iCarly: iMeet the Relatives, Chapter 15: Decisions

I don't own iCarly…of course.

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Chapter 15: Decisions

There was more rumbling, and Carly could feel some sense or set of senses probing her. It made her feel naked, even though she knew human nudity didn't have any meaning here. Psychologically, now….that was a different story. {{You are sincere in this.}} Carly said nothing. Neither did the other two, being in what looked to be a kind of shock.

The Black Throne rumbled some more, and Carly was reminded of an Earthly thunderstorm back in Seattle. Seattle itself….home…seemed so distant now.

{{Very well. Demon Adara will accompany you back to the Earth realm. Demon Adara!}} Jillian was snapped out of her funk at being addressed. {{You will accompany Angel Gryphon back to Earth, and you will assist him in investigating this matter of the Darkness's becoming more active. You will report to him, and to us. How much aid you can give him will decide your fate. Do well, and you will be reinstated at your previous rank, and be allowed to collect souls. Fail, and….the fire pits await. Have we made our decision clear?"

Carly could hear the demon girl's gulp from several feet away. She cast a look at Gryphon, and the faintest expression of nausea rippled over her face. "Are—are you absolutely sure the third level fire pit stokers couldn't use an extra hand?"

{{Angel Gryphon. While we have no jurisdiction over you, it is our wish that you will work with demon Adara. Perhaps she can be of service to you.}}

"I…understand, sirs, your excellences. It…it will not be an easy adjustment for either of us."

{{Things that are easy are seldom worthwhile. We know you will be investigating this matter of the Darkness's incursion into both our universes as well as the Earth realm where you live. Jillian Adara can prove useful to you…or so your human consort seems to believe. Make the most of her presence there.

{{You have said you do not wish for her to be punished for that which she did not do. This is how you will prove this. In this way, you will assist her in becoming reinstated into our society…if that means anything to you.}}

Grif bowed slightly, not the full bow Jillian had done, but rather one of respect. Technically, he did not bow to these authorities at all. This was simply protocol. "I will do what I can."

{{Good. You may return to your point of entry.}}

All the way back, Carly was acutely conscious of the stares of Jillian, and of Grif. Why had she spoken up as she did? It was like she wasn't the one doing the talking….the words, the feelings came from somewhere else.

She didn't even like Jillian. So why had she spoken up in her defense?

…..

Earth, Grif's Apartment: "Okay," said Jillian, just now getting herself under control. "Now what?"

Grif turned to Carly. "Carly, what was that all about?"

"Grif, I don't know any more than you do. It—it was just like….the words just came to me, and I had to say 'em. I don't know why."

"Well," he said, rubbing his chin, "It looks like Jillian will be with us for a while yet." He turned to the demon girl. "Ground rules still apply. No predation, no feeding off others. Don't hurt anybody. And….I'm sure I'll think of some more as I go along."

Jillian was unusually silent. She'd gone and sat over on the couch, hands in her lap, expression downcast, not meeting any of their gazes. "Got it," she said. "Basically, if it feels good, don't do it."

"I'm sure they'll be exceptions, but that'll make a good rule of thumb for now. I'll check with Uncle Jemiah about food for you, but that shouldn't be a problem."

Still Jillian looked downcast. Carly had never seen the demoness look so….was dispirited the right word? Discouraged, maybe? "So…now what? I'm to work with you, to investigate this encroachment by the Darkness…how do we go about doing that? I hope you aren't expecting me to go down into that, that place!"

"No, I'm not. But first things first. Tomorrow, we find you a place to live. I get funds from home, but I doubt the Black Throne will cut you the same deal. But we'll see what we can find. And, in the meantime…." And here he cast a speculative eye on Carly, "maybe a good cover story is that you're working on a report or something on highly rated web shows. Carly, would you mind allowing Jillian to observe you, Sam, and the others in action?"

Carly was taken aback. Ever since she'd spoken up, in front of the Black Throne (whoever and whatever that was; she still wasn't sure), she'd still been processing what had happened. Where had those words come from? All worlds, all universes, in danger? Why had she said that?

But Grif's words shocked her out of her reverie. "Uh, well, I, uh, guess not…." Then she remembered Spencer. "Oh, wait…."

Both Grif and Jillian saw her concerns in her mind simultaneously. Jillian spoke up first, rolling her eyes. "Oh, I'll leave him alone. I wasn't ever gonna hurt him anyway. I just wanted to, to have some fun. You know. Just like a human would, on a date. We don't…we don't have that custom, and it's kinda fun to, to be around someone like that, doing things together. But if it'll make you more comfortable, I'll keep my distance."

"Good deal." Carly straightened up, and looked at Grif. "Mind taking me back to the apartment? I'm about out on my feet."

…..

