Chapter 17:
School basically prevented me from posting this, since I've barely written anything this month.
Myrnin's POV:
She's gone back to the Glass House.
She's left me.
It takes all my effort not to go and destroy absolutely everything in my laboratory; whilst it would be a great stress reliever, it would probably be a prelude to an insane stage. That's not something I can afford right now, particularly with Amelie most likely wanting to see us soon, and there needs to be something for Sam, so that I can appear to be in control of the situation. Our dear Founder will be irritated enough with me for not informing her of what Sam and I arranged, especially because I forgot about the deal, so there's no need to then be unapproachable for an immeasurable period of time.
The anger and the melancholy…they threaten to overcome me, even with my attempts to control myself, because she left me! I didn't think that she would leave, that even if she didn't want to stay for me, she'd stay because Amelie wants results and answers about Sam. Whilst Claire has nothing to do with what happened to Sam, I had hoped that she would stay and try and help me with this final furlong, if only because of the journey we've been on together, if not for doing so because of our closeness. I wouldn't want to say anything beyond 'closeness' because whilst the lines are no longer clear, and are currently being redrawn, I would never have expected her to fall in love with me before…before the ball. It was what I desired, yet I thought her relationship was too strong to even consider being broken; I was wrong, naturally, but…but now things no longer make sense.
The ringing of my phone distracts me from pouring an acid into another, and it jolts me enough to realise that this mixture would have caused an explosion. I shouldn't be working, not in my current state, but I need to find something for Sam, if I want Amelie to understand what I did and why I did it…or, at least to stop her punishing me for not being prepared for his return.
"Amelie," I say in a collected voice, trying my best to sound 'sane'. I think I succeed, but when her reply comes in an uncertain tone, I begin to worry.
"Are you alright, Myrnin?" she asks me, sounding slightly concerned before she gets down to business. "Is Claire there? I require the pair of you to attend me most immediately; it is not a social call, and is urgent."
I sigh. "No. She isn't. She chose to go home—" I begin to explain, before Amelie cuts me off.
"What?" Amelie snaps, and I get the feeling that the discovery of my allowing Claire to leave (not that she gave me much choice, when you put her departure in perspective) is not something that has improved Amelie's mood whatsoever. "You must bring her back! I want to speak to both of you, given that it was Claire who…found Sam, not you. Though you, dear Myrnin, have much to explain; Sam is resting and is not able to tell me anything." something about her tone scares me. I begin to get the impression that however hard I thought it would be before, it will be ten times – or more – harder when I actually do visit the Founder.
"I...how do you propose I do that?" I reply tiredly; I have no desire to fight with Amelie, but her requesting for me to do something that won't be possible is cause for me to reply to her request. "Something tells me that she won't talk to me, after…never mind. Only your intervention will get her to return here, so we can visit you – I am serious, Amelie."
She hesitates a moment before replying, "Tell her that if she doesn't, her friends pay the ultimate price."
Gulping involuntarily, I nod, then realise Amelie can't tell I'm acquiescing to her request. "Yes…I will. But perhaps you're being slightly harsh…" I trail off before she can interrupt me – something I can tell she would do, from the snarl that emits from the other end of the line.
"If you are trying to tell me what to do in my town, perhaps you feel you would be better suited as ruler, rather than myself," is her response. "You have enough to explain – saying Samuel ought to be enough to have you wanting to run and scream – so why are you sitting there, moaning about Claire and your relationship with her, rather than going to fetch the girl and bringing yourselves to me?" with that, Amelie hangs up the phone – not that I should have expected anything other than that – and I'm left with a dial tone in my ear.
The phone is flung across the room and I hear the shattering of the fragile electronic system inside it, but that's not my focus right now; my focus is on how I get Claire back here in order to get her to Amelie's home. Finding something to abate Sam's problem with retaining blood is no longer the priority, not now that Amelie has summoned us.
How best do I get to Claire in her home? Do I walk through a portal into the living room, and risk seeing the rest of her housemates – people I'm sure dislike me, especially the Collins boy – or do I be presumptive and go directly to her bedroom, just to run the risk of her screaming? There is more chance that she's in her room; I just must hope that she is alone.
