by L. C. Mawson
Claire frowned, getting the impression that there was information she was missing. “You know that you can tell me anything, right?”
Em nodded. “I know. It’s just...”
“Complicated. I know.”
“Thanks,” Em said, though Claire wasn’t sure what it was for.
“So, what are you doing up here, anyway?” Claire asked.
Em shrugged. “I’ve been tracking this... pattern, I guess. I’ve noticed it starting to form in the monsters’ movements. It’s only started cropping up in the past five years or so but I’m trying to figure out what’s going on. How they’re more able to get through the walls.”
“Yeah, once they settled outside the walls, wasn’t there a while when they only attacked when we ventured into their territory?”
“Exactly. But then, five years ago, that changed.”
Claire nodded. Her mother had been one of the first victims of the renewed efforts by the monsters.
“Do you think that if you get the pattern down, you could predict the attacks?”
“That’s the hope.”
Before Claire could say anything else, there was a beep at the console.
“Monster attack,” Em explained as she tapped at the keys in front of her.
“Em? Love?” Vengeance’s voice called over the intercom.
“Yeah?” Claire replied.
“Jealousy is with me. The others are still an hour out. Love, I want you to come with us. There’s only one and the three of us might stand a chance.”
“But I can’t access my powers,” Claire replied, trying not to let her fear seep into her voice.
“You can,” Empathy assured her. “You managed it before.”
Claire wasn’t as confident as Empathy was, but her doubts were silenced by Vengeance speaking up again.
“Powers or not, the three of us will have to do.”
“What about me?” Empathy asked.
“We need you back here, monitoring the situation,” Vengeance told her.
“I’ll be back soon,” Claire assured her, heading towards the lift.
CLAIRE HAD NEVER BEEN in the dropship before. It was a bulky aircraft with a lot of rounded edges. It looked like it was made out of bubbles. In the middle, there was a large door which slid out to let the Aspects in and out easily. It was open as Lita hovered the ship near the town square, where the Dragon was climbing over the war memorial statue.
“Try to subdue it,” Vengeance told her. “Jealousy and I will try to distract it.”
Claire nodded, her words lost. This wasn’t going to work. They must know that it wasn’t going to work. She calmed a little as she thought it through and realised that if she failed, Vengeance would be able to use his power. Though that could only happen if the monster had already hurt someone.
She jumped out of the ship following Jealousy and Vengeance, hoping that she could live up to Empathy’s faith in her.
She focused on Empathy. The younger girl had been what had helped her before, she was sure. Her need to look after her must translate into a kind of love, she figured, though it was all too new to her to be confident in that assessment.
She turned her attention back to the Dragon, which was quickly swinging its head between Jealousy and Vengeance as they taunted it in opposite directions.
Claire focused her feelings of needing to protect Empathy, trying to focus those feelings into something tangible. Something she could use.
The monster turned to her as she felt as if she had a tight reign on those feelings. It seemed to be examining her and she dared to open her mouth.
“Stop,” she managed to say, hoping that the creature would obey her commands.
The Dragon ducked its head, seemingly in deference, and Claire felt a wave of relief crash over her as it slowly and cautiously made its way over to her, like a cat trying to assess a stranger.
Claire’s relief was short lived, however, as the Dragon approached her, only to knock her aside. Her world went black as she crashed into the wall of a nearby shop, her breath knocked from her lungs.
She struggled to pick herself up off the cold ground, her skin raw and stinging from where the pavement had scraped it off. Her eyes struggled to open and in the darkness she heard the all-too-familiar screech of the Dragon. Its signal before an attack.
She managed to wrench her eyes open just in time to see the Dragon spit fire at a young boy. Maybe ten years old. His torso seemed to melt away, though his head was intact as he fell to the floor not three metres from Claire.
As he fell, his lifeless, glassy eyes were facing her direction. The same silver-lilac as her own.
She heard the sounds of her fellow Aspects shouting. She heard the crackling of Vengeance’s power. She heard the death screech of the monster. It must have caused a lot of pain for Vengeance to so utterly destroy it. Was it the boy’s pain? Was it hers? Was someone else mourning the fallen child?
She heard a voice that sounded like Jealousy, though the words didn’t register.
She couldn’t take her eyes off the boy’s to face her fellow Aspects.
Vengeance’s voice was next, though she couldn’t decipher if he was addressing her or Jealousy.
He moved around in front of Claire, blocking the view of the boy and breaking her stupor. She looked up at him and the hand he was offering her. She didn’t want to touch his skin. The very idea made her squirm.
She sat up as best she could, despite her wounds. She eventually managed to stand on her own and followed the others silently to the dropship.
THE TRIP BACK WAS SILENT and when they returned, the others were waiting for them.
Justice yelled something at her brother as soon as they arrived, but Claire had to concentrate to understand. She could hear the individual words but they no longer made sense when strung together.
“What-”
Beginning of a question.
“-the-”
Small word. Probably not important.
“-hell-”
Low level curse word. Usually only offends devout Christians. Also an aspect of the Christian afterlife. Though the first use is more likely.
