her head. "I doubt you'd even remember him now."
"Ah yes. The big bad heartless Queen, what a picture you paint of me from beyond the wall. How predictable."
"This IS your fault."
"Says who?"
"Says history."
"Which history?"
"The true history."
"Child, you weren't old enough to remember what happened. You weren't…important enough to know the pieces moving to create this. And that isn't an insult to you, I wasn't important enough either, not until the end. Not until it was too late."
"Riiight."
"Believe what you wish, it's obvious you're committed to your foolish version of events. Though none of it matters now. What's done is done."
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Bo's POV
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"Lauren. Lauren. Lauren." I hear my own muffled cries faintly in my ears but they seem pointless. I can see nothing other than red. Everything is red and I can barely breathe, consciousness slipping away. My wrists pressed against something cold like my ankles. I'm caught in a bear trap.
Jumbled mind rushing to come up with any explanation to what's happened. Any explanation as to where I am or where Lauren is. Every passing second my skin further on fire. My chest heavier than the last breath. A wildness inside myself I can't explain but can only come to think of a wild animal trapped inside a cage. What's happened to my wife? What's happened to my children? What's happened at all?
Ceremony. Party. Honeymoon. Home. Ceremony. Party. Honeymoon. Ceremony. Party. Honeymoon.
What's happened?
Ceremony. Party. Honeymoon. Home. Ceremony. Party. Honeymoon. Ceremony. Party. Honeymoon.
Where is everyone?
Ceremony. Party. Honeymoon. Home. Ceremony. Party. Honeymoon. Ceremony. Party. Honeymoon.
Where am I?
Red runs like water colors until there's nothing except blackness. Always blackness. Always darkness. A wind blows and the blackness lessens. It's sheer. I find myself looking down at the dress I wore at the ceremony. The exact one. Bare feet on pale cobblestone. Breath held as I take in my surroundings. All the colors bleached. All the colors running together to create one. The sky a light blue that runs into gray and it's uniquely beautiful and terrifying all at the same time.
The cobblestone beneath my feet that of a tiny, arching bridge that suspended over a stream which mimics the sky. The grass a bright, darkened shade of green appearing freshly cut, but the spring time smell is missing. In fact all the smell seems to be missing along with the wind. I know I'm breathing. I'm alive…I think. But there's no smell, no air…no nothing. It's all so perfect in the weirdest of ways.
Turning behind myself I search for something, anything but there is nothing. Only me and this perfect word. Forcing myself forward each step to the edge of the bridge weighs me further down. Each step slower than the last. I'm breathing, but there's no air and for that reason alone my chest shouldn't be heavy but it is.
"It's not safe here."
The faintly familiar voice causing me to spin around, but it's slow and pained.
"You need to leave."
There's nothing there. Just a voice from so long ago. Turning back to where I was heading there's nothing. No wind. No movement. Nothing other than me and this bridge and this voice. "Where am I?" My words as distorted as this place.
"You need to leave here now Bo."
Fighting this invisible weight I turn to find him. Brown eyes staring into mine and for a moment I forget everything. For a moment I'm not me, but a version of myself from so long ago. My arms wrapping around his neck, lips pressed to his. "You're not Dyson." I pull back, realizing there's something missing from his eyes.
"No."
"Who are you?" Taking a single step backward, my heart racing but even that seems to pale. "Who are you?"
"You shouldn't be here."
"Yeah. You said that…like a million times already."
"It's true."
"How about telling me where here is?"
"I can't."
"How about why I'm…no wait, lemme guess. You can't."
"It's not safe here."
"Jesus you're like one of those little pull sting dolls we use to have, you know where they only had like four sayings."
"Bo."
"I know, I know I shouldn't be here but considering I don't know where the fuck here is I'm not feeling the urgency you are." Running my hands through my hair, I look up at the sky. "Wait a minute, I know where this is—Danielle use to draw this same picture over and over again."
The memory becoming fresh in my mind as the words pass my lips. But as I begin to come to grips with the odd reality a really weird look comes over Dyson's face. His features tighten as he steps away from me. I had readied myself to ask exactly where he thought he was running off too without giving me an explanation but something else catches my attention.
"Do you think because you call her Danielle that changes anything?"
