Chapter 16/Awakening
I felt a hand on my forehead but I did not open my eyes right away, afraid that it would be her again. Her dark lips curling upwards seductively and her brown eyes flashing with a look that made my limbs grow cold. I didn't want to have to deal with irrational and unwanted feelings at the moment. Everywhere on my body I felt pain. In my head it was especially agonizing. The last thing I remembered consciously seeing was that monster's fist coming at me. Then had come that dream. That really, very strange dream.
I heard a sigh of impatience come from somewhere above me and cool fingers pushed my dark hair back before tapping my forehead sharply with a single slender finger.
"Come on Alex, I know you're awake. Open your eyes, you idiot. You're worrying me."
That was definitely not Megan's voice. I cracked open an eye and squinted up into the concerned face of Violet Walker.
"Oh, it's you," I said in a tone of indifference. I was rewarded for my impertinence with a hard smack on my arm. "Ow."
"That's all you say?" she exclaimed hotly. "You're unconscious for a week and you wake up and the first thing you say to me is 'it's you'?!"
I grimaced and forced myself up into a sitting position, inhaling sharply at the pain in my ribcage. I knew I must have broken several of my ribs. I was somewhat shocked by her words. Had I really been unconscious that long? Looking into Violet's enraged face I gave her a lopsided smile.
"So, Vi, you didn't miss me, did you?"
She pursed her lips but I could see she was fighting a smile. "Maybe a little," she said lightly.
I laughed . . . and instantly regretted it as I started coughing and the pain in my chest worsened. Violet's expression turned to one of worry and she stood from her seat beside me and hurriedly forced me to lie down again. I frowned but she shook her head.
"It's better for you to lie still, really." She pulled the covers up and then sat down again, only this time closer. Leaning forward she stroked my hair back gently, her fingers feeling cool against my flushed skin.
"Why did you do it, Alex?" she asked in a pleading tone, and I was surprised to hear a small sob hidden in her voice. I did not need my powers to feel the wave of concern, fear, and affection flowing from her onto my broken body. The concern did not surprise me, but the fear and affection did. I frowned slightly as I realized that the fear was not for herself, but for me. And the affection . . . I really did not know how that factored in. It was just there.
"I needed to know," I murmured, avoiding her gaze. "Karl is my friend."
"Hey," she said gruffly, and took my chin in her hand, turning my face toward her. "You are my friend." She released my chin and stroked my pale cheek with her knuckle. "And I don't like to see my friends get hurt," she added in a quiet voice full of what seemed to be regret. Once again I wondered what had happened to bring her here.
Slowly she began to pull back her hand. I reached up and grabbed her wrist. "Violet," I said in a tone that demanded her attention. "Why are you here?"
Her expression was instantly guarded. "I was worried about you," she said, gently trying to pry her arm from me. I tightened my grip.
"No," I half-growled in impatience. I tired of not knowing the things that were going on in this Academy. "I don't mean here. I want to know why you are here in this Academy."
"That's none of your business," Violet said with a hard glare, tugging harder at her arm. I pulled myself up by the hand that still held her wrist in a death grip, staring grimly into her eyes.
"Violet, I've worked with you in the training dome. I've felt your emotions. You're not like the others, I can tell. You don't belong here."
She looked at me with sad eyes. "Neither do you, Alex," she said in a soft voice. Something about her words tugged at my insides, but I let it pass for now. We were talking about her.
"Don't change the subject," I warned her with a pointed look. Her eyes danced away from mine, focusing on the stark white bed sheets that covered me.
"My-my place is here," she said. My grip on her wrist tightened and she winced. I realized I was hurting her and so I quickly let go. She took back her arm and began rubbing the now reddened wrist gently. I tried not to feel guilty about it.
"I don't believe that," I told her obstinately. "Do you seriously want to go out there when you graduate and hurt, maim, and kill people all so Royal Pain can have her empire or whatever?"
Violet's lips tightened. "You couldn't understand," she said firmly.
