The swells of the Pacific crashed against the western walls, surf lapping over into the moat-like interior waters, disturbing the peaceful waters as the sea foam glinted in the light of the waxing gibbous moon. An alert viewer might have seen the shadow swim across the wall in one of the bigger waves, splashing lightly into the interior channel. Maybe, maybe, if such a viewer stood on the bastion to the south and happened to be looking north along the fort’s brick wall at just the right time, maybe they would see the shadow slither up the wall and onto the roof of the bastion, a roof once covered only in rock but now…..designed with paths, rocks, gardening.
The shadow wasn’t trying to hide…..it just came naturally. As did the stealthiness of his movements, and the serpent-like tongue that extended from the mouth, tasting the air for any movement or scent from the inhabitants. Running naked through the base wasn’t necessarily his first choice, but it wasn’t the first time it was the only option either.
Each door in the residential areas had been designed to integrate into the “old” decor of an abandoned army base made out of brick and stone, but they still slid open on silent pneumatic springs when approached by the right person, a blend of technology and interior construction to avoid the feeling that people were in a mechanical, soulless base, because the builder had sworn never to live in one of those again.
As he stepped inside to the expanded living quarters, his eyes adjusted to the small lamp still lit in the corner of the hallway. Even though she knew he could see, she always left small lights on in the main areas to welcome him back to their home, no matter how much he roamed due to his insomnia, or restlessness, or….any of a host of other things that caused him to worry.
He walked to the end of the hallway into what he was calling the living room, and then to the corner that held the tight iron spiral staircase that led to the lower section of the quarters that he designed, before padding quietly down the metal into the smaller room that was too wide to be a hallway, but too narrow and long to be a real room. She was still trying to figure out how to decorate it and deaden the sound, but after enough complaints he’d expanded their rooms to include his daughter’s room with a shared bath with a small office or extra bedroom, and on the other side of the vacant hallway room, he’d built the master suite, and put exterior insulation inside the walls for the illusion of privacy for his family. It didn’t do much for his senses, but……it had apparently helped Livy’s sleeping patterns.
He snuck back into the bedroom, walking quietly in the dark, only the moonlight filtering through the old casment turned window turned glass door that now lead to a floating deck. He could have swam all the way over here, but a strange shadow entering from the exterior would still be cause for alarm, no matter how much she got used to his roaming.
As he stepped into the shower, he wondered yet again why she was here. He didn’t deserve such happiness.
After the shower, he wiped the steam down and looked in the mirror, at his real….body. The bright bulbs surrounding the massive mirror took the shadows away, the scales had changed again….not alot, just different colors of what humans would say were green and tan, but……they gleamed in distortions to his eyes, even an iridescent one every so often. Twice a year, things changed slightly. He had no idea what it meant…..and probably wouldn’t unless he talked to a herpetologist. Even then, was it a different aspect of the different snakes combined into his form? Some other significance? Who knew.
He concentrated for a moment, and the image changed to a twenty-five year old sandy haired man, with a host of small scars all over his body, a winged dagger on his arm.
He walked into the bedroom, sliding under the sheet next to the beautiful brunette, with just the hint of blond at the roots, moving over to spoon around her curled body, placing a light kiss at the base of her neck, smiling as she shivered slightly in her sleep. Another one, another shiver. After the third one, she murmured, “Stop that.”
“Come watch the sunrise with me.”
She turned into him, looking with sleep filled eyes. “Ok.”
Before she could move, he was off the bed, scooping her and the sheet up, and carried her out the new glass door and onto the floating deck.
They watched the the sky slowly lighten, the black of night slowly giving way to the blue of a clear, but chilly morning, her body leaning up against the unnatural heat of his dry skin, combining with the sheet to fight off the coolness of the fall air.
He broke the stillness of the morning, “I need ta go in a couple hours. Are ya sure ya want ta go?”
A simple, “Yes.”
“Why?”
She sat up, and turned to face him, knowing that he could see her even with her head highlighted by the morning sun, one hand making a poor effort to clasp the sheet over her perky breasts. “Originally, I thought ya should do this on yer own so that ya didn’t have someone breathing down yer neck. Now I think that may have been the problem all along, that ya didn’t have somebody ta lean on. I’m going ta be that somebody.”
