Prompt 6 – Dizziness/Vertigo/Prompt 17 – Brain Fog/Spaced Out

The middle of the Atlantic Ocean was a very bad place for this to be happening.

After helping Dr. Millington with studying wild snakes in the coastal forests of North Carolina, all Moffitt was looking forward to was getting back home to Britain. It had been nice to help out Millington, as well as see Hitch for a little while, but a strange feeling had been looming over Moffitt since he stepped on the plane. At least Vanora had come with him. Her presence always helped, but this time, the dreadful feeling was a bit overwhelming. Part of Moffitt wondered if it had anything to do with the snakes in the cargo hold, some new residents for the laboratory at Cambridge, along with animals on a breeding loan. That couldn't be possible. He had made many flights before with snakes on board. Usually, he could make psychic conversation with them, reassure them that they were going to a good place, where they would have regular food, warm places to sleep, and plenty of humidity for easy shedding. Now, he couldn't hear them, no matter how hard he tried to contact any of them. It didn't make sense, and it was starting to hurt. Despite that, he kept trying. Part of him was telling him that continuing was a bad idea, but it made no sense. He should be able to connect with the snakes.

"Are you alright, Jack?" Vanora asked.

"Hm? Me? Yes, I'm alright," Moffitt said.

"You've been holding your head for the last half-hour or so."

"I have?"

"Yes, love, you have."

"Bit of a headache, that's all."

Vanora gave him a concerned look. "Are you sure you're alright?"

"You just asked that."

"I know, but… something doesn't feel right."

Moffitt couldn't disagree with her on that. What he was feeling was oddly familiar. At least, he thought it was familiar. He couldn't tell.

"Jack?"

"What?"

"This isn't just a headache, is it? I've said your name several times now and you didn't respond."

Moffitt felt hot and cold at the same time. Blurry dark spots bloomed and shrank across his vision. His heart started pounding faster and harder. He was overcome with a desire to vomit, but didn't feel like he had control of his own body; he couldn't get up and run to the bathroom. Fortunately, Vanora thrust a sick bag onto his lap before he threw up in his lap.

Millington looked over at them from his seat. He was quite close, but to Moffitt, he sounded like he was far away. "Is everything alright?"

"No," Vanora said. "I think Jack's about to have a seizure. Was there anything wrong with any of the snakes you're taking home?"

"No. I checked all of them for injury and illness before getting them ready for the flight," Millington replied. "If it isn't snake-related, it—"

"It's snake-related," Moffitt said. Anxiety began crushing his chest, and he began breathing more frantically. "I can… I-I can… I can f-feel it…"

"How is that possible? You've been in control of your abilities for two decades."

"I don't… I don't…" Moffitt trailed off, spitting into the sick bag in an attempt to get the taste of vomit out of his mouth. He briefly looked up, and saw the transparent form of a large white cobra draped on the back of the seat in front of him. The snake disappeared as quickly as it came. He looked down at his arms. Snakes of all species were coiling around him, nuzzling him. He felt something squeeze tightly around his head. Involuntarily, he stood up. Wave-like sensations began surging through his head. Everything around him was spinning. Not something anyone wanted to feel on a plane. "Are we going to crash?" he asked.

"We're not," Vanora said. "Come sit back down, Jack."

Voices were trying to get to him. The snakes in the cargo hold. They were speaking. He couldn't make out what they were saying. He couldn't focus on them. It was as if everything he learned after meeting Anah in North Africa had been erased. He was back to where he started all those years ago, where he had no control, where the simple act of making eye contact with a snake would cause this to happen. A tight sensation took hold of his chest, on top of the crushing anxiety. He wanted to throw up again, but there was nothing more to bring up. Ice-cold sweat was running down his face. He felt as though his skull was filling up with air. He squeezed his eyes shut, and tiny tremors started moving up and down his limbs. The tremors gradually became more violent, especially when he let go of the backs of the seats he had been using for leverage. He knew what was happening, and yet he was frightened. This shouldn't be a problem anymore! What is happening to me?!

All at once, conscious control stopped. Moffitt could no longer feel his own body. It was as if someone turned off a switch. He could hear Millington shouting to get him eased onto the floor, then everything went black.

It didn't feel like a lot of time passed when Moffitt regained consciousness. The first thing he noticed was that he was lying on his side in the aisle between the seats in the plane. The second thing he noticed was that both hands were sore and covered in red marks.

"Easy, Jack. Can you hear me?" Vanora asked softly.

Moffitt nodded.

"Do you know where you are?"

"We're… still on the plane, aren't we?" Moffitt asked.

"Yes. Do you remember what happened?"