“-were-”
Past tense of was.
“-you-”
Addressing Vengeance.
“-thinking?”
The process of having thoughts.
Claire frowned, trying to string the words together. It took her a few moments, but she eventually got it.
Vengeance had already replied to his sister while Claire was thinking. Hate was the one speaking now, but she missed most of the words. All she could pick out was “PTSD”.
Did they think she was traumatised?
Could she really be traumatised after only one event?
She supposed that she could, if the event was horrific enough.
Witnessing a brutal death seemed to be something that would be classed as “horrific enough.”
But it wasn’t the death that was bothering her. At least, not the brutality of it.
It was the eyes.
Her eyes.
Her rare, silver-lilac eyes, staring back at her from a dead body.
“There have been no documented cases of silver-lilac eyes,” she said aloud, repeating what the doctors had told her after her mother had died. The cop with her had asked if she was a Half-Blood. “I suppose it could be a rare side-effect of certain Rena and Human genes mixing, but that would require further testing. For now, the girl seems fine. A little scared, but fine.”
Hate moved over to her.
“And-”
Connective word.
“-what-”
Beginning of a question.
She missed the next word.
“-now?”
The present.
Claire frowned. Was Hate asking how she was?
“How-”
Beginning of a question.
“-do-”
Action.
“-you-”
S
he was addressing Claire.
“-feel-”
Having emotions or the sensation of touch. Probably the former.
“-now?”
The present.
Yes, Claire determined. Hate wanted to know how she was.
“Fine,” she managed to say, though she wasn’t sure if it was true.
“Are you sure?” Hate asked and Claire was glad to have heard it all in one go.
“Fine,” was all Claire managed to repeat back, with exactly the same inflection and tone as before.
“Scan her,” Hate said, turning to Empathy. “Make sure her wounds are as superficial as they look.”
Empathy activated a scanning device and Claire winced at the awful buzzing noise coming from it. As it shut off, she realised that she was making distressed keening noises from her throat.
“You’re fine,” Empathy assured her. “Just a little banged up. You’ll heal fine with some rest.”
Claire nodded, turning and heading towards the lift.
“Do you mind if I come up with you?” Hate asked as she jogged up to her before the lift arrived.
Claire nodded.
“Wait, is that a ‘yes, you do mind’ or ‘yes, you can come up’?” Hate asked, confused. “Actually, rephrase. Can I come up with you? Is that okay?”
Claire nodded once more.
Hate gave a relieved smile as she followed Claire into the lift, her posture immediately relaxing.
“Is your hearing okay?” Hate asked as the lift took them up, placing two fingers on her ear to indicate what she was asking.
Claire frowned. The only word her mind would give her to describe the fact that it hadn’t been working, but now was, was “Maybe.” That wasn’t right. It felt right, like it should fit, but she knew that it didn’t. “Maybe” suggested that she didn’t know at all, not that it was intermittent.
She spent several moments searching for the word that was like “Maybe” but not, her hand tapping against her side as she tried to concentrate through the insufferable hum of the lift.
Eventually she shrugged. A shrug was like a “Maybe” but it fit more.
“Is it dropping in and out?”
Claire frowned. Not really. It wasn’t working before and now it was. She tried to translate the concept into words, but it was too big. Too bulky. She didn’t know which word would come first. There were so many to choose from and too many rules to remember regarding what would come next.
She eventually shrugged once more.
“Okay, well, just tap your ear to let me know when it’s acting up.”
Claire nodded as the lift arrived at her floor. Hate followed her out as she made her way through to the bathroom. She needed to deal with her wounds.
She moved over to the bathroom cupboard and opened it, before staring at the contents. She was drawing a blank. What was she here for again? She looked around before spotting the wounds on her arms. Right. Treating her wounds. She knew that she needed bandages and disinfectant. She didn’t know what to get first, though.
“Need a hand?” Hate asked.
Claire pointed to the wounds on her arm and Hate nodded.
“Grab the white box. It’s the med kit.”
Claire took the box from the cupboard and passed it to Hate, who opened it on the bench. She took out the disinfectant wipes and passed them to Claire.
“Wipe the wounds down and then I’ll spray them with the healer, if you want. They’re not deep enough to need anything else.”
Claire nodded. She didn’t have the motor skills for bandages. She wiped down the wounds, savouring the sting.
“Here,” Hate said, indicating for Claire to stretch out her arms.
Hate didn’t touch her arms, correctly guessing that she would be extra sensitive to touch. She just sprayed the healer from a few inches away. Within moments the sting of the wounds was gone and the redness died down.
Claire moved over to her drawers, pulling out a t-shirt and a soft pair of shorts. She yanked off her sports bra, only to hear a stifled cough from across the room. She turned and remembered that Hate was there. She felt a little embarrassed at her forgetfulness, but Hate had turned around.
Not that Claire necessarily minded her looking, she just supposed that it should be under different circumstances. She wasn’t too sure why Hate was talking to her now. If she thought about it, she would realise that it probably wouldn’t last, so she put all of her effort into deliberately not thinking about it. She was too tired.