He sat there for long seconds, as he pondered his response. It wasn’t true that he didn’t have someone to lean on, he’d had someone that kept him alive for the last few years. Instead, he smiled and said. “Ok.”
She smiled brightly, the whites of her teeth flashing as bright as the sun, at least too him, before leaning into kiss him briefly. Or at least that was her intent. His hands had other ideas, and eventually, so did she.
She idly flipped the page on the latest issue of People magazine, shaking her head at an advertisement of Silver Spyder merchandise, as he sat next to her, watching him out of the corner of her eye. To any potential passerby or patient or even his own employees, he’d appear utterly calm, just another Paragon Security professional waiting for his mandatory psychiatric review due to exposure to possible Homecon activity. Except she could see the tightness in his shoulders as he hid his weariness, the darkness lurking in his blue eyes.
The door opened, and the doctor smiled brilliantly at them, “Punctual as always, aren’t ye, Oliver. Are ye ready?”
She missed whatever look he must have picked up from Brett as she started to stand, but heard Dr. Downs say, “Whatever is most comfortable for ye, Oliver.”
She’s surprised when Brett takes her hands, kissing her gently on the lips, ““I’d rather walk into any battle than this room, but I think I need to do it…..for me. Will you wait for me out here?”
It seemed strange, of course, to hear the change in his diction, the bare hint of an Australian accent to his American English instead of his normal Aussie bogan drawal. “Of course, whatever ya need, Cowboy,” as she smiled in response.
She watched sadly as he straightened, the warmth draining from his posture, as he pulled the cloak of a soldier around him like armor, a soldier marching towards the executioner.
The office is meant to be warm and welcoming, colors and decorations chosen to put the patients at ease, comfortable. Instead, he sees the images of the mind prison briefly overlaying the reality. He knows the prison was fake, is fake, but still it haunts him.
He sits stiffly on the edge of the couch, across from the chair of Dr. Downs, who looks up 
from his notepad, smiling in genuine warmth, before asking, “How have ye been Brett, it’s been quite some time.”
The broken soldier sits quietly, before sighing lightly as he answers, “No offense, Doc, but if things wer goin’ well, I wouldn’t be here ta see ya.”
“Sounds like ye have an idea of what ails ye then?”
The answer is staccato-like in its formality and briskness, “Paranoia, Irrational Fear, Indecisiveness, Impulse Control Issues, Truth Avoidance, Trust Issues, Relationship Issues, Insomnia, Nightmares, Parenting Issues,” but then the formality breaks when he continues, “an’ last but not least, just bein’ in this bloody office with ya gives me the creeps an’ makes me doubt my sanity an’ reality.” He pauses, “oh, an’ let’s not forget this big fuckin’ black hole in my head that doesn’t know which of my memories are real or fake.” Taking a deep breath, “So I guess I don’t know where ta start.”
“A lot of options, then. Considering who’s in the lobby, why don’t we start there?”
“Probably mixed up with who isn’t in the lobby too……..but fine. I’m not going ta be good at this. Sharin’ secrets has never been my thin’……hidin’ them an’ hidin’ in the shadows is more like it. What do ya want to know, then?”
“Well, why not start with who she is and how she is involved with ye?” Downs genuine smile glows with almost inhuman patience. Brett’s eyes swirl with golden color for a moment, and the forked tongue flickers in a slightly open mouth, searching for the scent of a trap, skin crawling with memories of painful disease, and yet nothing other than memory scratches his senses.
Shuddering briefly, he answers, “Ok, I guess. Well, Amelia Brown….I’m not really sure how ta explain all this because she’s part of the fucked up memories. We met a little over fifteen years ago…..got engaged, she betrayed me…….an’ at the same time protected my family, I guess.” He pauses in thought, “There’s broken memories in between. Some new ones that she told me about…….” Another pause as he considers what to mention, long seconds ticking by into a minute. “I thought she was dead. We, the Alliance I mean, went back to Australia about a year ago, right before the Anubis attack…..so I could at least see my…….our daughter before Anubis ended the world. Obviously she was still alive, married to an Eyes Open scumbag, who captured me and tossed me in the ocean.”