"I started to feel very sick, then… then collapsed. What happened while I was out?"

"You had a seizure," Millington replied. "It wasn't the worst I've ever seen you have, but you had very little room to thrash. You hit your hands several times on the seats. You're alright now."

"It doesn't make sense, though."

"No, it doesn't, but it happened. Unfortunately, there's nowhere for the plane to land until we reach Britain. We're over open ocean right now."

Moffitt gave another nod. He was still confused, and his head and limbs felt heavy. Vanora helped him back into his seat, and took care of him while Millington took care of keeping other passengers from being a bother. The couple sat in silence for a little while, allowing Moffitt a chance to pull himself back into reality.

Vanora let out a quiet sigh. "I don't want to see that ever again. Your father was right about it being disturbing and unpleasant to witness." She looked out the window. "I'm sorry. I should be… trying to help you, not being upset by what I saw."

It just occurred to Moffitt, as his thoughts gradually began to clarify, that this was the first time Vanora had witnessed a seizure of any kind. A feeling of embarrassment surfaced. It was bad enough that this happened on a plane full of people. It was worse that it happened in front of his wife. He had told her about this occurring in the past, before he had control over his abilities, or at the university, when assisting Millington with snakes in distress. "I don't blame you for being upset, and I don't want you to feel like your thoughts on this don't mean anything. It's not exactly fun for me, either."

Vanora nodded. "Thanks. Honestly… I wasn't sure what to do."

"You listened to Millington, right?"

"Of course."

"Good. That's all you needed to do. This wasn't his first time having to help me through this." Moffitt leaned over to put his arm around Vanora, gently pulling her close to kiss the side of her forehead. His thoughts were becoming clearer, and he soon found himself worrying about why or how this happened in the first place. He felt it was due to his abilities, but he couldn't help wondering if there was something else. Perhaps all those head injuries during the war were catching up to him. Perhaps it was illness, something non-magical.

There was already a lot Vanora had to deal with, and the last thing Moffitt wanted to do was add something else. He held her close for the remainder of the flight, and was glad when they finally returned to England. The gladness didn't last long, as he soon found himself inwardly panicking about what was going to happen next. None of this made any sense. After learning what his snake-whispering abilities were and training with them after meeting Anah in North Africa, he thought he had successfully "tuned" his mind in order to communicate with snakes with no issue. Psychically talking with them was second nature now. He no longer had to worry about overloading his brain. Granted, he could still have seizures relating to his abilities under certain circumstances. If a snake was in extreme pain or stress, if there was something present that could block his communication with them, or if he accidentally forced himself into a seizure by trying to communicate with snakes and there were none around for many miles. He really hoped it wasn't a problem with him, but the lack of answers was pointing more and more toward him. Moffitt thought about scheduling an appointment with a neurologist, but paused when he spotted Millington walking over to them.

"Well, I have good news," Millington said. "One, all the snakes made it safely, and two, the plane's crew found what most likely triggered your seizure. A witch was traveling with potion ingredients in her luggage, including a jar of silver powder. I'm no magic expert, but I do know silver interferes with all magic. It must've blocked Moffitt's ability to communicate with the snakes in the cargo hold."

They were all silent for a moment. Moffitt wasn't sure what to say, despite having gotten what was likely the best-case scenario. He wondered if it was that irritating little voice in his head that he struggled to shut up at times, because it told him he didn't deserve such luck. Yes, it was definitely that voice. He looked down, still holding Vanora's hand, silently trying to stop that voice and be grateful.

"The jar wasn't properly enchanted, was it?" Vanora asked. "Silver in high quantities like that is supposed to be enchanted with a sealing spell."

"Apparently not. We just finished speaking to the witch, and she feels terrible about what happened."

"She had no way of knowing that would happen," Moffitt said. "Terrible, yes, but I wouldn't feel too bad."

"At least this makes sense, given how debilitating silver can be to anyone with any degree of magical ability," Vanora said. "I wish I had theorized that on the plane. We were both worried this was the start of something awful."

Millington shook his head. "No. Thank goodness. We won't have to worry." He tried to smile, but he was also sympathetic. "Are you both alright?"

"We will be, yes," Vanora said.

"Good. Alright, I'm off to get our new friends delivered to the university and set up in quarantine tanks. You two ought to go home and rest."

"We most certainly will." Moffitt took Vanora's hand, greatly relieved that everything was going to be alright. He felt her squeeze his hand tightly, and she leaned against him as they left the airport. He nuzzled her in return, equally grateful for the fact that she stayed by him despite how unpleasant that experience was. At no point was he ever going to take her for granted, and he would stay by her no matter what life threw at them.