Without thinking about it any longer, I move towards the door in the corner of my laboratory and wrench it open, imagining the inside of Claire's bedroom; I know only of the shape of the room, not anything further, and it's an effort to manipulate the wormhole from the Glass House's living room to make it materialise in her bedroom – not impossible, naturally, but certainly more challenging than having to simply step through.
Claire's bedroom is messier than I would have presumed, and I'm pleased to see that it's only her in the room, though the tears I hear falling from her cheeks don't fill me with confidence. I recall being told never to interrupt a crying girl – particularly one who told me that she didn't want to see me – and given that I'm barging in on her privacy, this may end badly.
"Claire?" I say quietly, noting as she jumps and turns to face me with shock. "I hate to be here, given what you said to me before you left, but Amelie demands that you attend a meeting with her now," I explain my reasoning for being present, staying within the doorframe; I don't want to go near her, not if she doesn't want me to. There are boundaries even I have, after all.
"No," is her answer, quiet yet defiant, and I notice her eyes flick towards the door to check that it's locked.
"You have to," I try and explain, knowing that I could just drag her along with me – but I wouldn't want to do that to Claire. Whilst manipulating situations may be something I excel at, I…I won't do that to Claire, not after earlier.
"I don't," she retorts angrily, her eyes flashing with anger as she looks at me. With my appearance, her tears have disappeared, leaving her eyes glistening and her cheeks betraying the tracks of the previously shed moisture droplets. "I don't have to do anything, especially because you're the one who did this to Sam, not me. Amelie doesn't want me; you want to try and manipulate me and get me to talk to you, even though I don't want to!"
She begins to cry again, as her voice rises, and I can't help myself; I shoot across the room and grasp her wrists in one hand, covering her mouth with my other. "I wouldn't lie to you – not about this, at least," I begin, adding the latter bit on the end as I realise that it would be a lie to say that. "Amelie has threatened your…friends, if you do not come with me to her home, and she is not herself. She will not care about your relationship with her – did she when she sent you out with me? No, I think not. So you will come with me now, if you want to save your friends."
I give her no choice in coming; as soon as I sense she isn't going to come, I pull her up, none too gently, and begin to drag her towards the portal. By the time we get halfway there, I think she realises that she has to attend, so I release her mouth and one of her wrists, keeping the other just to ensure that she does come with me.
"I hate you!" she snaps at me, and the tone reminds me of how Amelie spoke to me merely five minutes ago. "Why are you making me come with you?"
"I just told you: if you want your friends to survive, you come to Amelie," I repeat, keeping my distance from her as much as possible. Even with how she's being with me now, I would quite happily kiss her at this stage, even thought that is not particularly fitting for the current situation.
She doesn't reply as I close the portal door and reopen it to show Amelie's office to us both, the room cast in darkness and completely empty. I don't speak, either, as we walk through, though I realise that she is gripping my wrist as I grip hers, as we emerge into the darkness; she can't see anything, I realise, and so flick the switch on the wall to turn on the electric lighting.
"Where do we go?" she whispers, and I get the feeling that underneath her anger, she's scared. Most of her emotions are most likely centred on me and what…we did, and so being jolted out of her crying (about what, I wouldn't want to comment) is not particularly helpful to her.
"This way," I respond, letting go of her now, if only for my own sanity; if she continues to be close to me, her scent…it would overwhelm me, make me believe that I had a chance to be with her.
"What way?" she replies as we step out of the office and into the hallway, not noticing that I'm moving down towards the left. "Oh, well, thanks for telling me!" is her response, and if I had any doubt for those few moments in the office that she continued to hate me, it's cleared away with her words.
I don't speak to her as we walk down the hallway, my ears focused on listening for sounds of Amelie and adjusting our path through the winding corridors accordingly. It's difficult to remain focused on what we're here to discuss, and every time I begin to think about how to explain to Amelie what has happened six months ago, my mind is drawn back to Claire…and wondering whether or not she does hate me or not.
And then we're here.
The door opens before I even reach it, and we walk through together, Claire's anger dissapitating as the fear must take over; I'm a good enough companion when facing Amelie, it seems, particularly after what occurred the last time they met.
"Myrnin," Amelie says my name, sitting on a chaise lounge in the centre of the room – one of her drawing rooms, I instantly realise, recognising it from my first years in Morganville – and the look on her face is mixed: part of her expression is angry, the rest of it is strangely happy, an emotion I haven't seen from her in so long. "You certainly took your time arriving here."
