AB: So last chapter answered some questions but left others as well, and with this fanfiction drawing to a close in just three more chapters, it may need a sequel. Time will definitely pass, both in reality and in the story, before it will be published. Also, I am going to on a backpacking trip with some friends next week, so next chapter will be out either next Friday or Saturday. I am going to go ahead and start the chapter before anyone interrupts me. Trigger Warning: Suicidal thoughts at end of second part. Look for bold breaks to skip. Disclaimer: The Secret Saturdays belongs to Jay Stephens and Cartoon Network. Here is Chapter 23: From Beyond
(Iris's POV)
The gray mist swirls around me, obscuring my feet and the ground. I am alone, which is unusual considering life with the Saturdays normally is. The mist thickens until it becomes a dense fog; now I really cannot see anything. Fearing that it will solidify, I outstretch my arms to make sure the fog is still fog.
I walk for a long time in the endless maze of fog. Either my senses are impaired here, or nothing is going on that requires them. The fog does not feel like clouds. It feels like bricks stacked on the air that I can pass through. What kind of place is this with brick fog? Why am I alone? Where is everybody?
My name echos through the fog. The caller keeps calling and calling my name, but I have no clue where the caller is. I look around and try to find the caller, but the fog prevents any chance of me finding him. The caller keeps calling, only now I recognize the voice. It is impossible, though. He cannot be calling me from beyond.
Desperate to find the caller, I race through the brick fog until I barely miss something. I step back and look up at the person. I gasp and try to bolt, but the person grabs my upper arm, squeezes it, and yanks me back. I feel my heart racing against my ribcage; my hands are sweaty. I have to get out of here.
"Look. At. Me," the person commands. I shake my head, so the person squeezes my arm even tighter. "OBEY YOUR MASTER. LOOK AT ME." Scared and shaking, I glance up at the face of my old master. His face is still as cold and unforgiving as it was when he died. Flashbacks of those six years course through my mind. I look away, a choking feeling in my throat.
"You, my dear servant, are going to help me. Spy on the Saturdays and Dr. Grey and report back to me. Understood?" I shake my head, on the verge of tears.
"No. I don't work for you. I don't belong to you; I never did. Besides, you're dead," I stutter. I want to bash my head against something until this illusion ends.
"Tsk-tsk. Did I teach you nothing? I never die. I will come back, just you wait. And when I do, I am going to make your life miserable. Do you hear me?" I stare at the ground and refuse to respond. He grabs my chin and forces me to look him in the eyes. "Do you hear me?" he growls.
"Yes," I sob.
"Yes what?"
"Yes, Master." He flings me away, and I hit the ground and sob. Why I am so weak? After all the time I have spent with the Saturdays and after everything I have survived, why do I break with this? I promised myself not to go back to this, but look at me.
I sob for a while, feeling like a failure and wanting to take my pain out on myself. Even death would be better than this. Grabbing my right wrist, I scratch myself until the skin is raw and almost bleeding. Seeing the marks makes me cry even more.
"Lève, tu fille stupide. (Get up, up you stupid girl.)" No, I can't go back to speaking French! "Maintenant! (Now!)" I scramble to my feet like a mindless puppet. "Tu vas faire ce que je dis et d'espionnage sur les Saturdays et le Dr Grey. Dois-je me fais bien comprendre? (You're going to do as I say and spy on the Saturdays and Dr. Grey. Do I make myself clear?)"
"Yes," he motions with his hands to keep going, "Master."
"En français. Quel genre de servante es-tu si tu ne peux même pas parler la langue? (In French. What kind of servant are if you can't even speak the language?)"
Though it pains me greatly, I curtsy and bow my head. "Oui, Maître. (Yes, Master.)"
I sit in the brick fog at, though I hate to say it, Master's feet. He is thinking, and it is best not to bother him, lest he gets mad and beats me. These are the habits I wanted to avoid falling back into, but look at me now. I am back to being an object, only now I know otherwise. This is not a healthy situation, and I need out. The situation may even be what Dr. Cooper called a trigger; triggers are unhealthy.
A cool hand on my cheek calms my racing heart. I open my eyes and see Mom and Dr. Grey leaning over me. Mom pulls her hand away from my cheek and asks if I am all right. I nod and try to sit up, but Mom tells me to stay lying down. Dr. Grey peers down at me and smiles as she holds my hand. For a while, I struggle to find my bearings because the world is moving far too quickly for me to register. When I finally do get my bearings, I realize I am in my bed on the airship. I am not surrounded by brick fog, nor is Master-I mean Argost- anywhere nearby. My body begins to relax as it recognizes that I am safe now, but Argost's threat looms over my head precariously.
"Iris, are you sure you're okay?" Mom asks. I nod and then rest my head on my pillow. I do not want to let them know about the threat, especially not now. I may tell them one day, or I may never tell anyone. It all depends on fate at this point.
After a while, Dr. Grey excuses herself and leaves the room. Mom hangs around for a while too, but she soon has to leave. Dr. Saturday takes her place, and we start talking.