Horror flashed in his eyes from the memory as he relates it, “It’s when Shawna was taken……the team had to rescue my daughter from some Anubis related creature……we came back……an’ eventually, I realized I still loved her even after all that an’ as she shared memories of the daughter I had never met, along with a very brief, painful retellin’ of the horror story of her marriage to Agent Taylor an’ well, that’s when I betrayed Shawna while she was in the fuckin’ mind prison.” Licking his suddenly dry lips, “I guess that about sums it up as quick as I can.” As his now raspy voice grinds to a halt, the body follows suit, settling back on the crisp image of the sandy haired security chief sitting on the couch, instead of the wavery image as his mind regained control of his alter egos now infamous ability to camouflage itself.
“Hmm……” The scratch of the pen against paper is loud to his sensitive hearing as Downs writes in his old fashioned notebook. “And now? What is yer relationship with her today?”
“Uhm, well, we have our daughter Olivia, obviously, an’ ‘melia says she loves me. That she’s always loved me. I guess we’re livin’ together…..but….I don’t know, I feel like I’m betrayin’ her all the time too, while at the same time I love her.”
“You guess you are livin’ together? I’m not sure I follow what ye mean.”
“I was hopin’ ya would tell me what I mean…..” and he smiles at the obviously lame but somewhat accurate joke. Getting no responses from the doctor other than a continuing pleasant smile, “I built out a section of the base for ‘melia an’ I an’ Livy in order to have some privacy from the team, but its still all part of the base an’ there’s no seperation really. We sleep in the same bed, when I can sleep. We…..have sex, a lot…..but at night when everyone else is in bed…..I still wander the base…..an’ think about Shawna.” He pauses again. “You have to know some of this, don’t you?” He sucks in a deep breath, “I guess that’s the betrayal part.”
Downs smiles in response, “The whole doesn’t really concern me,” a response that makes no sense to Brett, but he listens as the doctor continues, “I’m more interested in helping ye.” He writes some more before asking, “In yer attempt to explain to me yer 
relationship with Amelia you’ve brought up other people, namely 
Olivia and Shawna. Why do ye think that is?”
‘I’m not sure I understand the question. I don’t know how else to explain I guess…..” he pauses while he glances out the window, “how would I even seperate it out?” He reaches into his pocket pulling out a pack of cigarettes, “Don’t suppose you can smoke in here?” He sticks a cigarette in his mouth without lighting it. “How do I seperate my feelings for ‘melia from the fact that I hate myself for lovin’ someone else too……an’ if I fuck this up how likely am I going to be around my daughter. I love ‘melia…..but I am so angry about what she did to me and yet……she’s so supportive and I don’t deserve that.”
Silence echoes from the man behind the desk, but Brett continues to look out the window to the side.
“I lost thirteen years with Livy because she made the decision for me……about what she thought was more important to me, about what I wanted. I lost thirteen years with her. Sometimes I wonder, whether she deserved what she got for that decision, an’ I hate myself for wishin’ that pain on her. Then I hate myself more for it because she did what she could to protect Livy, to protect Bryce an’ Brant an’ Bridgette, an’ Mum an’ even my worthless piece of shit father. So all I want ta do is yell and rant, but every time that the rage an’ fear boils over, she tries ta help me…..ta ease my way around the obstacles. Only once did she get super pissssed when I pressssed.” Tremors and long ess’s echo through his voice. “I don’t know, I don’t fuckin’ know anythin’ an’ even with all thiss rage, I know I can’t lose her again……an’ so I sssacrifice what I had with or could have had with Shawna an’ I’m angry again. Always sssso angry.” A shaking hand reaches up and lights the cigarette.
After a few moments of thought and additional note-taking, Downs speaks in a pleasant and calming voice. “How about this….after no knowing that yer daughter and ex-love were alive, ye not only found them, but managed to convince them that being by yer side was the right place to be. Now ye’re reconnecting with yer daughter brightly have managed to rekindle a romance ye thought diminished……or is that too exuberantly pleasant for Brett Anderson?” The smile behind the words shines.
