Chapter 3-Release and Unease
It was four days later when Thrax was well enough to leave. They had removed the bandages that covered his right side and he looked good as new. His shoulder was back in place, but he still had the cast on his left wrist. Fortunately it didn't inhibit Thrax's actions too much. Ozzy and Drix came by and took him with them when they left. Thrax wore his gray turtle neck sweater, his black pants and shoes, and his black trench coat that was mildly violet on the inside. They walked into the parking lot and all three of them crammed into Ozzy's car. Thrax was in the back seat.
Presumably they were going to Ozzy's apartment, but Thrax could only imagine where that would be in such a large place. He was continuously asking questions: What's that? Why does that work? Why are those cells doing that job? What is this place called anyways?
They answered his questions accordingly, but were very happy to reach Ozzy's apartment. They all clambered out of his car-actually Thrax kind of slipped out the window in a weird but graceful way. Ozzy's apartment was rather messy, but on some strange impulse Thrax started to clean it. Papers were stacked on the desk, every crumb of food on the carpet went into the trash can, any movies or video games went inside the cupboard next to the TV, etc.
"No offense, but this place is a mess. Why don't you keep the place where you live in better condition?" Thrax asked innocently. Ozzy shrugged. Truth be told the place wasn't clean because he was to lazy to keep it clean. Thrax wouldn't be satisfied with that answer though and he continued to pick things up and arrange them.
Ozzy and Drix-without realizing it-were staring at Thrax as he moved about the room. He was acting so different. For example: The Thrax that still had his memories intact sort of swaggered, not merely walked. And he seemed to kind of swing his shoulders back and forth while he moved. Plus, Ozzy thought he had heard Thrax humming the 'Fever' song once or twice. This new Thrax didn't act like that at all.
Thrax had pretty much cleaned the living room up in half an hour, and he had moved onto the kitchen. The kitchen was filthy. Thrax was rooted to his spot in the middle of the room while he spoke,
"Surely it is simply safer to keep the area where you prepare food for consumption clean?" Thrax asked, sounding incredulous about the state of 'the area where you prepare food for consumption'. It gave Ozzy an idea.
"Why don't we go out to eat tonight? There's a cafe down the road like, two blocks away. Come on, we'll just walk over there." Ozzy said. It appeared that it was settled as Drix turned and left the room, Osmosis Jones following behind. Thrax followed reluctantly and put a few dishes away before he left.
For the record, it was a horrible idea. The walk started out fine until cells started to notice Thrax. They peeked out of windows and doors and stared at the red virus. People that were on the opposite side of the street whispered to each other. They were in a neighborhood like setting, so it seemed like everyone knew everyone else. This made gossiping easier. Thrax hovered inbetween Ozzy and Drix-Drix to his right, Ozzy to his left. It seemed like he wanted to be close to both of them at the same time. The whispers became clearer to Thrax, they made him slow down and eventually stop.
"Isn't that the virus that was causing all that trouble?"
"Why isn't he in prison?"
"He's dangerous, he shouldn't be roaming the streets!"
"I thought he died!"
"What if he tries to start another fever?"
"He shouldn't be here, but how can we get rid of him without being killed?"
"He disgusts me!"
"He should have never existed, we must eradicate all viruses from the body of Frank!"
"Maybe that hero cop-Osmosis Jones-is gonna-hehehe-'take care' of him!"
The words were like blows to Thrax and he felt tears gather in his eyes unexpectedly. He shut his eyes tightly and refused to look at the cells that were being so harsh. Ozzy and Drix noticed that he wasn't between them anymore and turned around to see him standing there. It was then they noticed the gathering crowd around them of upset and curious cells. Thrax suddenly came to life, rushed forward, grabbed Drix and Ozzy by their arms, and took off down the street. He dragged them along until they came to the first alley he saw, then he pulled them into it.
The alley was dingy, and a few trash cans had been tipped over. Thrax leaned against the cold wall of the alley and breathed deeply. So many people were staring at him, watching him, analyzing him, making judgements before they had met him. He could feel their gazes boring into his back uncomfortably.
"You know what the worst part is? I will be punished," Thrax said it like a certainty, like he absolutely knew it for sure. He continued after a pause, "for doing something I can't even remember." Ozzy spoke,
"We won't let that happen to you." he tried to say it with as much conviction as possible, but he still sounded unsure. Thrax shook his head for a moment and stared off into space.
"I think this has happened to me before, in a different place. A different...body." Thrax said quietly. He sighed and slumped against the wall for a moment, looking much shorter then he actually was, and then straightened.
"So now what?" he asked. Ozzy and Drix turned to look at each other.
"We could still go to that cafe..." Ozzy ventured. A quick panicked expression flit across Thrax's face in the shadows.
"Will there be other people there?" he asked uncertainly.
"Or we could just go back to Jones' apartment, I do know a few recipes I could cook." Drix offered. Thrax seemed to like that idea more, but there was a problem.
"Does that mean we must go through that crowd again to reach the apartment?" Thrax asked unhappily.
"It's the quickest way, but we could take a less crowded route if-" Ozzy started, but Thrax interrupted him,
"The less people the better, let's go." the red virus walked cautiously out of the alley. The crowd was a ways off and seemed to have dissipated partly. Ozzy motioned for Drix and Thrax to follow him as he turned right and walked off.
The route they took was uncertain. Things like 'short cuts' set them back half an hour. Thrax felt like a rat trapped in a maze and tried to hide his unease. Finally-after what felt like ages-they reached the apartment building and went in through the back door. Thrax practically hurtled himself into Ozzy's apartment and disappeared from sight.