"You called me 'Lily' a few days past. Why?"
"That is none of your concern." The suppressed pain is evident.
"You need to tell someone, Dr. Saturday. It will only harm you more if you keep it inside to bear alone." Then I realize I need to follow my own advice, or no one else will. I'm a hypocrite.
Trigger Warning: Suicidal Thoughts at end of this part. Skip to next bold to avoid.
Early the next morning, Doyle finds me researching the Greek goddess of the rainbow. The results pop up instantly, and these results are thankfully all the same. These results just surprise me, and Doyle sees this. He gets me away from the computer and into the living room.
Zak wakes up after a few hours and goes into the computer room; he comes out with the same look of shock I had when I came out. He looks at me and then looks down at his hands.
"So, what they have to do with each other?" He asks.
"I haven't the slightest idea. One is a fruit and one is an ancient goddess. Do you think Mom will know anything?" Zak shrugs and says that he will go ask her. Then I stop him. "Zak, it's eight in the morning. Wait a couple hours before waking her up." Zak whines but stops once he understands. He nods solemnly and sits down next to me the couch.
We sit in silence for a long time, just listening to world outside. Construction noises make their way into the airship; it is a wonder anyone is still asleep. I wonder why Doyle and Zak are up at this time? Why was Doyle awake early enough to know what I would be doing at five in the morning? The questions buzz around my head for a while, before Zak interrupts them asks if I am this quiet by nature. I shrug and say that I never got to know my nature before I was taken. Zak nods; I ask if he is this curious by nature, and he smiles. Then Zak gets a sneaky look on his face.
"Do you want to see what Doyle's up to?" I look around and nod slightly.
It takes every ounce of my strength to keep from bursting into laughter, and Zak is no better. We avoid making eye contact with each other lest we start laughing and reveal ourselves. Zak then points to Doyle and then to himself; I shake my head, and Zak holds up a finger as if telling me to wait and see. Next, Zak quietly clears his throat.
"Oh, Abbey, what do they know? I would leave them all forever if it mean I could be with you," Doyle mutters as he caresses a framed picture of Ms. Grey.
"But, Doyle. I would never want to be with you again. After everything that's happened . . . it's best if we go our separate ways. If, by chance our paths should cross, then we can consider it." Doyle draws back from the picture in utter shock. Did the picture just speak because it sounded exactly like Ms. Grey? Looking up at Zak, I spy him smirking and stifling a round of laughter. I shoot him a look to knock it off, but I start giggling instead.
"But why, Abbey my love? We are meant for each other," Doyle pleads.
"No, dear, we're not. Oh, don't worry, I'll find someone better. Can't say the same for you, though," Zak sounds so serious in his impression of Ms. Grey, despite the giggles he is fighting. I look down from my hiding place in the air duct and watch Doyle plead with the picture. It almost makes me want to cry.
"If I didn't know better, I would think Doyle was drunk," I whisper.
"Not drunk, just exhausted. He hasn't been sleeping since he found out Ms. Grey was stabbed those months ago; he's worried sick about her," Zak explains. I reach other and slap Zak on the arm as hard as I can. "What was that for?!" he demands.
"If your uncle hasn't slept for weeks, why are we in here messing with him?! We'll make him go insane and try to kill himself if this keeps up," I hiss in a low voice. Zak hangs his head and starts to crawl out of the air duct; I follow behind him.
Once we are out and have returned to the living room, Zak leans over to me and whispers, "He's technically your uncle as well, and you were letting me mess with him."
"Point taken."
Around nine o'clock, Zak wakes Mom up, and she helps us understand the answers to the riddles. She ponders it for several minutes, but she cannot come up with a solution. I implore her to think further and look farther back into her memories if she has to. When she still cannot recall anything to do with either of the answers, I offer to step in. Mom consents, and I work my magic, quite literally.
Filtering out myself and romantic dates from Mom's memories, I focus my energy on find memories that relate to a date and an iris. Several memories hit, but none of them relate to each other. For the heck of it, I switch to finding Kur-related memories. BAM!
Mom and Dr. Saturday went to Iraq to search for the Kur Stone; Mom was expecting then. They ate dates the night they found and lost the Kur Stone. Forty three lives were lost when they went in to retrieve the Stone, and just after midnight, Zak was born. Only, Mom's memories have more than one child, like what Komodo told me. So what about Dr. Grey's story? What about the iris?
I pull back and tell what I find to Zak and Mom. Zak looks to Mom when I finish and asks when she was planning on telling him he had a twin, but Mom only shakes her head painfully. I turn to face both of them.
"I'm sorry." Then I race from the room. Now I have destroyed their family relationships again. I need to stop interfering and messing up.
I find myself at the cliff behind the construction area; no one notices. All I have to do is fall. It wouldn't hurt to try. It wouldn't hurt to die. The water splashes; I calm down; it is done.
If you skipped this last part, please resume reading here.