He sits, sucking greedily and quickly on the cigarette, trying to regain some control. “I don’t know what ta say ta that…..how does spinnin’ it change the facts. It wasn’t a romance I thought diminished. I knew, I KNEW, she was dead an’ Livy only wants to be here so she can be some damn superhero an’ GET HERSELF KILLED THANKS TO MY IDIOT BROTHER.” Any momentary control is gone by the time he is yelling, shaking in the seat, forcing himself to stay seated when he wants to get up and pace. Finally, whispering, “I don’t want to give any of them up. ‘melia, Livy, Shawna. I can’t stand it….I…….” and he just stops….before continuing very quietly. “I….I knew Livy was mine over three years ago. Henri an’ Apex found a file. It had a picture of ‘melia’s kids an’ her husband………an’ I didn’t go get her because……..because….I didn’t deserve to go get her. I left her there. What’sssss ssshe going to think whe sssshe findsss out. That I am ssstill hidin’…..what’ssss either one of them goin’ to think.” Rubbing his face, “I’m ssso tired of hidin’ everythin’.”
The doctor steeples his fingers before responding, “The lens that you look through can be the most important factor in determining success or failure. There are resources that are available to you, but you have to use them. If you are constantly looking at outcomes through a lens that only highlights failure, then you’ll become accustomed to failing.”
He pauses momentarily, “Here’s what I mean. Ye just said that Olivia wants to be a superhero because of….your brother. But ye’re her father…who is also a superhero. Did it ever occur to ye that maybe she’s wantin’ to become a superhero because of ye? Ever think that maybe she hasa bit o’hero worship going on and is just acting on it?”
The broken man sits still for a couple of minutes, “Success at what, Doc? I get yer tryin’ to spin this but I don’t think we’re talkin’ about the same shit here. I get it that Livy has some hero worship with Bryce…..he saved her, the team saved her, if she remembers it anyway, not me. I wasn’t there when she needed me. He made her his sidekick an’ I blew my fuckin’ gasket. I get it, I’m angry about it, but I’m tryin’ ta…..accept it I guess. But why would I ever want her ta be like me…..ta see or live with ta shit I’ve done……an’ that doesn’t even count the almost fifteen years of shit that I’ve done that only surfaces in some sort of horrific dream because they broke my mind somehow. It only counts the stuff I know I have done…..an’ frankly stuff I’d do again without hesitation if my family was threatened.”
Some more notes and then, “Let’s get after this another way then…..what are ye’r positive qualities?”
Bitter laughter echoes across the room, “How the hell should I know…..half my life is missin’ or tainted by what the project did to me……I guess yer goin’ to have to give me an example.”
Downs looks curioiusly at him, “Yer positive qualities don’t require a past, Brett. What are some thing’s ye’re good at?”
“I thought context was everythin’ Doc, but if we are playin’ make believe, well then here ya go….”
Downs interrupts, “Is it make believe to assume yer good at some things?” his voice, smooth, calming, peaceful.
“Fantasy is pretendin’ that the past didn’t impact what I’m good at, or why I’m good at it, but….” taking a deep breath to ease the frustration, Brett continues, “I’m not sure how this is relevant or how ta do this. I’m a Do Kwon Master, I can field strip and shoot any weapon in active service across the globe, an’ a bunch that haven’t been in active service for decades. Not sure if genetically engineered shit counts, but even before that I was the fastest promoted special ops soldier an’ scout in the history of the ‘peace time’ Australian Army. I was an’ am great at hidin’ an’ movin’ quietly. I’m fluent in eight languages, some of which most Americans haven’t even heard of an’ can cuss and order a beer in a bunch more. There’s probably a bunch of stuff related ta what Eyes Open did ta me……but besides that, once upon a time, I could sing pretty well. Bit out of practice now. I can make a mean batch of scrambled eggs. I’m a security expert, even if nobody listens, an’ a demo expert. I like ta jump out of airplanes, climb mountains an’ dive deep, whether via scuba or free divin’. That what ya want?”
“We’re getting closer.” He continues to jot notes in the pad before looking up again, “Talking only about yerself, what would make ye a better father to Olivia than yer brother, Bryce?”