I bow before her, the slight jovial movement an attempt to relax myself before the inquisition begins, and smile ever so slightly. "If you appreciate that Claire had gone home and that I had to rouse her, before navigating your home at a human speed, you will understand that it takes longer than it would take you, my dear," I reply, slightly hesitant.
She doesn't look at me after I finish speaking; her attention turns to Claire. "And what do you have to say for yourself, Claire?"
The girl beside me shrugs, and I wince internally; I thought she would be clever enough to realise that Amelie is irritated with her, and that her usual limits for rudeness are out of bounds. "You wanted me here, Myrnin brought me here, and so I'm here. That's all I have to say for myself."
The anger flashes over Amelie's face as the main emotion, her eyes colouring silver, before she recomposes herself – perhaps quick enough for Claire not to have noticed. The look I cast in Claire's direction, however, tells me that she saw the anger, and it's only served to make her adequately scared.
"I have no desire for preamble; I want to know how you brought Sam back to life, in such a manner, and…and why you didn't tell me!" Amelie's composure slips as she demands to know this information, and the slight rising out of her chair merely furthers this.
Without her saying to, I take a seat opposite Amelie, and Claire does the same; Amelie's eyes flash again, but I ignore them. If I am going to be punished, I will certainly be comfortable whilst she sentences me.
And so I explain.
I explain everything that occurred when Sam came to my laboratory shortly before the final stand against Bishop, then how I happened to forget what had happened. I go into detail about everything we did when we tried to find Sam, including how Claire went off on her own to find Sam – I pass on every detail of the past days, bar the kisses, and as I do so, Amelie's face stays steadily neutral.
"Do you have anything to add?" she asks Claire as I fall silent, looking at the floor.
"Only that…that you shouldn't be mad at Myrnin for this, because he did it for you, and…that's it," she says hesitantly, and I dare to look at her in shock. She…she defended me!
Looking back at Amelie, she doesn't seem pleased that Claire is daring to tell her how to react, and I'm about to jump in when Amelie looks at me – and she isn't the happy woman I had dared hope she would be.
"You left him there to destroy his morals, killing anyone who came close because he didn't have anyone to support him," she says quietly, the tremble in her voice only evident to me because of how long I've known her. "He's barely alive still, Myrnin, because of you…I would have…I…words fail me as I try and explain how I feel about this, because whilst I cannot deny my ecstasy that he is returned to me, the cost at which it occurred is almost too great.
"You have disgraced yourself more than you ever have done before, Myrnin, if only for forgetting about him. And I cannot forgive that – for now, at least. If you can save him from this current predicament, where his digestion of the blood he intakes is almost immediate, then perhaps your position in my life will be adjusted to its former level. For now, I never want to see you again. Leave my home, return to your home, and do not bother me.
"As for you, Claire, you are to return to your life as normal; return home, rest, and then study before working with this man. I want advancements within the next few days about Sam's condition…and…you are to tell Michael why his grandfather is alive, if Myrnin cannot manage it himself." Amelie's voice is indicative of her anger, now, and the feeling in my body is most certainly one of sadness.
There is a difference between the sadness that Claire hates me, and the sadness that Amelie does; my longest friend ought never to need say such a thing, when all I have ever done is defend her, yet I cannot deny that she is right. I should have told her…and it's wrong that I didn't remember to.
"Very well, I shall leave and not return until I have good news," I sigh, not meeting Amelie's eyes as I stand. "Make your own way home, Claire. Do not feel as though you must take the portal with me, no, not if it makes you uncomfortable." I'm being harsh, almost petulant, with my tone and choice of words, but I don't care; I'm angry, hurt and ashamed.
With this, I walk out of Amelie's drawing room and don't look back; I don't listen to whatever she's undoubtedly saying to Claire, don't listen for Claire's progress out of the room – I just leave through Amelie's office's portal and return to my laboratory.
Now is time to put Claire out of my mind and put together a cure for Sam – if she doesn't join me, that is.
Something tells me that riling Oliver is the only fun I'm going to have for the foreseeable future.
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If I get 15 reviews, the names get drawn and the winner gets a oneshot, ok?
Oh, but if you're waiting for a chapter, you should go and read some of my other stories: Oppression is my new Clyrnin story, and Rivulets is my best (in my opinion) writing I've ever done (SamAmelie). Ok. Bye.