The next few days were hectic. Grif managed to find Jillian an apartment in the same complex as his own, but several doors down. He helped her sign the papers, and paid the deposit and installment fees, clearly to her chagrin. She obviously hated being indebted to an angel.

But Carly noted that Jillian's overall demeanor remained subdued. She almost wished for the old snarky demoness back; this new version was…a little pitiful. Of course, Carly reminded herself, that might be the whole idea, since demons fed on emotions. Getting people to feel sorry for her could be a ploy to get a snack.

When Spencer heard that Jillian would be staying a bit longer, he could hardly contain his excitement. He helped Sam, Grif, and Carly move the demoness into her new digs. "This is great! I get to show you around Seattle! You're gonna love it here…"

"Uh, well, Spence….there's a problem with that," she said, pulling him off to one side. Carly and Grif watched, cautiously, from the side. "I'm afraid we can't see each other anymore."

Spencer was devastated. "What? Why?"

"It's just…it's complicated. But I'm gonna have to devote my time—all of it—to this project I'm working on, and it just won't leave any left over for, for recreation." Can't very well tell him I promised to stay away from him, not without blowing our cover. "Believe me, it's nothing to do with you. You…that other night was a great deal of fun for me, the most I've had in a long time. But, I just won't have the time for things like that anymore. I can't explain it any better than that."

"Oh." Spencer was crestfallen. "I…guess I see. Well, uh...I guess that's that, huh?" I guess this is a variation on the old "it's not you, it's me" send-off.

"I'm sorry, but, yeah, that's that." Her eyes followed him as he turned and walked away, dejectedly. After a moment, she looked away.

First time somebody's negative emotions hurt me, too.

The investigation team waited, their arms tied behind them, as their captors stood about, apparently not saying anything, yet Major Hendricks received the distinct impression that they were communicating in some silent way.

The team had been swiftly attacked and overwhelmed. The attackers appeared to be human-like beings wearing bright red tunics, black cloaks that fluttered in no breeze, black square-toed boots and belts, and carrying wicked-looking tridents, of all things. There was no sign of any sort of other weapon, no guns, knives, or anything else that one would normally consider standard. They'd descended upon the team with the suddenness of a lightning bolt, seemingly appearing from nowhere, overpowering both the scientists and the soldiers. There was simply no resisting their incredible strength and speed. After securing the prisoners, they'd just stood there, as though waiting, ignoring the humans' demands for an explanation. Major Hendricks, who was in charge of the military unit attached to the investigation team, couldn't shake the impression that these…beings…communicated by some means other than sound, judging from their facial expressions when they faced each other.

Finally, one turned to him, and spoke in clear, unaccented English. "You. You are in charge of this expedition?"

"I am. What's the meaning of this?"

"As a matter of fact, we're doing the same thing you are: investigating an anomaly. But you got here first, which means you've had time to gather more information. You will now share it with us."

"You've an incredibly poor way of asking. It could really use some improvement. I could recommend some outstanding people skills classes… Besides, we haven't found out anything, anyway. So you're wasting your time with us."

"Not necessarily." Here, the leader knelt down in front of Hendricks, his trident planted hilt-first on the ground in front of him, and transfixed him with an unbelievably probing stare. After a few minutes of silent inspection, during which Hendricks felt most uncomfortable, the leader turned to the others and said, "It appears we must find a Drs. Phillips and Weston. We must find out what they know."

One of the others, a female, attired just as the others were, asked, "What of these? Can we kill them?" There was an undercurrent of eagerness in her voice than sent chills down Hendricks' spine.

The leader looked back at the prisoners, tied with some strange substance that was not rope, and that seemed to contract and relax automatically to maintain its optimum position, keeping them immobile, but without binding or chaffing. "No," he said, finally. "Not yet, anyway. They could still prove to be useful. For now, we must find Phillips and Weston. You, you, and you," he said, pointing out three of the seven that had originally attacked. "You will track down these humans. The rest of you…see to the confinement of these here. Under no circumstances are they to leave or communicate with anyone. Meanwhile, I'll report to the Black Throne." And so saying, his cloak flipped up and around him, and he disappeared.

The others he'd delegated did likewise, the cloaks seemingly flapping up and over them on their own…and they were gone as if they'd never been there.

That left three to guard the prisoners. "Who are you people?" whispered Hendricks. He knew no country, no one, had the technology, the ability to do what he'd just witnessed.

One of the ones left behind gave him an odd look. "We're an investigative team, just like he said. We're from a place you call Hell, and we were sent to look into this phenomena, just like you, although for our own reasons, of course." He paused, raising an eyebrow and smiling slightly. "And it occurs to me that if you're very lucky, and if you behave yourselves, you'll be allowed to come back to Hell with us."

This is clearly a definition of "luck" they neglected to mention back at West Point, thought Hendricks, even as he struggled, uselessly, with his bonds.

To be continued….