“You want me ta compare myself ta Bryce about being a father ta my daughter? Why the fuck would you even think of askin’ me that?” Rage pours off of him, control flashing as his instinct to hide echoes through his body. The features of the angry man devolve into the features of the snake, who is up, standing in front of the doctor. Quick breaths hiss through the room, anger screams through the quietly spoken answer, “I don’t know how ta answer that question. She’s my daughter. I love her. I love her more than anythin’ else in this world. I don’t know how ta say ‘here, here is what makes me a better father.’ All I know is I’m terrified of screwing it up. I want ta protect her an’ teach her an’ just hang out with her. Be around her. Make up for everything I missed. I want ta think that I’d do anything for her. I guess I can’t really say that I’d be better than Bryce. But I want ta be. I WANT ta be her father. Do not ask me such a question again,” the words silent, deadly.
“What quality do ye possess that give ye the inspiration to WANT to be her father? Just one is enough. Any one. Yer choice.”
He sighs, “Maybe I’m just not gettin’ it. I don’t really understand. She’s my daughter. I don’t know how ta say somethin’ inspired me ta want ta….I remember wanting to have kids…..at some point. But ever since I figured out she existed, I dreamed of having her with me. I didn’t think about why. Instead, I told myself that she was safer with the family she knew. The……father….that she knew. I was wrong. How are ya supposed ta figure out why you want somethin’? I just do!” A sibilant sigh again, “I just want ta be there for her, not like my Dad who was never there for me.”
The scratch of the pen on the notepad seems almost soothing for a moment as the doctor continues to write, giving him a chance to breathe and recover from the emotions raging through him. When it stops, he looks up at the doctor again, “True or False, Brett: Being able to identify the strengths and weaknesses of an oppoonent is essential in increasing yer chances of victory?”
“Of course its true. Are you implyin’ being a parent is a battle or a war?”
“And if ye are looking to be a good father – which makes yer opponent in this circumstance a bad father – how would ye assess the strengths and weaknesses of that oppponent?
Brett thinks for a bit before responding, “I don’t know. A good father…..shows up. He’s there intead of drunk in some bar; he supports his child. He teaches right from wrong. He provides discipline, structure, but support.” He pauses again, “I don’t know how ta put it into words. I do think I’m screwin’ it up. I’m always here or on Alliance business. We’ve isolated her from people, other teens, I don’t know.” Clenching his hands together, “I know I’m too protective. I’m trying not ta be too controlling. I just see a lot of me in her. I don’t want her to have the same pain. I don’t know how ta do that.”
“A good father shows up. Aye or nay, Brett. Have ye shown up for Olivia?”
“No.”
“And what is keeping ye from doing so?”
Finally slumping down on the couch, collapsing in on himself, “Fear and lies.”
The pen scratches as he sits, staring at nothing, before he hears, “I’m a bit confused Brett. Ye rescued Olivia from Dryse, ye’ve brought her to Tempest Pointe. Ye’ve continued to promote her racing career all whil training her in martial arts, athletics and several other skillsets that she would not otherwise have learned without you being involved in her life. What do you consider showing up if that’s not it?”
“For almost thirteen years, she was with him, guided by him. We haven’t told her she was rescued. Instead we told her he just didn’t come, that he abandoned her. She’s got no social life, no normal friends, no…regular school. No hangin’ at the mall or theater or whatever the fuck normal kids do. I…know what isolation feels like. I….are you seriously tellin’ me that all of this is normal or healthy or…..showin’ up? Sure at the base I….we can teach her all kinds of bad ass superspy/soldier stuff. But is that really life? Maybe it is. It seems like its all I’ve known. Does that make it right?”
Downs smiles warmly, “Ye do a good job at persistent avoidance by constantly changing the topic of what ye can control to that which ye can’t control.”
“I’m not tryin’ ta avoid anything Doc, and I guess I need that last part explained in simple English terms.”
“Very well, Brett. Do ye have Time Traveling powers? Because if ye don’t, then focusing on the past is fruitless due to its unavaoidable consistency. In which case, focusing on the present would be more condusive to improveing these relationships? Brett, the first thirteen years of her life are unchangeable, and yet they seem to dominate yer thoughts. Not how ye can make for what ye consider time missed, but tormenting yerself without quarter simply because they exist.”