The violent rustle of the trees in the background mixed with the equally violent waves of the stream began to show. The sudden lack of air became heavy and stale. Looking up into the sky the colors that were once the image of running colors dried together began to drip again. My skin beginning to burn with the rising temperature, sweat effortlessly dripping down my body. The surrealistic landscape around me melting as if it had all been made of wax and was now being set ablaze.
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Lauren's POV
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A knock comes on the door and I see her jump, the gun rising once more at me. She's ready to sign her own death warrant, but oddly enough I'm not quite ready to do so. I raise my hand, a reflex more than anything and her head tilts, smirk on her lips. Her finger remains on the trigger. Even from here I can see the hesitation in her eyes. She's debating it more now than ever.
"Not now."
"Yes my Queen, but-."
"Not now. Come back in several minutes."
"Yes my Queen." His voice wavers, but that's a thought for another time now.
"Do you ever grow tired of that?" She asks, refusing to lower the gun.
"In the beginning. It was trying."
"Always such big words."
"You don't do too bad yourself."
"I read."
"I did too, once upon a time."
"You don't read anymore? What, is it not Queen like?"
"I can read, I can do whatever I please…on paper. I still read, but not like I used to. Not why you do it."
"And why do I do it?"
"To teach yourself. To escape. I read a lot when I was enslaved. Mostly textbooks, all I was allowed. It's how I learned so much about the Fae."
"What happened?"
"I don't know. One day I turned around and I didn't need to learn anymore."
"And escape?"
"I'm not allowed to escape."
She hesitates, weapon lowering but she seems to be contemplating something. "Is this where I'm supposed to relate to you? Feel sorry?"
"I hate pity. I hated pity even when enslaved. Something that put me off slightly of my wife in the beginning. A part of her pitied me and I hated that."
"Got over it."
"I did. You learn that sometimes pitying comes from a place of caring."
"Why haven't you killed me yet?"
"I've seen enough blood shed tonight."
"So you'd let me kill you?"
"Again, it's highly improbably you would be able to."
"You'd let me try?"
Simply, I shrug. "I suppose if you did, it would be God's will."
"You're not religious."
"I can be, at times."
"How…Christian of you."
"You're so young to be filled with so much hate."
"It's all I've known."
"It's all you've chosen."
"I didn't choose this life." Anger washes over her features, hand gripping the handle. "This was done to me. By you."
"I'm sorry."
"Sorry?" She laughs.
"I'm sorry that you met someone along the way who distorted facts. I'm sorry that you are so prideful that it prevents you from accepting help." Standing, her weapon raises. "I'm sorry that your narrow and uninformed views prevent you from allowing others a better future." Slowly I step out from behind my desk, jaw clenching in pain as I feel the piece of metal move inside of myself. "I'm sorry that there is a possibility that one day you will realize the truth and have to live with the guilt of what you've done."
"Shut up."
"And above all, I am sorry that I failed you. Because at the end of the day whether you or any of those beyond the wall accept me, I am your Queen. I am a monster in a lot of stories Trini. But I am not the monster to yours, not really. Just a failed…mother. I've wondered so many times through the years why I fail my children as a mother so often. I connect to them, but not the way Bo does. It wasn't until tonight that I realized why. I have trouble connecting to my own children because I have so many." My hand grips the edge of the desk. "My children, those I gave birth to and those my wife gave birth to have an amazing mother. One who is always there for them, who allows me to not be there. So I can be there for everyone else."
"You're not my…"
"But I am." I nod. "And I believe a part of you knows that. Otherwise you wouldn't be here. You wouldn't hesitate. You wouldn't look for answers, desperate for something. Desperate for answers that will never satisfy you."
"I don't want anything from you." The tears well in her eyes, and she's so close to pulling the trigger now.
"Wanting and needing are two different things." Drawing in a deep, painful breath I hesitate myself. "You have a choice, my guard will be back soon which means time is running out. You can try to kill me, you'll fail and you'll die."
"I'm not afraid of death."
Slightly smirking to myself, ignoring the massive pain ripping through me in waves I cut across the room in a heartbeat, hand around her throat as I press her into the wall. One hand wrapped around her throat the other around her hand, keeping her from dropping her weapon. Her features tense and she gives me the best 'fuck you' look she can, but just as expected her eyes tell a different story. Her eyes narrow and she's trying not to be afraid but it grows by the moment.