When Ozzy and Drix came in they found Thrax vigorously cleaning in the kitchen. Drix helped him too, the idea of cooking with this much clutter around him was unsettling. They had the place rather clean in a bit and then Drix ushered him out of the kitchen. Thrax looked like a puppy that had been locked outside in the cold to sleep. Ozzy showed him around the small apartment and Thrax kind of cleaned as they went. Thrax would stay with Ozzy for a few days, then with Drix-who had his own apartment above. For now though he would sleep on the coach.
The tour ended with them both waiting in the living room for Drix to declare that the food was ready. Thrax was about to fall asleep on his feet when said declaration came. The food that had been prepared was indescribable. It had numerous colors and textures, but it tasted good overall. All that really mattered to Thrax was getting the food, honestly he would've eaten anything whether it was disgusting or not.
After supper Thrax barely had time to remove his shoes before falling on the couch, asleep. Ozzy and Drix relaxed a bit when they saw him sleeping. Drix took his leave and went upstairs a ways to his apartment and Ozzy went to his bedroom and slept. Meanwhile, Thrax was having a rather unusual dream:
Thrax's dream
He woke up and stood groggily. He was stretching when he stopped in midmotion, there was a small figure infront of him.
"Uh, hello?" he asked hesitantly. The figure spun around to look at him. It was a she virus, and she appeared to be seven or eight years old physically. She was blue colored overall and looked startlingly like Thrax.
"Hello. It's a joy to see you again Thrax, after so long a time." the words the small girl spoke seemed too mature and intelligent for her age.
"I'm sorry, I can't remember you." Thrax said quietly. The girl beamed at him and took his hand.
"Walk with me for a bit." she commanded. Thrax followed behind her, but found it increasingly strange that she would be the one to lead him, and not the other way around.
"I understand you've lost your memories, I'm here to help you. I was a person from your past, but I am no longer living. I am a memory." she explained. Thrax nodded and gestured for her to continue. He wasn't sure where they were walking to, but he knew they would get somewhere. The background seemed to shift constantly around them. One moment you were standing on a swirly green colored floor, the next moment said floor was blue with red blotches.
A bench suddenly appeared infront of them. She gestured for him to sit and he did so. She remained standing and facing him. Now that they were more at eye level he got a better look at her. Her eyes were the common virus eye color-yellowish green. Her tentacle-like hair was an average blue. It framed her youthful pale blue face nicely. She smiled at him kindly, then reached out and touched his forehead,
"I'll let you a remember a bit at a time, so you can adjust to the information you receive. Now, remember when you were born..." she said levelly, then closed her eyes.
Images and pictures flashed through Thrax's mind, people that he couldn't ever remember meeting surrounded him. She removed her hand after a few seconds and spoke,
"You will remember the events as you would a real memory when you awake. The next time you dream you can talk to me about it if you'd like to. And believe it or not you've been asleep for hours now, so wake up!"
End Thrax's Dream
Thrax's eyes popped open. It was precisely 7:30 am. On the dot. He yawned and sat up, then slipped his shoes on. He could remember being born. He was sure most cells memories weren't this good as to remember their childhood, but he could. He could recall being born in the house that he lived in. The Virus Protection Program had some officials there to help out. He knew his mother's face: kind, playful, and beautiful. It seemed that he inherited his mother's purple hair. His father remained an enigma though, hidden in the shadows. He couldn't recall what he looked like.
He was up and working in the kitchen quickly. He searched and managed to find a loaf of...just what was this bread made up of? Jell-O? He shrugged it off and put one slice in what he thought was-and thankfully is-the toaster. He searched the cupboards until he found something that he thought was jam. He tasted a bit of it and found that it was sugary and it smelled sweet. The 'toast' popped up suddenly and he jumped. He finally found a knife and spread the 'jam' over the 'toast'.
Ozzy stumbled down the hallway sleepily. He could smell something but couldn't identify it. Then he noticed Thrax in the kitchen, staring off into space.
"Good morning!" Ozzy said loudly. Thrax practically leapt out of his chair and hit the ceiling. He breathed a sigh of relief that it was only Jones.
"Someone's jumpy this morning." Ozzy observed while he went about the kitchen, searching for something. Thrax just sighed and continued eating. Ozzy was getting increasingly frustrated,
"You two rearranged everything! I don't know where anything is now!" the white blood cell said, frowning. Thrax seemed to get immediately defensive over the cleaning the kitchen had received,
"Yeah? What are you looking for? I bet I know where it is." Thrax said, sounding confident. It was that tone in his voice that made Ozzy hesitate before speaking,
"Milk and cereal box." he answered. Thrax stood up and went to one of the kitchens. He opened it wide to show three different kinds of cereals. He went to the fridge and opened it up, then reached towards the back of it and pulled out a jug of milk, and to top it off he opened a drawer and pulled out a spoon. Ozzy stared at him,
"How did you know where all this was?" he asked. Thrax shrugged and sat back down to finish off his toast.
"When you're the cleaner you sort of pay attention to where you put things." he said absently. Ozzy sat across from him at the table and started to eat his breakfast.
"Look, Drix and I have to go to work..." Ozzy started.
"Oh yeah..." Thrax had an odd look on his face, one of...disappointment? He continued, "I suppose I could just lay around here all day." he suggested-already hating the suggestion he made. Ozzy could tell that the red virus infront of him definitely didn't want to stay here all day. Letting Thrax come with them though seemed like a very bad idea.
Drix entered suddenly with a friendly greeting. Thrax seemed to tense a bit at the cold pills presence, but neither Ozzy or Drix noticed this. Thrax became increasingly quiet until he just stood up, brushed off crumbs that weren't on his black trench coat, and walked off. His hosts glanced at him before resuming their discussion.