He sighs again, quietly speaking, “I…..know. But I don’t know how ta stop. How do I really know her if I don’t know what was important to her durin’ those years? For that matter, how do I get past it with ‘melia. I don’t want ta be angry at her for what she did but I am. And then I’m angry at myself, an’ then I’m angry about Shawna an’ it’s an endless fuckin’ circle of pain and doubt an’ it’s all I can think about. All night long…..what if. What if this? What if that? What if this happns? What if I did this? Is it even possible to get what I want? I watch screens an’ roam the base an’ I think an’ wish an’ maybe yer right. Maybe the past is unchangeable. I mean I know it is….most of the time. But not knowing MY past is drivin’ me insane. I mean….I need to know who I am. Who I was…..an’ then I fuckin’ dream nightmares an’ shit about hurtin’ the people I love. I want the pain ta stop. The anger. How am I supposed ta show up for anybody when I can’t think straight most of the time. I just want some peace.”
A broad warm smile greets him at the end of the rant when he looks up, “This might come off as cheesy, Brett, but if I asked ye to, would ye repeat after me?”
“What, like an oath? Withough knowin’? I don’t know if I can make any more promises I can’t keep.”
“Alright, ye decide if yer comfortable with this, and repeat after me…… I can’t change the past and won’t sacrific time in the present focused on it. The time is now.”
Brett slowly repeats it, “I can’t change the past and won’t sacrifice time in the present focused on it. The time is now.”
“Good, Brett, good. Between now and our next session here is what I want ye to try. Any time ye’re spending time with Olivia and/or Amelia, and ye find yer thoughts drifting off to the past and opening the doorway for yer guilt and insecurities, I want ye to repeat that phrase. I can’t change the past and won’t sacrifice time in the present focusing on it. The time is now. Can ye do that?”
“Yes…..but….that’s not ususally when I have most of my problems. And yea, its horribly cheesy. But I’ll do it.”
“Well, then, let’s say that any time ye start to fall into those dark thoughts, ye recite that mantra and see if it helps.”
As Dr. Downs writes his notes, Brett asks “Can I ask ya a question for next time? So I don’t…back out.”
Looking up from his notes, smiling warmly, the Scottish doctor nods, “Of course, Brett. Ask away.”
“I…..” and he pauses, staring at the floor, body shuddering, before gathering himself up, before continuing more calmly, almost as if choosing the less dangerous path, “I mean, is it wrong ta be in love with two people? Is that….possible or just another one of my delusional dreams?”
Downs looks calmly at the figure sitting on the couch, shoulders curled in as if preparing for a blow, “I don’t think ye get a choice in who ye’re in love with. With that said, before acting on anything, if in a relationship with another, ye should have a clear understanding of the parameters of yer relationship before indulging in any sort of extra activity.”
Subdued and quiet, he whispers “I think….I know I already failed….or broke that understanding. I guess I was hoping ta fix it. I know you just told me we can’t change the past……but is it possible ta be forgiven and move forward?” Wiping quickly at his eyes, “Never mind, neither of them would ever agree so….I guess I answered my own question. It’s delusional.”
“Brett, of course. Forgiveness and progression is what seperates mankind from all other animals.”
His head snaps up in shock, “I….how did ya know? How did ya know that was what I wanted to ask? Animal or man?” Bracing for condemnation he drops into his natural snake state, and for a few moments he struggles to return to his “human” skin.
Downs looks kindly at him as his eyes revert from yellow to their original blue, “While it might seem a valid question, I think deep down ye know the answer.”
“Maybe. Maybe that’s the problem. Maybe I’m tired of constantly hiding it, afraid of what Livy will think. I’m tired of lyin’, hidin’, but obviously Oliver Smith can’t be a snake. English would know me in a heart beat. I guess ya were right about my problems. I want things I can’t have.
“Everyone does. Might ye consider that all o’ this energy that ye put on thinking about the things ye don’t have might be better spent on focusing on the things ye’ve got?”
“If that was so bloody easy I wouldn’t need ta see you, now would I?”
The warmth of his smile is almost disturbing at this point, as nothing seems to change it. “I ne’er said it was easy. However, the effort needs to be there. So this really boils down to…..is it?”
“I don’t know Doc. Why can’t I have more? Why do I have ta only focus on what I have? Why can’t I want ta know what happened ta me, even if I have ta accept that I can’t change it? What happened ta my sister, who was the one person I trusted most when things were bad all those years ago. Who encouraged me ta leave even if I felt like I abandoned her when I ran off to the army. Who may be dead but I have no proof, just like Brant was dead but wasn’t. Why not find out why they chosss me, chosss uss? Maybe if I knew all that I could protect Livy more easssily. Or know why she hasssnn’t developed ssssome ssssort of powerssss. Or…..what if I’m jussst making yet more misstakesss in a long line of missstakess that hurt me an’ the people I love.”
