By: Spooks
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Wow, life is interesting.
A few short weeks ago I was huddled in a tree in a standoff between boils down to Good verses Evil...if such things even exist. So much has changed, which shouldn't surprise me. Change happens, as the saying goes.
First with the practical stuff. We've moved back into our old room, once again sleeping in the giant pulled together bunks, the sheets shrouding us and keeping the world out. I'm fairly certain we won't be sleeping like this for too much longer, but for right now it's still nice. We're still posing as regular patients/students, still going to classes, still eating food from the cafeteria. We just go down to that disguised lab now on our own. It's not that different really. It's worlds apart.
It turns out that we made the bad guys into vegetables when we zapped them. No, not tomatoes and squash, don't be stupid. Some of our victims are expected to recover with little to no memory retention, others have had the plug pulled on their life support systems, and a few died immediately from the psychic blow. We wrecked them completely.
Can't say that I care that much. I wonder if that makes me a bastard? Nah.
Anyway, now we're hanging out here at the Asylum under the guise that we're still in the St. Dymphna's Project. Which we are, I guess. The higher ups don't seem to mind that all these big name scientists and lab Drones are now fish food (insert your own inanimate object metaphor, it's fun). Or maybe they know all about it and what happened and just don't care as long as they get something out of the deal. Right now we're getting paid for our services, and we aren't being forced into anything. It's not like they have a choice, we could just kill them with a thought. Even though we wouldn't, it's still a damn good bargaining chip.
So we're living and working and existing here in Bryce. Along with all the undermining the system from the inside and that good stuff, we're also helping the greater population of the Asylum. With our senses turned completely up, we are able to pick out those that can readily be helped from those that genuinely do not have anything wrong with them from those that are psycho-crazy-think-my-toes-are-alien-transmitters-people. Those that are ailed, we can help, those that are not, we can also help just a little, but in different ways. It's a win-win situation.
You might be wondering why we bothered staying here or why we all just didn't fly the coop and try to bring down the corporation from the outside. Well, let's see. Wouldn't that be odd that all these scientists are suddenly dead save for three guys and about seven of the test subjects, five of whom are the most successful patients ever and one of which is related to the other missing person? We'd be hunted, and that kind of ruins things for you. Besides, what could we do? We have no money, no capital to start out with, we'd be brought in quickly. No, of course we wouldn't just randomly kill whomever they sent after us. That wouldn't exactly be fair and besides, there is always collateral damage. By accepting Trieze and Zechs' offer to work with them from the inside, we got to leech off the system while bringing it down. They were paying us, after all.
Hell, maybe I'm just a sucker for poetic justice, but damn! That's a nice bit of irony with a generous side helping of rebellion. Mmmm…tasty.
As for the dead subjects, well, that's something actually something serious. We found their remains floating in preserves all ready for dissection, further study, or even something more nefarious that I can't even imagine. Hey, I'm not a mad scientist, don't ask me. Well, we took them and with a flick of the mind we cremated them, gathering the ashes together and taking them outside. We buried them where the burned out tree had been, right in the roots of a sapling genetic tree that had been planted to replace our old hollow haven. Maybe it was thoughtful, maybe it was just gross, but I look at the growth of the new tree with the ashes as fertilizer as a way those that died to live on. Maybe it's just corny, but there it is.
I guess you're wondering how we're all dealing, how we're adjusting to this all and other such goodness. Well, we're in varying degrees of okay. Wufei, for one, is doing wonderfully, since Meiran can be with him all the time now, their level of interaction multiplied by the growth. It really does break my heart to see them together, I guess the term "till death do we part" just wasn't enough for those two. Wu is able to help out all sorts of spirits now, fully able to communicate and explain and relay messages. It always gets him embarrassed when he has to go up to someone and deliver a message from a ghost, but the shocked look and pure happiness that is the usual response from his words always makes up for it.
And as for dealing with living people, well, as before in the control sessions, Wufei is doing great at healing things. Sometimes I have to help him by sapping some spare energy from the air to give him a bit of added strength, but usually he could handle things on his own. This included everything from headaches to chemical imbalances to stubbed toes. It's absolutely amazing.
As for Trowa, well, the guy is as taciturn as ever, but at least it's a happy sort of silence. Every time I turn around the guy is watching and listening to the little creatures around him. It seems that he picked up on the vision as well as the hearing of the tiny demons and beasties at some point during that second session. He likes his little demon friends.
Hell, he even helped the little bog beasties relocate. We took their machine completely apart, by the way (just in case), essentially destroying their habitat. You should have seen the poor little critters, staring down at the empty plane that used to be there beautiful putrid swamp. They were actually crying smelly little tears. So I gathered up some energy for them and Trowa directed us and the energy to go outside and to a far corner of the yards. Bog beasty relocation. We saved an endangered species, shouldn't we get a medal? Oh well, at least the cafeteria doesn't stink anymore.