Thrax leaned against a wall in the hallway and tried to shrug off the irritated feeling he got when Drix was near him. He glanced down at his left hand, which was still in a cast. He held it up so that he could see his broken claw clearly. He stared at it and didn't notice Ozzy who was watching him anxiously. Finally Thrax sighed and let his hand drop to his side. He closed his eyes and let out a deep breath.
"Thrax? What would you like to do?" Ozzy asked. Thrax could see his mother's face clearly as she looked at her newborn son with joy. A feeling of warmth spread over Thrax until he was smiling. He turned to face Jones, aware of their difference in height.
"I don't want to be an extra burden. I'll just stay here, on one condition." Thrax said levelly. Ozzy gazed at him curiously,
"What?" Ozzy asked as he looked up towards Thrax.
"You come here for lunch break." Thrax said evenly. Jones almost smiled: was Thrax afraid of being lonely? He didn't ask this though, just nodded.
"Alright, Drix and I are leaving. See you at lunch." Jones briefly waved before departing, his cold pill partner following right afterwards. Thrax walked over to the couch and lay down again. He wasn't going to get in extra sleep just so that he could get his memories back quickly: one step at a time. He thought about his father and tried to remember anything, but got nothing. He quickly became bored.
He walked through the apartment and continued his cleaning. He decided that leaving Jones' room alone was probably a good idea. He cleaned the bathroom quickly, but found a greater challenge in the dreaded closet. There were so many cleaning supplies in there, but almost all of them were unopened. He smirked, a genuine Thrax smirk of satisfaction, and grabbed some of the supplies. He mopped floors, washed mirrors, did the laundry, did another load of dishes, he became so bored that he even cleaned the ceiling!
He had cleaned everything but Jones' room. He felt the strong desire to go in there-wielding a mop, a bucket of warm water, soap, and other useful stuff-and just clean out the whole room. He glanced at the clock on the wall: it was only 10:00 am. Lunch would be at noon. Two more hours. Of. Boredom. He gave in to his urge, grabbed a bunch of cleaning stuff, and marched into Jones' room.
First gathering all the clothes off the floor-and assuming it was all dirty-he piled it infront of the washing machine to remind himself to do another load. He picked up all the papers and files and records and stacked them neatly-he also organized them alphabetically-on the desk that was in the room. He put all the books he could find on a shelf that was covered with knick-knacks. He arranged said knick-knacks on top of the books. He found quite a few pictures of a white blood cell female, they all had the name 'Leah' written on them. He put them on the stand next to the bed. He made the bed-and vowed that he would wash the blankets, pillow case, and sheets too.
He found all kinds of weird junk that he couldn't identify, so he stuffed it in cardboard boxes and stacked them neatly in Jones' closet. When he checked under the bed he was shocked by all the stuff he found. Rotting meals, shoes that no longer fit, tons and tons and tons of old magazines. He promptly sorted through it all and threw out the expired food. He vacuumed the carpet, washed the window that was in Jones' room, washed the desk, stand, and shelves in the room, and used one of those puffy feathery things to clean dust out of hard-to-reach places. He went to Jones' dresser, took out the clothes that was in it and refolded them all. He categorized it too: Shirts in the top drawer, pants in the middle drawer, socks and jackets in the bottom drawer.
The room was clean. And there were only twenty minutes left 'till Drix and Jones came back. He decided to vacuum all the floors again and did another load of laundry. He was sitting in the living room-folding clothes-when Jones, Drix, and the person he recognized from all the pictures in Jones' room: Leah walked in. She stared at him for a while, and Thrax got a strong sense that he knew her from...somewhere. Thrax broke the silence and stood up,
"A pleasure to meet you, miss...?" he searched for her name.
"Leah." she said simply and continued to stare at him. Thrax felt very uncomfortable, so he tried to start a conversation that would take the spot light off himself.
"Jones, I hope you don't mind, but while I was incredibly bored I sorta...uh...cleaned your room." he said hesitantly. Jones' expression was priceless. He rushed down the hall and when he reached his room he screamed in horror. Thrax smiled at this, then sat back down and continued to fold clothes. Leah hadn't reacted to Jones' scream, but she did when he noticed his expression when he came back.
"It's spotless. Clean. Neat. Tidy. How did you do that?" Jones questioned Thrax. The red virus shrugged absently and didn't make eye contact. He'd gotten down to the socks and was having a hard time finding a match for any of them.
"To be honest I had to resist the urge to torch the room and just burn up all the trash I saw. And don't you have even one pair of matching socks?" Thrax asked, sounding frustrated. He stood up suddenly and shoved a large pile of white shirts, black and brown jackets, and black pants into Jones' arms. Thrax briefly considering ironing the clothes the next time he got this bored.
"Put those away. And I don't mean throw them on the floor. I mean put them in your dresser. In this order: Shirts in the top, pants in the middle, socks and jackets in the bottom drawer." The three that had come here for lunch stared at him curiously. Thrax felt the need to defend himself,
"What would you have done? Just lay on the couch for five hours staring at the ceiling?" he questioned. They all glanced up at the ceiling to notice it had been cleaned too. Leah started to laugh and she smiled. Thrax felt some of the tension melt away and felt relieved. She spoke,
"I've only tried to clean this place out once before. I gave up after two hours!" she exclaimed. Thrax crossed his arms infront of himself and allowed a small smile to grace his features. Jones headed obediently to his room and stored his clothes in the dresser according to the pattern.