Breathing heavily, tongue flickering in agitation. “You asssk me if the effort iss there. I don’t know that I can ansswer that. I don’t just want to accccept everythin’. Something’ inssside drivesss me ta know, demandin’ ta find the truth. How did I break free? Or worse, what if I didn’t, not really. What if that truth is sssomething that can protect ussss? What isss buried sssso deep that I can’t sssleep normally. I know I can sssurvive without sssleep. But what if I could jussst have sssome peacsse. What isss sooo bad that Whitley wouldn’t even help anymore? What did ssssshe ssssssee? I want…..no I need…..ansssswersss. Why can’t anybody sssseee that? I can’t get passst the missssssssing time. I know I sssshould. I know Livy and ‘melia desssservesss better. Ssshawna did an’ does too.”
Ripples in color flash across his body as he struggles to gain control of himself, his speech. “Yet, still it consumes my thoughts.” Speaking precisely. “Everything becomes about it. I need ta know what I’ve done. I need ta. There’s this gapin’ hole just waitin’ in my mind and its drivin’ me…..crazy. It’s suckin’ the joy out of my life an’ it has been for years. And that’s why I’m afraid that I’m screwin’ shit up with Livy too.”
“I tell myself I can get past it but I’m lyin’. I can’t just accept it like Brant or Bryce. I’m happy, beyond happy, thrilled that Livy is here. And ‘melia. But I feel so paralyzed…….I need ta know…..so I can start putting it beyond me, so I can start acceptin’ it.”
Downs smiles warmly and sympathetically. “Those are all good questions, Brett. Ones that we can work on answering next week. Try this week, when yer feeling overwhelmed with questions about the past, or questions that ye can’t change the outcome of….try to recite that mantra. Not just recite it, but live it Give it a try, and in one week, we’ll see how ye’re doing.”
It’s a long count. Sixty seconds. Slowly, Brett forces his body to his control, breathing back to normal, image unwavering, before standing and heading to the door.
“I’m not sure how much this will help but I’ll give it a shot. Thanks for listening, Doc.”
As the door opened and he walked out, she looked up from the magazine she’d been leafing through repeatedly for over an hour now. He turned away from her and she tensed, but he just said, “Cheryl, can you please make me an appointment for the same time next week?”
“Of course, Chief Smith,” Cheryl replied crisply, briefly glancing up from her continuous work at the computer.
He muttered something under his breath, a phrase maybe, then turned to cross the lobby as she rose. She smiled, looking into his eyes, noting the darkness in them, the pain. Whatever they had discussed, he had not had time to resume his normal mask of emotions, or it had been so dark that he was still struggling.
Then he smiled, almost as brilliantly as he had smiled the day she said yes, all those years ago. Even though she tried to keep it hidden, her shoulders loosened in relief. He leaned in and kissed her briefly on the forehead, his lips warm, then he looked into her eyes, “Would you like to come with me to the office? I should check in since I’m here, and I thought maybe you could meet some of the team. Perhaps lunch downstairs after?”
Happiness exploded into her smile as she replied, “Of course, I’d love ta.”
He turned and strode to the door, opening it for her. She walked beside him down the halls of the Paragon Center. When his hand reached out to grasp hers, and he held it even as they entered the security center, she felt….at peace.
He’d timed it to the beginning of weekly staff meeting, so she could meet as many of the people that he’d hired over the last several years to protect this foundation and its patients, including the Academy his brother had started, the staff that gave so valiantly to assist those coping with massive changes in their lives. He’d hired cops and soldiers who believed in the protection of all people, no matter their differences, from all over the world.
He could sense their shock amidst the introductions, the shock when he smiled when he introduced her, but underneath, their….happiness for him. A few knew Shawna, had seen her with him a couple times, seen him at lunch with her vary rarely. For a moment, his smile dimmed, realizing that he had made mistakes by trying to keep this facade life so seperate from everything else, including Shawna. Even if she hadn’t noticed, and he hadn’t, it was another way that he had hurt her, hurt them. Secrets.