"You have something to lose." I whisper. "Maybe you didn't realize until this moment, but that glimmer of fear lingering in the depth of your eyes tells a different story."
"I…don't."
"Then," Gripping her hand, I guide it up beneath my chin. "Pull the trigger. If one of these were to kill me, never has there been an easier opportunity."
"S-stop."
"Pull the trigger and kill me. Take your shot and take your vengeance. The guards will come and death will follow. Or take the other door over there, and live another day."
"Why."
"Because once I was lost too."
I feel the barrel press up against my skin. Hear the trigger pull back ever so slightly. Her eyes narrow, a rage tearing through them like wildfire, but there is still a fear there. The trigger pulls back just a little more and I'm nearly sure she will do it this time. There's a single heartbeat where everything is still. Everything in the world falls away other than us. And the moment I'm sure she's about to finish this…she lowers the gun and she relaxes against the wall.
"Next time we meet…I will not hesitate." She promises.
"Hold onto it." Slowly I step away. "Whatever it is that causes you to fear death. Ultimately it will make you stronger." She says nothing, only skirts along the wall until she reaches the other door. Her hand on the doorknob. "Your grandfather was a brother once. I've had a lot of…brothers through the years. I've lost nearly all of them. But I remember each. Malik was a great man."
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Bo's POV
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Opening my eyes a rush of relief comes over me…for a moment. No longer a prisoner of…a tormented child's water-colored painting, now I find myself in a world all too familiar. All around me dozens upon dozens of steel and glass skyscrapers reaching far up into the sky. A brilliant vision built in my wife's vision. Everything built in her vision. It's almost funny. The beings were created in God's image while the world was built in my wife's vision.
'You almost sound resentful.'
These colors no longer running into one another, no longer bleached…these are dark and harsh.
A once perfectly blue sky turned into the color of blood, flashes of lightening illuminating the rubble, deserted street I find myself staring down. The buildings were composed of glass so dark there seemed to be an abyss behind each pane. Feeling a shiver spread through myself I walk the four steps off the sidewalk into the street. From the broken, uneven ground large vines of twisted crawling ivy spread up the sides of the buildings desperately reaching for the heavens. Throughout the chunks that were once a street, hundreds of pieces of paper and debris blanketed them. Several deserted cars that were scattered around were covered in spray paint, peeling paint, rust or had been burned out until every single piece of glass had been broken out of them. The trees that were normally planted along the curbside to add a touch of green to the city were withered and leafless, their gnarled arms reached down towards the sidewalk.
"You need to leave here."
"Son of a bitch." I mumble to myself, another faintly familiar voice.
"Bo."
"Not going to…Hale." I pause as he emerges from behind a building. "Let me guess, you're not really Hale, just like that wasn't really Dyson."
"You need to leave right now."
"You—whoever you are, are on repeat. I get it. I need to leave, well let me tell you something bub, if I could I would."
"Would you?"
"Of course." I roll my eyes, walking passed him looking from building to building. He doesn't speak again but I feel him close behind.
Nearing a gaping hole in the ground spreading from one building through the sidewalk and street to it's mirror image. Carefully leaning over I peer down into the abyss, my eyes widening at what I find. I had expected nothing, darkness, maybe lava—maybe anything given my current situation yet I can't help the shock. Millions upon millions of gallons of blood were flowing down this makeshift river in the middle of this apocalyptic city. Small bubbles would rise to the surface every so often in no set pattern yet my eyes seem to catch every single one. Floating in between the bubbles are bodies, some completely intact others mostly while some were nothing more than a single limb.
Despite the carnage as a whole I find my eyes locking with the cold, lifeless eyes seemingly staring right back into her own. It was a girl, mid-twenties, attractive features, in fact the girl reminded me of myself in a way. I don't recognize her so I'm not completely sure why this one particular body draws my attention over the dozens of others but it does.
"You're once sick pup…far sicker than anyone has ever given you credit for."