Meanwhile, Drix and Thrax were making lunch in the kitchen. Thrax had to take a crash course on what all the stuff was since he could only recognize a few of the foods, but Drix was a patient teacher. Thrax made no lunch for himself, and while Leah, Drix, and Jones ate he melted silently into the shadows of the unlit hallway.
The three left-after searching out Thrax and saying goodbye. The silence of the apartment was welcoming to the red virus. He sat back down and randomly put socks together just for the sake of it. He put them back in Jones' room and he finally had absolutely nothing to do. He could feel the boredom start to set in. He finally settled on the couch and turned on the TV. He flipped through the channels quickly, his scanners set to anything having to do with the fever he'd heard about.
The news channel said that the repairs on the city were going well, and that they had elected some guy called Colonic for mayor. He flipped through the channels, not even paying attention to what was on anymore. He finally just turned it off and stared up at the clean ceiling. The awful stench that Drix left-wild cherry flavor- was really starting to bug him. He rolled off the couch, went to the bathroom, and found some kind of air freshening device. He couldn't understand why Jones had so many cleaning supplies but never used them. He plugged the air freshening device into a socket on the wall.
With nothing else to do he went to the kitchen. He stopped as he realized he was about to eat just to stop the boredom. He shook his head and walked out of the kitchen-not looking back. To pass time Thrax decided to count to a billion. He finally returned to Jones' room-numbers still ticking in his head-and started to read all the papers he'd found on the floor. They were mostly reports on past cases that had probably had some relevance once upon a time ago. Now though they were just rather dry reading.
One report that he found though was intriguing. It showed a young virus with dark red colored skin. He looked a lot like Thrax did, and they shared an important trait: the very long claw. Except this virus had his claw on his right hand. He read the paper with interest. This virus's name was Ion and he-apparently-had tried to destroy the body of Frank about four years ago. He'd gone for some gland in the brain that Thrax couldn't even pronounce. Apparently he used the brain gland as a distraction, his true goal had been the eyesight. He'd wanted to blind Frank. He only succeeded minimally, because the report said that at the end of the whole fiasco that Frank just had to wear contacts. It also said that Ion had been killed by an officer on the scene.
He chose a book off of the shelf at random and started reading. Unfortunately for Thrax, the book he chose was the dictionary. He committed himself to reading it though, like he had anything else to do. An hour later he had gotten to the 'I' section. He closed the heavy book with a slam.
"I'm so bored!" he shouted to no one in particular. He shoved the book up onto the shelf and laid back down on the couch. And he was on 73,904,528 in his count to a billion. At least the awful 'wild cherry' smell was gone now. Needless to say the hours passed very slowly for Thrax. When Jones finally got back he was relieved. Someone to take away the boredom. Jones seemed stressed though so he let him be, even though he was dying to talk to someone to end the mind numbing, dull, bland boredom he was experiencing.
Jones seemed oddly silent and tired for the rest of the evening. Thrax didn't bother speaking to him, so his boredom remained. He'd reached a billion a long time ago, and was now going for a trillion. He was laying on the living room floor instead of the couch, and had his arms and legs spread out like he was making a snow angel. He didn't want to annoy, whine, or bother Jones, but he was getting incredibly bored. Finally, he made himself known,
"Bored, bored, bored, BORED!" he said loudly. Jones appeared around the corner and smiled at him.
"Guess where we get to go tomorrow?" Jones asked suddenly. Thrax sat up and stared at him with his bright yellow eyes.
"Where?" he asked curiously.
"To the hypothalamus. Yes, I finally said that right." Jones said happily. Thrax continued to stare at him unblinkingly.
"I know this one...it was in the dictionary. Hypothalamus: otherwise known at the master gland, it's above the brain stem and below the thalamus, it controls temperature, hunger, thirst...and um..that's about all I can remember." Thrax recited what he could remember from the entry in the 'H' section of the dictionary. He watched Jones carefully, "Why are we going there?" he asked.
"You tell me." Jones countered. Thrax concentrated. There had been a fever right? Hypothalamus controls temperature...they were going to the hypothalamus to jog his memory. Thrax realized that he had started the fever by using the hypothalamus. He'd obviously done his homework before he lost his memories.
Jones pulled out a folded piece of paper from his pocket. It had official looking typing on it, and Jones' signature on the bottom. Thrax glanced it over briefly before looking to Jones for an explanation.
"This is a permit to allow us entrance. This is your copy." Thrax stood up and walked over to Jones. He took the paper carefully with his clawed hands and read it fully. Parts of the paper seemed ridiculous.
"No touching anything with the left claw?" he asked aloud-it was one of the conditions on the paper. Jones glanced down to Thrax's broken wrist. The red virus lifted said wrist and examined his broken claw. He concentrated on its essence, the burning heat he felt inside himself. He pushed it towards his claw hesitantly. His broken left claw started to glow a bright orange and Thrax stared at it curiously.
"I guess I understand that." Thrax mumbled as he let the fire leave his claw. The orange glow slowly subsided till it was just a black claw. Thrax shrugged, "I hope I'm allowed to breath in there." he said sarcastically. Jones faintly smiled before speaking,
"There's another thing: they'll be escorting us there. And they'll probably have armed guards watching us at all times." said the immunity officer. Thrax promptly stared at the ground and shifted anxiously from foot to foot. He was sure it was a reasonable precaution, but it still hurt. It hurt to know that he wasn't trusted. He nodded solemnly towards Jones.
"They won't be guarding 'us'. They'll be guarding me." Thrax said pointedly. Jones shrugged but didn't deny it, for it was the truth. The red virus didn't seem so threatening anymore to Jones, he seemed...average, if not fastidious when it came to cleaning.