More fog. All I see is more fog. In fact, that is all I have seen for the past who-knows-how-long. I stare mindlessly into the endless wall of brick fog. I have no idea where I am or why I am here. All I know is that I am here, alone. Someone calls my name again; the voice sounds the same as last time, but this one has a softer tone. I wonder if all the voices sound the same from a distance in this place, or if this is Argost again. I hope it is not Argost.
I follow the voice to its source, and it is not Argost, much to my delight. Staring at the source, I am taken back six years; I start to weep. The source, my father, embraces me and weeps with me. We have not seen each other since I was seven, despite the number of times he was at WeirdWorld. Father-or Dad, as I want to start calling him again- lets the embrace last forever. Neither of us wants to let the other go, not ever again. If only he hadn't died. Wait, does this mean I'm dead too?
"Iris, you've grown so much," Dad chokes out as he battles tears.
"You too, Dad." Then I notice the ring on his finger. "Did you finally . . . ?" Dad nods, and I smile. "Congratulations, though I'm a tad late. Sorry I couldn't make the ceremony." Dad chuckles.
"There is my Iris. Always making people laugh. Oh, I've missed you." Dad pulls me into a hug; I rest my head on his chest and listen to his heartbeating. Does one have a heartbeat in the beyond? I guess so.
Just like our first hug, this hug lasts for what feels like eternity. It feels good to be back in his loving embrace after six years of being abused. I wish Dad hadn't died because this is probably the last time I will ever see him again. Unless, of course, I am dead. But even then, who knows?
Dad and I catch up for a long time, though I do not mention what happened to me during those six years. The scars alone tell that story. He tells me that he married the woman I grew to love a year after I was taken; they had planned it for that date long before my unexpected departure. I ask if they had any children. Dad says no and that they never slept together until their fifth anniversary. I do the math quickly and am surprised to discover that was only this year. Dad wouldn't know if his wife is expecting a child.
"How is she?" Dad asks.
"Who?"
"My wife of course."
"I don't know. Custody went to the Saturdays; no one else knows you were married."
"But I wrote a second will that gave custody to- no one knows where the will, do they?"
I pause and take a deep breath. "We think someone found it, but it still needs to be validated," I explain.
"Curses," Dad mutters under his breath. The conversation stops there. Silence emerges from the brick fog and cakes everyone and everything around us, including ourselves. This is not how I imagined out reunion.
"Dad, what is this place?" I ask, breaking silence's hold on this unknown place.
"Beyond," he whispers. "It is nothing more than beyond your mind."
"So, does that mean I am dead?"
"Why would you be dead?"
"Because you're dead, and Argost is dead; I've seen the both of you here, so I must be dead. I didn't mean what I said," I cry. Dad wraps his arms around me and holds me as I cry. It's all he can do. I cry for a long time.
"How do you know I am dead?" Dad asks quietly.
"Because I heard it all from the office. They told me you died; they told me about the funeral. You're dead, Father, you're dead. Don't you understand?" I sob.
"Am I dead to you?" he asks, tears rolling down his face.
"No."
"Then, that's why I'm here. I'm not dead unless I'm truly dead to you." Dad hugs me tighter and lets me cry a little longer. I feel like a child all over again. "Now, dry those pretty little eyes, my flower. All will be okay." The hug lasts a long time. Then Dad kisses me on my forehead and promises to never leave me. We say goodbye, and I leave beyond.
I wake up and hear the voices of Mom, Dr. Saturday, and Dr. Grey. They are in a heated discussion about The Secret Scientists as an organization. Dr. Grey is saying that Dr. Beeman has basically taken over the entire organization; everyone answers to him now. Mom says that can't be the case because they are still meeting at that very moment.
"Drew, you do realize we are all that is left of what the organization used to be?" Dr. Grey sighs. I crawl out of bed and watch the three. Mom nod solemnly. "Then why are living in a mindset all the others are just mistaken and will come back? Drew, I've worked alongside them; they have no intention of coming back." Dr. Grey takes a long (and rather dramatic) pause. "And neither should we?"
"Then what will we do? What are you planning to do?" Dr. Saturday asks.
"Drew could become a doctor; she has her M.D.. And you, Doc, could become an engineer; you were a STEM major after all. As for me, I have jobs I have applied for." The three talk for sometime before Mom and Dr. Saturday excuse themselves. Dr. Grey stays seated on the couch, so I exit my room.
Suddenly, Dr. Grey's phone rings; she pulls it out, reads the number, and her face glows with emotion. She stands up quickly as she accepts the call and races towards the door.
"Dr. Grey, whose side are you on?" I ask, but she is already out the door.
AB: That's all I have for the chapter this week, so I hope you all enjoyed it! It's so hard to believe that there are only three chapters left, yet some many questions remained unanswered. I hope you all have taken a look at my Facebook page. If not, there is a link on my profile. I love you all so much, and I will post the next chapter next week. Don't forget to follow, favorite, and review! Bye!