Clenching my jaw at this voice I take a deep breath not sure what to expect when I turn around. This voice isn't Dyson's or Hale's, no most certainly not theirs. This one is surprisingly a woman's voice, faintly familiar yet I can't place it, I can't even place the speech pattern. Taking another breath preparing for whatever it is I would be facing, nothing could prepare me for this.
Leaning against a burned-out SUV the same model as the one Iel had driven into Akuma so many years ago, the memories coming to the forefront of my mind, though only for a moment. The woman wore impossibly tight, low cut, black leather pants that hung just onto the curve of her hips. A tight, black, spaghetti strapped top that's hem ended just below her belly button giving just a teasing peak along with thigh high black stiletto heeled boots that would drive the old Kenz crazy. The nails on her hands painted a perfect black as were her lips.
Her long jet black hair hung limp and loose down to the middle of her shoulders, her eyes were twin pools of deep dark inky blackness. Her skin was a creamy bronze, a shade people paid hundreds of dollars trying to achieve but rarely ever got it right. Her face though was by far the most outstanding thing about her, this woman not just someone I recognize or even know.
The face I find myself staring at is my own.
"Holy shit. This is hell isn't it, I'm dead right? No, I don't feel dead—I don't think. No, I'm not dead," I shake my head. "I'm sick and I have a brain tumor—no I'm an ascended Fae I can't get terminally ill—maybe its syphilis and my brain is rotting. No, I've only been with Lauren and she's only been with me—or at least she better only be with me. I've got it—I'm unconscious somewhere with blood loss and this is just a hallucination that I will wake up from any minute." I nod to myself, running my hand through my hair.
"Are you done?"
"Ye-yeah,"
"Good you were giving me a migraine."
"You know I think prefer my dead boyfriend."
"Oh I bet you do sweetheart," the woman raises an eyebrow and gives me a toothy smirk. "Didn't think I saw that kiss? Aren't you married-or should I say we?" she snorted holding up her left hand wiggling her fingers, our rings like our faces identical.
"It wasn't like that."
"Really? Seemed like it to me, you see wolfy and you're jumping all over him. Interesting, Freud would have a field day with this."
"It wasn't romantic it was like a friend."
"Didn't see you jumping on Hale like that, guess he wasn't that good'a friend."
"It wasn't—I don't need to justify myself to you. You're a hallucination."
"Well you're half right."
"I'm done playing games, I want out." looking up at the violent sky, fear growing to the point that my hands began to shake. "I want out! You hear me! Let me out!"
"What is this, I know what you did last summer? Please stop being so mellow dramatic, Jenny Hewitt couldn't pull off the whole screaming into the sky and neither can you."
"What are you? Can you let me out of here? Is this your—whatever you are?"
"Me? No, believe me I don't wanna spend any more time with you then I already do."
"Let me guess I'm supposed to be all intrigued and ask what that means and then we'll play another round of twenty questions where you will be all bitchy and cryptic—no thanks I have four teenagers for that." I take three steps forward.
"Sweetheart, you had your badass card revoked a long time ago, getting angry and in my face dose nothing for me."
"Either help me get out of here or go play with my other hallucinations." My teeth gritting, stomping back over to the edge of the blood river.
"I can't help you out of here because I didn't bring you here."
"Well can Dyson or Hale—what about anyone else? You got anyone else lurking around here?"
"I don't know, didn't do them either."
"Well then what do you do here?"
"You really don't get it do ya'?"
"No, I guess I don't." I snap, spinning back around to face her.
"You want to wake up then wake up. You want a change of scenery then—change it."
"Oh so just like that? Gee, why didn't I think of that?"
"This is your show…you're in control."
"Mine?"
"Mmhm. Your head…or should I say our head."
"Our head?" I pause, my mind rushing over itself. This street, the SUV—this is my memory, the street where we killed Akuma and lost Hale, Eric and Audrey. Before this I was literately in Danielle's picture—another memory of my own. Thinking back to the image of Dyson at the edge of the bridge, his form began to melt away leaving an image of myself. Thinking back to Hale, his image too was no different. "My mind. This is my mind." I let out with a wave of fear settling in the pit of my stomach like a brick. Looking back over the frightening landscape that I had created. "You're all me."
"Yes, well no—well yes—sorta."