"I haven't told you something." Thrax spoke uncomfortably. Jones raised a brow and motioned for him to continue, "I can remember when I was born, but it's strange. I can see my mother clearly, but my father is so...shadowy. I can't see him or hear him, it's like he didn't want a son and that I was only a burden to him." Thrax spoke slowly, not sure about his host's reaction.
Jones was worried. Thrax was starting to remember and he was helping by taking him to the hypothalamus, but was it a good thing that he was regaining his memories? He must have been translucent to Thrax, for the red virus tried to smile reassuringly. The expression on Thrax's face was too close to the usual smirk that Jones could remember, and it only increased his worries.
"Don't stress over it. I shouldn't have told you, I'm just a burden to you guys too." Thrax muttered, turning around and walking away. He folded up his permit to enter the hypothalamus and slipped it into one of the deep pockets of his black trench coat. He walked into the kitchen just so that Jones wouldn't be able to see the troubled expression on his face. Thrax spent a few minutes counting the tiles on the floor and tried to think of anything else but his past. He wasn't sure if he even wanted to sleep now, if that girl would return and with her bring his memories. Thrax hardened himself. He needed to regain his memories and put his life back on track.
Thrax didn't want to talk to Jones so he spent his time the rest of the evening avoiding the white blood cell. He turned in early on the couch and fell asleep, if only to pass time. And the girl did return to his return his dreams:
Thrax's Dream
The youthful girl was dressed in a bright colored dress that swayed in a breeze that didn't exist. The colors around them were bright and continued to change. Thrax noticed that in his dreams he was as aware as when he was awake, but decided that it didn't really matter.
"So, what do you make of your parents?" she asked cheerfully. Thrax nodded,
"I couldn't really remember my father..." he started. She interrupted him quickly,
"His absence at your birth is explainable. I hope you didn't get the wrong impression of him. You'll learn of him in this next installment of memories." She said levelly, "For now, why don't you tell me what you thought of your mother?" Thrax smiled,
"She's beautiful." The girl grinned and laughed,
"What else?" she asked curiously. Thrax paused as he tried to choose the right words to express his feelings,
"She seemed so happy, and kind. And...well, so pure." he glanced down at the young girl questioningly. She seemed to be a bit more serious this time,
"She was pure hearted, and good-natured. It took someone special like her to actually know and love your father. She was quite the character." the girl explained.
"So, who are you?" Thrax asked casually. The young girl paused and smiled at him,
"One step at a time. You'll learn about me much later on." she said. She suddenly stared at him with a very serious expression on her face and spoke, "Know this, Thrax, your mother loved you too much. It would eventually lead to her downfall. And mine aswell. This is why you must be careful now, don't get too close to anyone beyond this world of dreams."
Thrax looked at her and cocked his head, confused. She sighed and her expression softened.
"Kneel." she commanded. Thrax did as told and she rested her hand upon his forehead again. "Remember your early childhood, those days seem distant now, but they affected you greatly." she said quietly. After a few minutes she lifted her hand and stepped back from him. Thrax slowly stood as he tried to make sense of the thoughts and pictures that flashed through his mind.
She looked up at him with genuine concern, "Are you feeling well?" she asked. Thrax shook his head back and forth,
"I feel kind of...weird." he mumbled, not knowing how to describe the clouded feeling in his mind. She smiled up at him and took his large hand in her comparatively smaller one.
"You'll be fine. You always come through. Now, I understand you're going to the hypothalamus today." she said levelly. Thrax nodded,
"Yeah. I guess that's where I started the fever..." he started to speak, but noticed her narrowing her eyes with worry.
"Is something wrong?" he asked questioningly. She nodded,
"Be careful, alright? Cells can act not as they normally would when frightened or threatened." she said calmly.
"Have a good time, and if you feel overwhelmed by new memories, just take a nap. I'll be here to help you." she said reassuringly. Suddenly, she seemed to perk up, "Oops, your host is trying to wake you up. I should've been paying closer attention. I'll see you again, but for now return to the world of the awake."
End Thrax's Dream
Thrax jolted awake suddenly and sat straight up. Jones jumped back, surprised. Thrax blinked repeatedly as he felt the memories he'd received while asleep begin to make sense. It was awful. He could remember cells taunting him, even viruses seemed to despise him. If their family hadn't been under the Virus Protection Program he wasn't sure what would've happened. But he now knew his father, it was that virus he'd read about earlier-Ion. Thrax looked down to his left claw. His father had taught him how to fight with it at a very young age. His mother had instructed him in hand-to-hand combat. What a childhood.
"You sleep like a log." Jones observed with a curious expression on his face. Thrax turned to face the white blood cell for a moment, then bent down and slipped his shoes on.
"Hypothalamus?" Thrax asked, sounding hopeful. Jones nodded,
"I've already ate, but I can wait for you to get some breakfast-" Jones started to say. Thrax interrupted him,
"Not necessary. Let's go." Thrax walked to the door of the apartment and waited for Jones to follow. The immunity officer did reluctantly and walked outside. Thrax closed the door quietly behind him, then followed Jones down the hallway. Drix was-apparently-still working and Jones had taken a vacation day. So Thrax got to ride in the front. He stared out the window as he passed by tall buildings that only got larger and more impressive as they got closer to the brain.
When they reached the brain stem they had to show their permits, then they got to go through. There were a bunch of more gates that they had to repeat the process for and Thrax felt his impatience rising. When they actually got inside the building three guards immediately started to follow them. They had a scientist escort them to the hypothalamus. Ten minutes later they were actually in the room.