"Then help me understand!" I yelled. My chest felt like it was exploding, the pain was so great. "Think about your family? Do you want to hurt them? I know Magenta. I've felt her feelings. She's in pain, Violet. Don't you think you might be the cause of that?"
"I know I am!" she cried suddenly. "That's why I left! I was hurting them!"
"You're hurting them even more! Nothing has changed, you just made it worse!" I wondered vaguely if anyone could hear us outside the room and, if they did, wondered if they would storm in to tell us to shut up.
"I didn't mean to!" She suddenly buried her face in her hands, her body shaking with sobs. "I didn't mean to."
I grimaced, wondering if my powers of Empathy were working even with the power draining installations in the school. I moved closer to her and cautiously wrapped my arms around her trembling shoulders, holding her close and feeling like a monster for making her cry. I stroked her soft, black hair gently and rested my cheek against the top of her head as she moved slightly to the side in order to fit better against my chest with the least possible damage to my aching ribs.
"Gosh Vi," I muttered. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make you cry."
She only sobbed harder. I bit down on my lip ring and held back a sigh at my own stupidity. I rubbed her back comfortingly.
"Please don't cry," I begged, feeling incredibly awkward. I could feel her tears leaking through her hands and soaking into my white infirmary shirt. I sighed then, realizing that anything I said at this point would not help.
Finally her tears died down enough for her to pull away, wiping at her eyes and looking rather sheepish. "Sorry," she said, looking at my wet shirt guiltily. I waved her off.
"Don't worry about it." I waited patiently.
When she had sufficiently gotten her cheeks to a level of preferred dryness, she looked up at me with red-rimmed eyes.
"I'm a murderer, Alex," she said in a dull voice, with no introduction or speech before hand. I felt a cold weight drop in my stomach.
"That can't be right," I said with a frown. "I can't see you killing anyone."
She looked at me with a haunted expression that made my blood run cold. It was a worse feeling then when Megan looked at me. I shook my head slowly, the movement growing swifter as I continued.
"No," I said firmly. "No I refuse to believe it. Something must have happened. A-a misunderstanding or something." I realized I was growing desperate in my attempt to keep Violet pure and good in my mind. She gave me a small, sad smile as if she knew that was exactly what I was trying to do.
"It's the truth. Take it or leave it." She reached over and took my shoulder, gently guiding me back down toward the pillows. I had to admit I felt some relief as my body relaxed back onto the bed.
"I still say it's a misunderstanding," I insisted, frowning up at her. My head felt like seven little dwarfs were mining jewels in it.
"Drop it, Alex," she warned harshly, some of her old bitterness and sternness returning. As she looked down at me however, her eyes softened. Bending over, she gently placed a kiss on my forehead. I looked quizzically up at her, wondering what that had been for.
She stared into my eyes; her face still only inches from mine. "Huh," she said softly. "That's interesting."
I swallowed and blinked blankly. "What?" I asked, puzzled by her words and scrutiny.
"Your eyes," she said in a thoughtful tone. "They're dark brown. I could have sworn they were black."
My expression was still incredibly blank as she straightened and smiled vaguely down at me, before turning and leaving the room. My eyes followed her, a myriad of thoughts bombarding my mind. All the information about Violet made its way through my thought process system, but strangely one thing stuck with me.
As I watched her leave I realized that she was the first one to ever notice: my eyes were not black like everyone always thought. My eyes were dark brown.
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I was released from the infirmary a couple days later. They told me I'd have to come back every once in a while for pain medication. My ribs were still mending and had to be wrapped tightly in gauze and such. My face still felt pretty battered, and when I looked in the mirror the day I was released I had to grimace. I had a black eye, a swollen lip, and a large bruise covering my cheekbone. Sighing, I turned away from my reflection.
The first order of business was to sit down and endure another group training session in the dome. I sat down gingerly next to Karl who gave me a sympathetic look. Chanel glanced at me and looked over my bruises thoughtfully. I knew she wanted to heal them, but no one could use their powers until they were in the dome. I hoped they would not pick me to fight anyone. I was in no way in shape.