"I'm going insane."
"Dyson, Hale—they were like your conscious trying to help you cope, appearing to you as welcomed images. Me on the other hand well—I'm you. A better dressed, more badass, funner, sexier—this could go on a while. Let's just say we're sorta one of the same."
"Right." I shake my head needlessly. "Right. I've lost my mind, Lauren losses it and she goes on killing sprees. Me? I lose it and I trap myself in the creepiest place of all time with myself—wonderful."
"Hey, I don't appreciate the company either."
"Okay." shaking my head once again, unable to deal with everything I turn back around staring down into the blood river waiting for an answer.
"Are you ready to give up the driver's seat?"
"What?"
"Okay—how does Lauren have conversations with you?"
"Screw you very much."
"Look, You are basically all the crap—you know humanity, lingering reminiscence of aded humanness, the farm girl with the homemade pies and town dances. The part that couldn't kill her insane freak of a daughter. The part that runs away from her problems. All the crap. Me on the other hand am the succubus, the badass, the one who makes Lauren cum extra hard when you let me out to play."
"Watch it."
"Or what? You gonna scowl at me? You have no power here little girl. We're the same—but we're not. I'm always around waiting to play, whispering to you to do those naughty little things you secretly want to do. But you always remain in the driver's seat. Sadly, I really think Lauren would enjoy me coming out to play a bit more—especially after that honeymoon. Gotta give you props though, luring her back into darkness was great."
"Shut up,"
"Or what?" She repeats. "Don't blame me champ, you did this. You worked so hard to control yourself, to separate yourself from what you really are that you actually did it." She holds her arms out from her sides with a smirk. "You did it sweetheart."
"I'm supposed to believe that this is my mind, that this my head and I somehow managed to what, lock you away? Then why can't I leave?"
"I don't know honestly. Why are you recreating Danni's twisted fantasy? Why are you trying to pull your wife back into darkness? Why are you dipping into darkness without any help from me? Why are you creating streams of dead bodies? If you ask me I think there is a little something wrong with you to be honest."
"This is—this is a hallucination. I remember now, I remember it all. The attack and I remember being half conscious in the hospital, that is all this is. A bad dream due to the trauma and blood loss and drugs."
"Hm, that so?"
"Yeah,"
"Nice Lauren impression. Rationalize it all away."
"I want to wake up. I want to wake up." I repeat over and over again, each time harsher than the last until it was a yell. The sound of my voice and my mirror-self's laugh filling my ringing ears.
.
Lauren's POV
.
"Babe." I let out for the umpteenth time tonight, grabbing ahold of her shoulders as she thrashes against the hospital bed. "Babe. Babe…Bo wake up."
"I want to wake up!" She screams over and over again.
"Baby, baby you are." My hands grabbing her face. Her eyes wide open now, but she's not with me. "Bo listen to my voice. You're okay. You are awake and you are safe. I am right here."
"L-lauren?"
"Yes, Bo it's me."
"Lauren."
"It's me." I repeat, as she calms. My hands falling from her face.
"Lauren…."
She doesn't speak again for a long while, she doesn't move either. She stares up at the ceiling. After a while I remove the restraints from her wrists and then her ankles. They had assured me it was for her safety. "Are you okay?" I bring myself to ask after exactly forty-one minutes of silence.
"I um," Stray tears fall from the corners of her eyes, but she nods. "Eventually I will be."
"Do you want to talk about it?"
"No." She nearly yells, features tensing enough to cause me to take a step backward. "I'm sorry, I just…not now."
"I understand. Just remember whatever you saw my love," My hand resting on her shin. "It wasn't real. They were only hallucinations brought on by tremendous stress and trauma of the night's events. Not to mention the several drugs you were given as well as the bleeding that occurred briefly in your brain."
'That's it…rationalize it all away.'
"I'm sorry, just…" She takes a breath. "How is Sean?"
"He is okay. His injuries are healing but it's going to take some time since he hasn't fed much lately and he won't speak but-he'll be okay. He's strong. He is our son, and if we are anything it's fighters so—it'll be okay."
"Will it?"
"Of course my love."
Dani's Voice Over:
It will make it all the sweeter when you realize that this…
…Well this…
Was nothing at all.