The room was lit with a bluish light that came from the giant DNA strand infront of them. Counters surrounded the strand-which was in a cylindrical containment tube. Without thinking about it Thrax walked straight up to the strand and stared at it. Jones kept a few feet back though. Thrax almost reached out and touched the glass containment tube, but then he felt the eyes of the guards boring into his back. He took a giant step away from the strand and tried to appear non-threatening.
Still, he felt a smile-or was it a smirk?-spread across his features.
"It's beautiful." he said as he stared at the rotating DNA strand. Jones glanced at him worriedly. A memory hit Thrax suddenly,
"Baby, you are lookin' fine today."
Thrax heard it, but it was in his own voice. He reached up and touched his lips just to make sure he hadn't said that aloud.
He could see a faded image of himself, wearing sun glasses and with a chain wrapped around his right wrist, approaching the strand. His past self stuck his long claw into the class. Fire built up in the tube before the glass shattered in an explosion. He reached in and took a bead from the strand, and added it to the chain on his wrist. The DNA strand was glowing reddish orange now, and a clock that read 98.6 suddenly started to go up in numbers.
Thrax shook his head of this vision. Jones noticed and was about to say something, but Thrax beat him to it,
"I used to have a chain...right?" the red virus asked hesitantly.
"Yeah..." Jones responded nervously.
"Well what happened to it?" Thrax asked. Jones honestly didn't know, he'd given it to Leah so she could restore Frank, but after that he didn't know where it went.
"I don't know, but I'll see if I can find it." Jones finally said. Thrax seemed content with this answer and stood still, transfixed on the DNA strand.
"This place is very familiar to me, and I don't mean just because I've been here before in Frank. I've been to this room, in very many bodies." Thrax said slowly. Jones looked a little disturbed by that comment and Thrax mentally thrashed himself for saying something like that aloud. He lifted his left hand and stared at his broken claw. He could feel the heat rushing forward until his claw glowed a brilliant orange. Jones looked very concerned to say the least
The guards had noticed and were all aiming their weapons at him. Thrax willed the heat to leave and the orange glow faded away. The guards did not relax. Thrax felt uneasy at being in this place, and he wanted to go. He glanced at the blue clock and mildly frowned,
"This place is cold." he mumbled, "Let's leave. They don't want me here, and I don't want to be here." Thrax said quietly to Jones. With a last glance at the beautiful blue strand that rotated in the center of the room Thrax turned around and walked calmly out of the hypothalamus. Jones followed, wondering what he'd gotten himself into.
"What should we do now?" Jones asked as they walked away. Thrax paused at a door marked 'Subconscious' and shuddered. He could almost feel some terrifying and ominous force inside the room. He heard the voice ring through his head again,
"Whew...this cat was sick before I even got here."
He walked quickly away and avoided speaking with Jones about it.
"I really don't know." Thrax finally said as he slipped gracefully into Jones' car. Jones thought it was amusing to compare that with how Drix had to stretch the car to get in and left the roof lop sided. Thrax looked thoughtful and Jones glanced at him occasionally.
"As long as there aren't lots of people where ever were going." Thrax concluded quietly.
"Do you have some kind of fear of crowds or something?" Jones asked. Thrax shook his head,
"Crowds have a fear of me." he corrected. Jones smiled weakly, but the effort was wasted on the red virus. Thrax wanted to speak to the young girl again and try to sort through the memories he'd gained while visiting the hypothalamus. Right now wasn't a good time, and there was no way he was going to ask Jones to take him back to the apartment just so that he could sleep.
"Does this place have a public library?" Thrax suddenly asked. Jones nodded and suddenly made a sharp turn.
"What are you looking for?" Jones asked curiously. Thrax shrugged,
"Some names and details on viruses." The red virus said leisurely. The immunity cop suddenly pulled into a parking lot and the car stopped with a final rattle. A large gray building was infront of them. It had the large words, 'Public Library of Frank' written on it. Thrax exited the car and walked slowly up to it, Jones was by his side. The silence inside the building was wonderful. Even if a cell did see Thrax they wouldn't say anything, because no one wanted to break the silence. The red virus really didn't know where to start, so he just chose a random shelf and looked at it. It was Juvenile Fiction, not what he wanted. He continued onward.
Jones could see that they could spend hours in the library and Thrax wouldn't notice. There was absolutely no way though that he was going to leave Thrax alone, so he followed him throughout the library. It was over forty minutes later when Thrax briefly paused to flip through an encyclopedia. He read the entry on 'Frank' just to learn more about the body he was in. It still wasn't enough information though. He went to the nonfiction section, maybe they would have facts here.
Jones tapped Thrax on the shoulder, and the red virus practically jumped. Jones motioned for Thrax to follow him, and he approached a computer. He shook the mouse to awake it, and the screen said that the session had timed out. Jones clicked the start new session option, and they were finally at the search menu. Jones typed in 'bird flu', changed the perimeters from author to title, and hit enter. Thrax watched over Jones' shoulder for the results. The very first title seemed like a good enough place to start as any, 'The Facts of Bird Flu'. Jones wrote down the author and number-the call number-that would appear on the book's spine; he handed it over to Thrax.
The red virus headed over to another shelf in the nonfiction section and started searching. About five minutes later he sat down in the hallway between shelves with the book in his lap. He wasn't sure what made this book so interesting, he was sure it was very dry reading to another cell. At the table of contents Thrax found a chapter called 'Hong Kong Chicken Flu'. He made sure to read that one first. Jones had found a chair to sit on that kept Thrax in sight, but at least he was comfortable. Thrax flipped through the pages delicately with his claws and read it thoroughly. An hour passed, and the red virus finally stood. He put the book back in it's place on the shelf and briefly stretched.