She finished changing into her pyjamas as quickly as she could before heading back to where Hate was standing and tapping her on the shoulder to let her know that she was done.
“Right, well... I should probably let you sleep,” Hate said, a little flustered as she tucked her hair behind her ear.
Claire frowned. She didn’t want to be alone. Well, part of her did. Part of her wanted to process this and not see anyone again until she had her words back. But another part of her knew that the moment she was left alone, she would be left with nothing but her memories of cold, dead, silver-lilac eyes.
Claire sat down on her bed and patted the spot next to her.
“Claire,” Hate said reluctantly, reminding the other girl of how much she liked it when Hate said her name. “Look, I just don’t feel... I wanted to make sure you were all right. You’re not in the right state of mind...”
Claire shot her a glare. Her words might be gone and she might be tired, but she knew exactly what she was doing. She wasn’t looking to hook up. She just didn’t want to be alone.
She concentrated for a few moments as Hate hesitated, looking for the right words.
“Not alone,” she managed. It wasn’t right. She knew it wasn’t right. What the hell did ‘not alone’ mean? How on earth was Hate supposed to get what she was saying from just that?
Hate’s gaze dropped to the floor. “You don’t want to be alone after what you saw, right?”
Claire nodded.
Hate sighed, but seemed to be giving in. She kicked off her boots as she made her way over to the other side of the bed. “All right, I get it. But no funny stuff.”
Claire moved her finger over her heart in a cross motion.
Hate giggled. Claire found herself amazed at the noise. She would never have imagined that Hate would giggle like that.
Claire snuggled up under the covers, her weighted blanket offering a nice pressure, but Hate sort of propped herself up on the pillows so that she was practically sitting up. Her waist was where Claire’s head was and Claire couldn’t help but nuzzle up to her side.
Claire had closed her eyes but she could practically hear Hate smile, though it was swiftly followed by a sigh.
“I knew this would happen,” Hate said softly. “This always happens to new Aspects. We like to pretend that it doesn’t but... I didn’t want to see you hurt.”
Claire made a humming sound that she hoped was reassuring as she felt the darkness swiftly consuming her.
CLAIRE WOKE UP TO THE sound of Hate snoring. She propped herself up on her elbow and looked over to the other girl. Hate was drooling a little on her pillow, her hair stuck to her face, and Claire somehow found the whole thing just heart-achingly adorable.
The memories from the day before threatened to swiftly return but Claire pushed them from her mind. She couldn’t change the past, she told herself, as she always did when her anxiety got the best of her. The best that she could do was train even harder and focus even more on finding sources of love.
That didn’t seem so hard right now, she thought to herself as she reluctantly thought about having a shower. She desperately needed one. She didn’t want to risk disturbing Hate, though.
As if sensing her thoughts, Hate began to stir. Her eyes shot open quickly as she bolted upright.
“Claire?” Hate asked, her voice rough.
“I’m here,” Claire said, glad that her words were back. She knew that she always had signing as a back-up, but even that was often be
yond her when she got as bad as she had the night before. Not to mention, she was pretty sure that Hate didn’t sign, so it would have been pointless anyway.
Hate nodded, quickly getting up and putting on her boots. Claire couldn’t help but note that she seemed to be avoiding looking at her.
“Well, if you’re better, then I’d better get out of your way.”
“Hate,” Claire said reproachfully with a frown. She'd hoped that Hate’s openness towards her would last more than just a single night.
“We can’t do this, Love,” Hate told her, shaking her head sharply. “You know we can’t.”
And, with that, she was gone.
Claire was at a loss. She didn’t know how to deal with this. She wanted to scream and cry and hit something all at once, but she could bring herself to do none of those things. Instead, she keyed up her favourite playlist on the speaker system - and no, she wasn’t ashamed of the copious number of rap-metal tracks on it... at least, not much - before grabbing the infinite bubble-wrap toy on her bedside table, popping away at it and watching as the bubbles popped themselves back up.
After a few tracks of the playlist, Claire got up and headed into the shower. She was glad to finally remove the layer of sweat and grime, that she'd only wiped away from the skin around her wounds. Her hair was sticky as well.
She'd been awake for over an hour when she was finally dressed and ready to head down to the communal area. Her stomach churned at the thought of facing the others. Was Justice going to yell at her?
“Love!” Empathy cried at her friend, skipping up to her as she entered the communal space. “Are you feeling better?”
Claire nodded. “Yeah, I am,” she replied, though her eyes were on the twins instead of Empathy.
Justice wasn’t looking at her, however. Instead, she was glaring at her brother, who had his arms crossed sullenly across his chest while his eyes were glued to the floor.
“Do you have something to say to Love?” Justice asked her brother, pointedly.
Vengeance sighed, unfolding his arms as he sheepishly made his way over to Claire.
“I’m sorry,” he said lowly. “I shouldn’t have pushed you into a combat situation before you were ready.”