Quatre, for one, was a lot happier with his full empathic abilities back. Before he was having a bit of trouble controlling that stray bit of ability that might seep around the mental blocks if a particularly pained individual passed. It would almost knock him over, ya know? Well, he can put up dampers all the time now, which helps make his life a lot easier.
He'll just walk along sometimes or just sit there with Trowa, their minds wandering away together. Trowa would hear the thoughts and Quatre would feel the emotion as they floated, it was like a great little getaway they liked to share. Of course, they wouldn't interfere on private thoughts, just the basic rambling thoughts and most magnetic emotions. If someone really needed some help, say, one suicidal person (not me! Other people now, okay?) was thinking off offing his/her/its-self, then they could step in. Otherwise they tried to respect private boundaries and such, staying where they weren't minded and keeping away from what might be the most personal moments. Responsibility with power, a hard line to walk. Glad I didn't really have to worry about that too much.
As for me, well, I'm not really that important. I'm actually still growing a little bit everyday, and I'm starting to develop the hearing to go along with my preternatural sight. Pretty handy. I'm very good at manipulating ethereal energy, too, I can use it as a subtle tool or wield it like an axe. There's a lot there to deal with, especially in a place like this. Still I wonder why Zechs had made such a big deal about me being important. It bugs me because I'm not living up to what I figured his expectations were. Oh well. Maybe later.
My telekinetic abilities are coming along pretty well, too. Heero's able to help me a bit with those, but not nearly as much as he'd like. Like I think I mentioned before, he had a lot more mental blocks to break down than the rest of us did. Slowly but surely he and I were working on those, together, but it went in plateaus of progress, which was frustrating. Very frustrating. Finally we had a breakthrough a few days ago, one that will probably echo through the rest of my life, coloring my every waking moment with its aftereffects.
We were sitting in our old room, our current room, shielded away from the world by the messy sheets posing as curtains tucked in the upper bunks. We were about neck deep in our private session, meaning that we had been working on breaking through Heero's mental blocks for about an hour. By this time he was soaked in sweat from the effort, and I was under extreme psychic stress, on the trembling edge of exhaustion. Every time we worked like this I'd filter off his pain through his aura, using the borrowed redirection of pain from Quatre's arsenal, even though the ability was developing nicely into something I could do completely on my own.
Even though it was getting easier as we went along, we were still fighting an uphill battle. It was hard going, and we only could work in small bursts every few days, the sessions getting shorter and further between as the difficulty increases and the fundamental blocks fight back intensely. It's just so tiring and so taxing, a torturous legacy left over from a life under the tutelage of J. I'm glad he's dead.
So we're sitting there, correction, I'm sitting hunched over and sort of hugging onto and supporting Heero, who's also hunched over. We're side by side, our legs crossed in front of us. We were getting closer and closer to breaking through a particularly big block, and we both knew that something important was looming on the other side of it.
See, its weird how Heero's abilities worked. He could pull things out of the time stream almost out of second nature and was rapidly progressing to be able to control that ability. Since it had been strengthened exponentially by the growth process, his mastery of the ability was coming quickly, the blocks on it laid with the assistance of the filtering/block machine. It was weird, because as he could pull things from time, he could not see them.
The other part, his vision through different times, was at that time only going to the past if anywhere at all. He could not consciously pull anything up for viewing, and since there was no life-threatening situation to cause his subconscious to start giving him visions, it wasn't really working at all. At least, that's what we figured after thinking about it for an afternoon. It was either decide on that explanation or get even bigger headaches later. Not that Wufei couldn't have fixed the headaches, but you get the idea. We figured that was why Heero's visions had only went up to the certain point with the fire. It was the most significant event right before the machine shut down and we were essentially liberated. Thus why he had been only able to see that far. The visions weren't coming then, either, so we figured that it also factored into the equation.
But anyway, we were moving through Heero's mindscape together, opened up completely and venturing cautiously through. Before me in our mind's eye was a giant wall, and as I watched and supported him, Heero started to hack at it with every bit of energy he had. Shards of white-hot lightning struck him from the looming block, causing him to falter despite my assistance. Finally though, a single tiny hole broke through the center of the barrier, a tiny stab of cool blue light coming through and landing right on Heero's throat. In the mindscape he jolted, then fell to his virtual knees.
Feeling the stabbing pains that I hadn't been able to completely direct away, I immediately pulled Heero and myself out of his mindscape. It's hard to describe it, but the mindscape was a visual representation of his mind and thoughts. A psychic flick of my wrist and we were back in the real world, me now supporting a mostly slumped over Heero in my lap. Gently I shook his shoulders, being sure to support his neck on my legs.