Thankfully they never did pick me. Instead they picked several other students I did not recognize. I tried to concentrate on the fighting styles to try to learn from them, but every time I saw blood and every time I heard bone crunch, I flinched and felt sick to my stomach. Time in the Penalty Room had affected me, and not in a way that was helpful at this time.
After a couple matches Gabe was called up along with some kid named Watson that I did not know. They entered the training dome and I saw that Gabe must have bribed a technopath or something because attached to his palm was a small mechanism. I wondered briefly what it was for but did not have to wonder long for suddenly a stream of fire shot from his hands toward the other boy. The boy twisted away and suddenly morphed into what looked like a smaller version of the Hulk. He took a swing at Gabe, but Gabriel nimble as a cat, as always, ducked and weaved and caught the other kid right in the face with a blast of fire.
The mini-Hulk roared in pain and anger in a way that made me cringe. Beside me Chanel was leaning forward, watching the match eagerly. Karl was twitching harder than ever. I glanced at him worriedly, hoping he would not throw himself into convulsions. I laid a hand on his shoulder and he looked back at me, calming down somewhat at my reassuring grasp.
I turned my attention back to the dome, gritting my teeth slightly. Gabriel was obviously winning. The mini-Hulk was too busy trying to keep away from the fire to make much more of an attack on the pyrokinetic. At one point his massive fist did smack Gabe across the dome and he was very still for a few long, tense seconds. Then he struggled to his feet, spewing out even more fire at mini-Hulk.
Finally mini-Hulk could not take the pain anymore. He shrank back to his normal size and form and I inhaled sharply when I saw that he was covered in burns. However my horror did not stop there. Instead of ending the match and letting the medics take the kid away, Gabe continued to direct his fire on the kid. I was not close enough to see Gabe's expression, but when I peered closer I could see the lights flashing off his slightly pointed teeth. He was grinning. My stomach heaved and I felt like I was going to be sick.
"Why doesn't he stop?" I cried, turning to Chanel with wide eyes.
"Why should he?" she asked indifferently, shrugging.
"He's killing him!" I said, turning to Karl. The boy only flinched and avoided my gaze. I stood up swiftly, making my way out of the benches and down the steps toward the dome, knowing that I needed to stop Gabe. As I got closer I could begin to smell smoke and the scent of burning flesh. It was enough to make my lunch churn and start making its way up my throat. I held it back resolutely. Also I began to see Gabe more clearly as I drew nearer. I could tell he was enjoying himself.
Suddenly I was grabbed from behind and dragged into the crowd of cheering, yelling villains-in-training. I struggled to get out of the person's grasp but he or she only held me tighter. I gasped in pain as the person's arms strained against my ribs. The arms suddenly let go and I pitched forward, falling to the ground and hitting my head on the edge of one of the bleachers. For a moment everything went dark.
When I opened my eyes again, the cheering and yelling had stopped and kids were milling about, making their way to the doors. I sat up and rubbed my head gingerly, wincing at the pain and then the memory of what had just happened.
"Have I ever told you how much you're an idiot, Newton?" Josh's exasperated tone caused me to look up, frowning slightly as I observed him standing over me, his arms folded, a frown to rival mine on his face.
"No, I don't think you have," I muttered, grabbing the edge of a bench and pulling myself up. I swayed slightly as I stood, my head pounding.
"Well, you're a very big idiot. What did you think you were doing? Running toward the dome like that. You want another hour in the Penalty Room?"
It had only been an hour? It felt like days. I rubbed my forehead wearily.
"He was going to kill him," I muttered in my defense, hoping he would understand. Instead he shocked me by giving a harsh laugh.
"Of course he was. That was the plan."
I stared at him. "What?" I gasped out, my throat suddenly feeling very dry.
"The guy was a spy from the Bureau. We had to eliminate him. They chose Gabe to do it as a sort of test. He passed. He'll make almost as good a villain as his uncle, if not a better one."
I was completely aghast. "So Gabe . . . killed him?"
"Yeah, that's what I just said. Newton, you okay?" He frowned at me and took a step closer. I stepped back.