He went over to the computer and found that the session had already expired. He started another and typed in 'Ion the Virus'. Thrax remembered to switch the perimeters to title, and hit search. He got a lot of results that he didn't think looked promising, until he saw a title called 'The History of Viruses and Frank'. He scribbled down the call number and searched for the book. This is what he wanted. He found a very thick book with the title emblazoned upon it in gold letters. Unfortunately the book had been published two years ago, so it held no information on Thrax himself.
The book was organized by the viruses name alphabetically, so he flipped to the 'I' section. Thrax finally found the article on 'Ion the Virus'. It was only five pages long, but by the time Thrax finished it he was amazed. His father was very clever. He'd spread mass panic in the entire body by sending in a team of germs that stirred up trouble in the brain. They'd attacked random targets just to be a distraction. Meanwhile Ion had gone to the eyes and set some unique type of explosive,-Thrax made a mental note to look that up too-but Ion had been stopped. His plan had been thwarted and killed by Vac Jones. Thrax blinked as he made the connection...Jones.
He approached Jones who looked very bored sitting on his chair. Thrax laid the book infront of him and tapped the name Vac Jones with one of his claws. Jones' eyes widened and he took the book from Thrax. Jones took out his wallet and removed an expired library card. He walked to the reference desk and paid to have it renewed, a confused Thrax following. Jones checked out the book and headed for the exit, Thrax trailing behind him. The silence followed them even as they exited the library and entered Jones' car. They drove to the apartment in silence, speaking was forbidden. They walked quickly into the apartment and Thrax closed the door behind him. He leaned on it and let loose a breath he wasn't aware he'd been holding.
"Was he your father?" Thrax finally got to ask. Jones handed Thrax the book over and nodded,
"Yes." he said simply. Thrax felt a surge of anger go through him and his broken left claw suddenly glowed bright orange. The red virus was seething, but he willed his claw to stop glowing. Really, it had the worse timing to suddenly start glowing like that. Thrax wished it would stop responding to his thoughts like that. Thrax flipped a page over in the book to the only picture of his father in the article.
"That was my father." Thrax said with a gesture to the picture, "There's been a rivalry between our families for a while now. This is the one body that we always have trouble with." Thrax muttered and shook his head in disappointment. Jones looked anxiously at Thrax and tried to find the right words to say. Thrax took the book and sat down on the couch. He flipped to the first page and started to read the whole book. Jones decided it was time to find out more about his own father so he walked off into his room. He dragged out his father's journal, sat down at his desk, and started reading.
Both of them remained buried in their books until Drix walked in. The red and yellow pill was surprised by the silence in the house. He noticed Thrax was completely immersed in a book so he didn't bother him. Drix walked over to Jones' room and noticed that his partner was buried in a book too. He wasn't so afraid to interrupt his friend though, so he spoke up,
"Hey Jones, what are you reading?" he asked quietly. Jones leapt up out of his chair and turned around.
"Don't scare me like that!" he finally responded to Drix, "And I was reading my father's journal." Drix raised a brow in question so Jones started to explain,
"Well, it seems that Thrax's dad was in Frank four years ago. And my dad was on the case..." Jones trailed off as he thought about his next words carefully. Thrax had been standing in the shadows of the hallway, but now he emerged.
"Vac Jones killed my father." he said quietly. Drix and Jones looked up at him surprisedly. Thrax had his vision glued onto the floor, but he walked up to Jones' desk and selected a report. It was the one on Ion.
"Ion the Virus was killed by an officer of immunity at the right eye." he continued to read aloud from the report, "His body was disposed of by cremation. How ironic." Thrax threw the report carelessly on top of all the others-breaking the alphabetical order. He sighed and brushed his purple dreadlocks from his face. Thrax didn't know what to do next. He waited for Jones or Drix to say something, but they kept silent too.
"I'm gonna take a nap." Thrax finally said and he walked from the room into the shadows of the unlit hallway. He lay down on the couch and closed his bright yellow eyes. He really needed some help with this, so he slept:
Thrax's Dream
The young girl looked up at him as he appeared in the dream-world. She looked at his expression,
"Something went wrong." she deducted. Thrax nodded and sat down cross legged in front of her. She sat down next to him too and glanced over at him.
"Want to talk about it?" she asked softly.
"Yeah. Ion, my father, was killed by Jones' father. Vac Jones. I don't know what to think or how to act or how to feel around them. And when I went to the hypothalamus I could hear this voice, and I saw myself breaking the DNA chain and starting a fever." Thrax said this very quickly, and felt relieved to have finally said it aloud to someone.
The young girl sighed, "Thrax, trust me. Your father was a jack-of-all-trades, but he had recently found great pleasure in blinding bodies. It was really the anguish that his victims felt that attracted him to this profession. To lose your sight is an awful fate. Everyone loses one...eventually." she said gently. Thrax shook his head,
"But why this body? Why did it have to be Jones' family? Why did I have to come here and start the cycle again?" he asked, sounding frustrated. The background suddenly changed completely. They were now sitting on grass, and there was a blue sky above them with fluffy white clouds dotted over it. A bright yellow sun cast it's warm rays upon them, and Thrax's black clothes soaked up the warmth.
"Because that is the way fate wanted it to be." she answered.
"So...I shouldn't think about...about..." Thrax started, but he looked down at the ground and wouldn't say anything after that.
"About avenging your father?" the young girl guessed. Thrax nodded, she was right of course.
