Author's note:
Still inspired by this awesome artwork: http :/karaii .deviantart .com/art/AC-Concept-doujin-p-1-6-181343282 (you know you want to look at it)
Here's number two. I still don't like it but I don't have to. You have to…or not…
And I'm still not getting paid for writing this…
It's been two days now since that…dream…vision…whatever…
I'm sitting on my bed, eating something indefinable from a plastic cup.
It tastes gross but hey, it's something to keep me from starving. And it's not like I'm the only one who has to eat that crap…
I still receive a few glances from Lucy and Rebecca. Worried glances.
Not a single one from Shaun.
Well, of course not from Shaun, never from him.
He doesn't care about me.
Doesn't care about anything at all. Except guiding the other teams, sticking his British nose into some antique history book and the amount of Earl Grey teabags left in the kitchen cupboard.
It's sad…
When I first met him I thought we could actually be friends or at least good acquaintances.
But no.
Not with Shaun.
Never with Shaun…
Four hours later I'm lying flat on my back.
It hurts like hell and the bystanders who are looking curiously at me aren't helping much at all.
I can hear their whispers. Don't understand them though. Some exotic gibberish…oddly enough it feels familiar after all.
Pictures of sand, palm trees and camels flood my mind. Wouldn't I be in pain right now I'd call them beautiful daydreams.
Better than the ones at night…
Leaving me empty and depressed, like I've lost something very important and can never get it back.
I want to yell at those figures to get the fuck out of the warehouse!
It's embarrassing enough to lie here and know I won't be able to get up for the next few minutes.
Worse when somebody's watching…
Even if they're just…shadows…
Fragments of what used to be in the past.
They seem to fade away when I try to concentrate on their forms.
Strange, faceless ghosts flickering between fantasy and reality…
But whose reality?
Mine…or…
I hear footsteps. Probably heading in my direction.
I groan and rub my eyes with my right hand.
Great, another curious person who wants to bathe in my misery. Just great…
They stop near my feet.
I have to shift a bit to look at whoever's disturbing me in my moment of weakness and self-pity, the snarl for the new waves of pain in my back ready on my tongue.
It doesn't leave my mouth. Instead I feel myself smiling.
"You always seem to find me, brother. Even when you do not know where I am…" I tell him, chuckling.
I expect him to say something snappy with a wide, self-satisfied grin on his face.
He just stares at me though, frozen like a statue clad in blue robes…
"It's because of my little accident, isn't it?" I continue.
He frowns. Seems to be right then.
"Do not look so concerned. I just fell off a couple of crates. Nothing serious…"
With a little effort and a few low, painful grunts I'm standing.
My back still hurts but I'm not showing it.
With Malik I never know if he's going to tease me for showing weakness or if he's gentle enough to just let it be.
He doesn't say anything. Guess he chose the latter, lucky me…
"Are you finished now?" a stern voice asks me.
It comes from his mouth but it's not Malik's voice.
"Are you alright? You don't sound like yourself at all, brother."
I try to smile…I fail miserably.
Perhaps his arm is causing him pain again…
Maybe he's feverish and needs immediate help…
All because of my stupidity!
"Is it because of…"
"Stop it!" he yells at me and crosses his arms in front of his chest.
Wait, his arms…both of them?
That's not possible!
He lost it!
Because of me he lost it!
How in the world…
"Why are you staring at me like that, Miles?" he asks angrily.
Miles?
Miles…yeah…right…
Right…
I blink a few times. The image of Malik fades and instead of it there is Shaun.
Don't want to believe it.
I have to rub my face to keep the headache from causing a short circuit in my brain.
This is confusing as hell!
Not normal!
Tiresome!
Horrible!
Intimidating!
Too much!
Cold sweat's running down my body. I'm on my knees, pressing my hands so hard against my eyes they're starting to hurt. Everything around me is a spinning storm of colors, like I'm drunk. Either I'm going to faint or I will throw up.
I feel my plastic cup meal starting to creep up my throat and…
"Desmond!"
Everything goes white.
In the middle of it there's Shaun's face looking at me, eyes wide, his glasses tilted on his nose.
It's almost comical how bewildered this stoic man looks. And somehow it's calming me. My headache fades and my breath slows down to a normal level.
He looks at me expectantly.
I breathe deeply a few times more.
Then I nod and with a little help from him I'm standing again.
"Thanks…" I manage to say to Shaun's retreating back.
He just continues to walk back up the stairs.
Not sparing any encouraging words.
Pretending this whole incident never happened.
Because acknowledging it will lead to telling Lucy about it, this to painful-to-answer-questions from her and finally to more unnerving side-glances from both her and Rebecca.
Not only for me but for Shaun, too.
I feel a smile starting to crawl on my lips.
For once I am happy that Shaun is the way he is.
For once I am delighted he doesn't look at me.
For once I am grateful for being ignored…