Summary: "I think we should bring Sunny back."

Characters: Mel, Kyle, Ian, Doc, Jamie, Jared

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And so, without my consent, life went on. It did not seem right for life to continue as normal without Wanda. My only experiences of these caverns and tunnels had been gleaned through Wanda. She was a central part of my perception of this world. Some part of me expected life to come to a screeching halt in light of her absence. Needless to say, it did not.

Jared was a constant presence at my shoulder. Even in the short time since my return, I could not remember a time when I could not feel the warmth of his body next to mine or the feel of his gaze upon me. It got to be so commonplace that I felt almost naked without it. When daily life in the caves forced us more than an arm's reach apart, the familiar weight of his burning gaze was a near-constant sensation. It distracted me at times when I should have been focusing on the task at hand. My mind drifted ahead through the hours of work and conversation, skipping forward to the time when I would next find myself enveloped by his embrace. These kinds of daydreams often sparked a slow, inexorable burn in the region of my abdomen.

After that first day, Jamie's eyes had remained resolutely dry. His pain, at least, had been short-lived, for he was enlightened to Wanderer's state of hibernation by Doc the day after her removal. Back to his old cheerful self again, he spoke of her frequently. He talked as if the separation was a necessary evil, but one which he expected to be over soon. Almost every conversation brought some mention of Wanderer's return. To him, the event was unquestionable.

Though I wished for the same outcome no less fervently than my younger brother, I could not be so sure of its occurrence. Whenever the topic arose between us, unease twisted my stomach into unnatural shapes. Maggie and Sharon's furious faces kept flashing through my head. The Seeker's face joined theirs after I encountered the three women talking together in furtive, heated voices. I had been making the long trek down the south tunnel to see Doc when I ran into them. When they'd noted my presence, all conversation halted abruptly, and the three women eyed me with unmasked hostility and suspicion. I returned the gaze openly, though the sinister implications of such a secretive rendezvous made me uneasy. I was suddenly relieved that Ian had taken it upon himself to 'guard' Wanderer's cryotank.

Most everyone had heard news of my return and Wanderer's hibernation within 48 hours of the event, but by some unhappy chance, Ian was the last to find out. This is perhaps due to his complete self-absorption at the time, coupled with his inability to remain in the same general vicinity of Jared or me for any length of time. Most surprising of all, however, turned out to be the bearer of the news: Kyle managed to tear himself away from Jodi's bedside long enough to pull his lovesick brother's head out of the sand.

Once aware that all hope was not lost, Ian tore down the southern tunnel like a man possessed. It has since been rather jokingly suggested that he set a record for the fastest one-way trip down to Doc's secluded cave. Upon arrival, he pulled the cryotank into his arms as gently as if he were afraid it might shatter in his hands. Once the tank was in his embrace, he refused to put it down for more than a moment and vehemently denied anyone else the privilege of touching it. At night, he fell asleep with his arms curled around the rectangular form, and in the morning he awoke in the same position. I knew from Wanda's memories that it was Ian's habit to sprawl across his mattress once unconsciousness had subdued him, but I'm sure that his arms never once relinquished their hold on that cryotank, conscious or not.

The pain had left his eyes since he'd acquired possession the cryotank, and if he didn't quite forgive Jared and me for our parts in separating him from his love, he certainly did a good job of forgetting. During the times when I had a chance to speak to him, the conversation invariably centered on Wanda. I explained, as best I could, her plan to leave us. That particular discussion brought pain to his eyes again, and I felt wretched for putting it there. I did my best to conceal the battle that I was waging against a faint but insistent echo of that pain in my own heart. Loving Ian hurt. I felt as though I was being torn apart along the vague line that demarcated the boundary between heart and soul.

I told him everything I could I remember. I told him how completely and unquestionably she'd loved him. I told him the story of how she'd come-unwillingly-to love Jared. I told him how it had pained her, how she'd been so hurt by his unmasked revulsion and hatred of her, and I could not fail to see the irony of that particular conversation. We talked endlessly about Wanderer's thoughts, for he never seemed to run out of questions regarding the way her mind worked. Ian consumed my words like a man who had been drowning might consume oxygen. He seemed almost jealous at times, like he envied me the intimacy which resulted from sharing a consciousness.

A lot of my time was spent down the southern tunnel. Between my Wanda-centric conversations with one brother and my frequent presence at Jodi's bedside in an attempt to help the other, I probably saw more of that one small cave than most of the other caverns and tunnels combined (excepting perhaps the room which Jared and I shared).

Jamie had moved out of the small room shortly after my return. He made some gruff excuse about the whole affair, but his face was red and he couldn't meet my eye. Through my amusement, I rather felt sorry for him. He'd long since learned about the birds and the bees, and needed no further explanation of my relationship with Jared.

Doc allowed Kyle to continue his endeavour to reawaken Jodi for eight days after Sunny's removal. On the ninth day, he spoke up. The kind doctor chose his words carefully when he approached the notoriously short-tempered O'Shea brother. On the whole, however, Kyle remained remarkably calm through the discussion.

"Kyle, I know Jodi is important to you, but if you continue in this line of inquiry, it could have detrimental effects on her health." Doc's tone was not unkind.

The dark haired man was silent for a moment. His face was careworn and weary, as if he'd aged five years in nine short days. "Explain."

Doc sighed, stuffing his hands into his pockets. "I'm not talking about nutrition or hydration," he commenced, his eyes drifting to the IV that stuck out of the unconscious woman's arm. "If she remains inactive like this for much longer, her muscles will start to atrophy."

Kyle swallowed, his jaw clenching. "In plain English?"

Doc allowed himself a brief smile. "Muscle atrophy," he repeated. "When an individual stops exercising for prolonged periods of time, the muscle begins to waste away. It was a problem most often encountered with astronauts who were stationed in low-gravity conditions for indefinite lengths of time. In that case, a rigorous workout was developed to counteract the effect of reduced gravitational forces. As you can see, that is not an option here."

"What are you saying?"

Doc pulled one hand out of a pocket to rub his face tiredly. "If we keep her in this inactive state much longer," he explained, " Jodi's muscles will dissolve. When—if—she wakes up, she'll be weak. Like a baby. It would take time to rebuild the muscle necessary even for daily activity—"

"What are you saying?" Kyle interrupted Doc abruptly. His voice was harsh with impatience.

There was a heavy pause.

"I think we should bring Sunny back."

The pronouncement did not shock me. Doc had approached me a few days after my reawakening with this very idea upon his lips. He'd sought my assistance, for though he proved to be skilled the art of removing souls, he was lost as to how one might go about inserting one. This is where I come in. Having had a direct link to Wanderer's mind, her memories of the procedure were easily available to me, and I was a necessary part of the proceedings.

Kyle lowered his head and stared at the ground. I watched him as the moments turned into minutes, and I was unable to decipher the tenor of his thoughts. It seemed to me that many hours had passed before Kyle spoke again.

"Do it."