He felt Amelia squeeze his hand, and….under his breath, “I can’t change the past and won’t sacrifice time in the present focused on it. The time is now.”
When the introductions were over, she waited in his office, again, patiently, while they ran through updates for the week he had missed, before they went downstairs to have lunch in the Asian Fusion restaurant.
They ordered their food, some of which were not regularly posted to the menu, but he’d been the one who personally did the review of the businesses bidding for space here, the background checks, the interviews. Julie, the Nguyens’s daughter, twenty years old and at university now, had been at the parade with a friend. Julie had been one of the first the center helped to control her abilities, her transformative abilities in times of emotional stress, thankfully before she hurt herself with the claws that extended from her hands and the scales that stretched to the elbow. The family considered them blessings, representation of the form of the Vietnamese Dragon, and welcomed Julie, supported her. Downs had helped her, but he had forgotten that until just now. Regardless, the Nguyen’s always fixed what he ordered, whatever it was. Mrs. Nguyen came around the counter to hug Amelia when he introduced her. “You make him happy!”
When they sat down by the window, she moved into the inside of the booth, knowing he would want the outside, with his left hand free. She knew him, knew he could fight either way, but preferred the left, and he smiled slightly.
He smirked as she slurped her Pho the way you were supposed to, not the way these crazy Americans tried to eat it. Mrs. Ngyen knew his favorites, Pan Fried Dim Sum, Hot & Sour Soup, followed by an order of Paad Thai and a seperate order of Tandoori Chicken with steamed vegetables.
“Hey, I was thinking about Livy’s birthday, well and mine, doesn’t look like the weather’s going to cooperate for snow this year so thought maybe we could do skiing again at Christmas or something, assuming her studies with Henri are going well. But I thought maybe we could take her for her first parachute jump. She could double jump with me. I assume you remember how?”
She choked slightly with indignation, or maybe a pho noodle, then retorted, “Kind of like riding a bike right, or maybe a snake?” laughing in return at his blush.
“Fine, I deserved that. Then maybe a weekend in New Mexico hiking and stuff? Supposedly the American aboriginals have come cool ruins in the mountains by some place called Taos? What do you think? It’s only a couple weeks away?”
“Sounds wonderful, cowboy.”
“Let’s get out of here and back…..home. Did I tell you Whitley invited some reporter to Livy’s race tomorrow? More for an interview for her of course, but……could be interesting.”
As they exited the Paragon Center and walked towards the docks at the edge of town to once again boat back to Tempest Pointe, “I talked ta William last night.”
“Oh, about?”
“I made some adjustments to Livy’s suit. It’ll be ready this afternoon and ya’ll have access ta it just….in case. She can have it at Christmas, assuming, that is, she’s completed all the other requirements….and follows the rules.”
She grabs his hand, “Of course,” and she smiles, turning and pushing him against a random building wall for a passionate kiss.
I can’t change the past and won’t sacrifice time in the present focusing on it. The time is now.
As she pulls away and laughs, he catches up to her, fewer people on the street now. “Hey, I wanted ta tell ya somethin’.”
“So what’s stoppin’ ya.”
“Fear I guess.” As the smile on her face slowly tightens, “I wasn’t really sure how ta tell ya, but I decided I wanted ya to be the first ta know. I think I’m changin’ again…..
“Changin’ what, cowboy?”
“Huh?” As he looks up, his gaze moving to her face instead of on the ground where it had been as they walked, but her hand still grasped his, a bit more tightly. Looking around, with few passerby on this more private street, he turned to face her. “My body…..I remember bein’ stronger, and the scales are a bit different….I can show ya when we get back? I was goin’ to ask Whitley and Apex to do some scans……….why, what did ya think I meant?”
“Nothin’, nothin’ at all…..just wanted ya to be lookin’ at me and not the ground. No hidin’ remember.”
“Yea…I want to tell Livy too……not on Halloween, not right before her race. After the jump maybe. Before Christmas. No more waitin’. There’ll never be a good time.”
She reaches her hand up to caress his face, “Good. No more hidin’.”
“No more hidin.”
I can’t change the past and won’t sacrifice time in the present focusing on it. The time is now.
Last Dreams 