"No, you should not." she replied. Thrax looked at her,
"How do you know so much? You're so young, but it's like you've been alive longer then me." Thrax spoke confusedly. She smiled up at him,
"I told you when we met. I'm a memory." she said mysteriously like that answered all his questions. Thrax laid back like he was going to make a snow angel and stared up at the clouds.
"Life is too complicated." he mumbled. She chuckled from her spot next to him,
"Don't worry so much. Just know that everything has a bright side. Sometimes it can be hard to find, but there's always a positive aspect to every situation. Would you like some more memories?" she asked suddenly. Thrax looked over to her,
"I don't know. You still haven't explained the ones I gained at the hypothalamus." he commented. She shrugged,
"Alright then. You were seeing something that had happened in the room previously. You know that the hypothalamus controls temperature. So you started a fever there by stealing a specific DNA bead from the strand." she explained. Thrax shook his head,
"There's something more...but I can't quite remember. I think I hurt someone, but I don't know who." he muttered. She rested a hand on his shoulder comfortingly,
"Things will make sense as time progresses. Now, would you like some more memories or not?" she asked again. She didn't know how much time she had left with him, and she needed to make it count. She wanted to be patient and encouraging, but it was always hard to talk to him like this. She hid her thoughts easily with a smile and watched Thrax carefully.
"Yeah, I'll take the memories." Thrax said hesitantly. She reached out her hand and touched the side of his head. They remained frozen in this position for a longer time then usual, and when she finally removed her hand Thrax suddenly gasped. Horrible, terrible, awful images floated through his mind. He sat up suddenly and his purple dreadlocks fell across his face like a curtain. One image in particular hovered in his mind, it was a black chain with only a few blue DNA beads in it. Different feelings surged through him: hatred and sorrow, joy and hopelessness, but most of all anger. The young girl reached across and hugged him. Thrax could feel his grasp on this dream-world weakening as he began to wake up. The last words he heard from the young girl were,
"You'll pull through this, you always do."
End Thrax's Dream
Thrax jolted awake. He fell off the couch. It was around midnight and Jones was sitting in the kitchen-lights dimmed so as to not disturb Thrax-doing paperwork. Jones stood up and walked out to the living room to see Thrax lying on the floor shivering. He immediately bent down and helped Thrax to sit up, leaning him against the couch.
"Are you alright? Nightmares?" Jones asked as he tried to calm the red virus. Thrax seemed to curl into himself and his voice was distressed when he spoke,
"The equivalent." he managed to say. Jones suddenly got a look of comprehension on his face,
"Memories...?" he guessed. Thrax nodded weakly, then silently started to cry. Jones could only stare, this was not what he expected when he decided to let Thrax stay at his apartment. Jones rested a hand on the red viruses shoulder to try to comfort him. Thrax seemed to shrivel away from the touch and tried to brush away any help. He was Thrax, he was self sufficient. Thrax tried to regain his composure and started to explain,
"They come whenever I'm asleep. They're horrible...the terrible things that happen always outweighed whatever good happened. So many friends hurt. So much prejudice..." Thrax suddenly seemed to anger, "Those stupid cells! Why couldn't they just leave us alone!?" he said loudly. The red virus then became grave, "I should've never happened. Even viruses hated me...feared me. Feared what I was capable of doing." he lifted his left claw and stared hard at the broken edges, "But I was ignorant...not knowing why I had been granted this kind of existence."
"What do you mean, 'I should've never happened'?" Jones asked, worry very clear on his face. Thrax looked grim and he shifted his yellow gaze to stare off into space,
"My mother and father were both powerful viruses. For them to marry and have offspring was forbidden...because I am the result. It's happened only a few times before in history, it always ended in the murder of the child. My father made it clear that wasn't going to happen, but some cells, germs, and even viruses did try."
"And your mother?" Jones asked. Thrax's mood only seemed to darken and he shook his head, not willing to talk about that very sensitive subject. The red virus clammed up then, and he was silent for a long time. Jones sat with him and tried to think of something to say,
"Was there anything good about growing up...or how much can you remember?" he asked. Thrax shrugged absently,
"I can remember up to when I was a young man so far, still learning the ropes about taking down bodies. And there was nothing good about growing up, except when it was finally over. Even while under the Virus Protection Program's protection it wasn't safe out there." Thrax explained.
"What kind of body were you in?" Jones asked, surprised that the VPP couldn't do a lot to help.
"The body of Peter." Thrax answered. Once again their conversation ground to an awkward halt. Thrax finally spoke up again after a while,
"It feels like I'm slowly slipping away every time I wake up. A little more of who I am now leaves...and I become Thrax the Virus. It's no wonder I made a career out of taking down bodies. It's the only life I've ever known." Thrax mumbled, "And once I've left and completely become Thrax...no one will be safe." he said this resolutely.
Jones felt a surge of panic go through him. 'No one will be safe' was very ominous sounding. Then again, it's not like they could ask Thrax to never sleep again so he wouldn't remember. He didn't know what to say to help, or how to act to comfort Thrax, he didn't know what to do.
"Jones, remember the chain. When did you last see it?" Thrax suddenly asked. Jones blinked, surprised. Thrax had just called him 'Jones', it was what the Thrax of the past had always called him. He tried to shake the worry from his mind and spoke,
"I gave it to Leah so she could restore Frank. She must've taken it to the hypothalamus, after that, I don't know where it went. I'll ask her in the morning." Jones replied. Thrax nodded, but didn't look happy at the delay.
"Do you expect me to go in their, wake her up, and ask her for it?" Jones asked, trying to lighten the tension. A ghostly smile formed on Thrax's face, ghostly that it seemed to be there one moment like a wisp of smoke, then gone the next.
"I probably would've." the red virus responded.