After a long moment he opened his eyes, their strong blue darkened slightly from exertion. Smiling I just smoothed his thick bangs away from his sweaty forehead and asked him if he was okay.
For a second he just lay there, then he nodded his head a little bit, his muscles shaky as he moved slightly.
"Okay then," I replied, relief flooding through my veins in an icy comfortable torrent. Oh so carefully I eased him to lay down on the mattress instead of on my legs, sliding out from under him and extracting my limbs from around him. "Let me get you a wet cloth to cool you down a bit."
Edging over to the edge of the bed I eased my legs down slowly. They were all pins and needles from being in the same position for so long. As I stretched my back and started to stand, I was so occupied by keeping my balance on my numbed legs that I almost missed it.
"Thank you."
Barely whispered, very broken they came, but the words were uttered.
I sat back down. Fast. My poor legs had given up the fight. All my attention was to the impossible words I had just heard. Not because of their meaning, no, because they had been uttered at all. Heero had just spoken. He could talk! I never thought he'd be able to talk again!
Shock and joy ganged up on my soul and knocked me for a loop. I spun around and looked at Heero, who looked as shocked as I felt. He had one hand over his mouth and was propped up on one elbow, eyes wide and full of a thousand good emotions. I screamed happily and fairly tackled him.
"You talked!"
Wow, I was so coherent, revel at my superior choice of wording and mighty conversation skills!
Heero just nodded and half returned my crushing hug, his attention divided by his exhaustion, his shock, and me. He opened his mouth again, but words didn't come out, only quiet little murmurs that didn't mean much. Confused, he pulled himself away from me and furiously scribbled on his little notepad. I watched him write, joy plummeting down to despair thick and sour in the back of my throat. Was it just a fluke?
--I forgot how to talk. I think the 'Thank You' was reflex.--
"I don't care if you forgot how, we can help you remember!" I just yelped back, tackling him again. He laughed a strange little laugh, obviously not cultivated or used in a long time. A sound that hadn't escaped his throat in so long was bound to sound a bit odd. He hugged back this time.
When the other guys finally came back to the room to see how we were doing, they were treated to the sight of the two of us crying happily and clutching each other like a couple of excited little toddlers. They just looked stunned for a moment, and when Heero laughed dryly at their confusion, they immediately understood. A few moments later there was five excited toddlers clutching each other. It was great. I'll remember that moment for the rest of my life.
But now onto more somber subjects. What about my parents and who was their genesis subject? It was something I addressed with Trieze privately, thinking that if anyone could find out he could. So far there hasn't been any leads, and it looks like there never will be. It's just something I'll have to find out on my own. Sure I could ask the other guys for help, but something about this just seems too personal. I'd have to tell them my suspicions about whom I thought the genesis would be. Then what would their reactions be? I know that they wouldn't shun me or treat me differently, but it was something I wanted to do on my own, something I have to do personally if the answer isn't readily available. I need to be the one to bury my past, so to speak. And if Heero turns out to have been their breakthrough subject, as I fear he was, then I'll devote my life to making amends to him, making sure he's happy. Hell, I'd probably do anyway, but it's the thought that counts, you understand?
But still, it bothers me. It makes me sick to think about a tiny little crying Heero being worked on by my two sweet loving parents, the people that I still held up as shining examples of goodness and morality, even after all I've learned. It's an image I can't shake, but I'm reluctant to find out the truth even as actively I seek it. It's complex, to say the very least.
Hm. But anyway, I'm finally winding down. As I think all this over, replaying things in my mind, I can't help but feel the pull to write it all down again. I guess I got some good practice with the journal writing thing in my few hours trapped in that tree. My hand twitches at the memory.
There's so much unanswered, and so much happened. I can't help but think that there should be some record of this that will outlast the fading memories and lives of those that were involved. In fact, I think I'll catch up with all that I missed, then maybe keep track of this journey as we continue to travel onward.
Yes, that sounds like fun. Maybe it's just my ego, but I don't want to be forgotten. I want people to remember me when I'm gone, and I want my story told. Of course, that will all have to wait until we bring down the corporation, and I can't see that in the near future. But it's something to plan for, at any rate.
It would be easy if there weren't all the innocents to worry about, all whose lives depend on the jobs that Romefeller provides. It's too big to stop, I guess we're really trying to fix or something it rather than bring it down to destruction. Of course, things like "Kill the Man!" and "Down with the Corporate Reign of Terror!" look better on protest signs.
Well, I guess I'll just have to be patient. The future isn't here yet, and I don't have a clue what's going to happen. I guess I'll just have to wait.
I hate waiting, but least I have good company to pass the time with.
I am no longer alone.
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Owari
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