"I-I'm fine," I said, scrambling to think of a good excuse to leave. "Excuse me," I said finally and hurried out of the room.
I ran first to the restroom and threw up in the toilet, safely hidden in the stall. I sank the ground and reached over wearily to flush away the junk that had been fighting its way out for a while now. I leaned my head against the stall door and closed my eyes, taking several deep breaths. As I sat there I started thinking. And as I thought I began to realize some things. As if my eyes had just been opened.
What the heck was I doing here? I could never, ever kill someone like that in cold blood. My coming here had been a really bad idea: a rash, spur-of-the-moment idea that I had gotten while I was upset. I wished I could go back in time and change everything. But obviously I couldn't do that so I decided right then and there to get out.
Pushing myself up off the floor, I stumbled out of the stall and out of the restroom. There was one person I could think of that could possibly help me. I made my way toward her room now. Knocking almost frantically on her door, my ribs ached and burned as my chest heaved with my heavy breathing.
She opened it slowly and stared at me. "Alex?" she said, frowning slightly. "Geez, you look terrible." She glanced down the hall before grabbing my arm and leading me inside. She set me down in the corner chair and then stood back, crossing her arms.
"What's wrong?" she asked, a flicker of worry crossing her features. She had not spoken to me since our confrontation in the infirmary, but all that seemed forgotten now.
"I need to get out of here," I said, trying to breathe normally. "You were right. I'm not villain-material. There's no way I can do things like that. It's-it's evil!" It was the best word I could come up with to describe Gabriel's actions in the dome.
Violet's face was impassive. "Yes," she said softly. "It is."
I looked up into her face almost pleadingly. "I'm not evil, Vi. I don't think I could ever be." I thought back to my strange dream with the memories of my first year at Sky High. Was this the answer the little girl told me I had? Kristi Drake had called me a hero. I didn't know if I was ready to be a hero, but I knew now that I could never be a villain.
Violet's expression softened and she suddenly walked over and wrapped her arms gently around me. I stiffened somewhat at the contact, but I let her hold me as I tried to gather myself. My body trembled slightly, and she stoked my head tenderly.
"I know, honey, I know," she murmured, and the endearment surprised me. However it somehow seemed like something she would say. Not the hardened Violet that came to the Academy, but the other Violet. Magenta's sister. I could just see her in my mind comforting her younger sister just like this, during a thunderstorm, or after a fight at school, or whatever Magenta's middle school fears and hardships had been.
This was the Violet I saw and knew did not belong here anymore than I did.
I pulled back and stared at her seriously. "You should go too," I told her. "Let's both get away from this place. You know as well as I do that neither of us belongs here. Please, Violet."
She looked back at me solemnly, pushing back my black hair and frowning slightly before moving away and standing, looking thoughtful.
"We should go for a walk," she said abruptly in her normal, brisk tone. I started in surprise.
"Huh?"
She pursed her lips and turned toward the door. "You stay right here," she told me, before slipping out of the room and shutting the door behind her.
I stared after her dubiously, before sighing and sliding off the chair in order to lie on the floor on my back, resting my ribs and trying to sort out my thoughts. I didn't know why Violet suddenly wanted to take a walk but hoped it had something to do with escaping. I closed my eyes and wished, hoped, prayed that Ana Lucia had not given up on me and still wanted me back. I could see her face in my head and smiled slightly.
However something was different. I saw her just as clearly in my mind as if I had just seen her yesterday, but what I felt when I saw her face was different than what I had always felt before. The love had . . . not lessened, but changed. It confused me, but for some reason I felt like I was not in love with her anymore.
Of course I loved her, and I could feel that. I loved her just as dearly as a brother would. But suddenly I felt no more than that. Like a brother. I frowned slightly but did not have the strength to try and figure out what had caused the change. Instead I allowed myself to begin drifting in and out of consciousness, the pain that still coursed through my body decreasing to a dull ache and before I knew it I had passed out.
Well I know there's underlying stuff going on. But I wonder if anyone else does. Hmmm . .
Review and tell me what you think! :-D