The change in tone brought Summer’s gaze back up with a snap. “You think I don’t believe you. But both the things you’ve said are true. Are they related?” Her voice softened. “Not that it matters, either way you’re confronted with something even parents have trouble knowing what to do with. Either way you’re afraid of losing your friend, right?”
Allison shook her head. ”What would you think if you were in my shoes? Would you think that I would have believed you?” She pushed her hair back out of her face and sighed. ”Not directly related, no. They just are happening at the same time to the same person. And yes, I don’t know what would happen if we all lost him. He’s important to m…us.”
Summer looked at Allison for a long moment, tongue flicking at her lip. Voice low, she said, “I’m going to tell you something. In exchange for what you’re telling me. Trusting me with. So you know I can be trusted, and that I believe you.”
Reaching up, she unclasped a silver figaro chain from around her neck, and laid it, and the crystal quartz charm it bore, on the table. When she spoke again, a deeper strain was evident in her face and body. “I’m an empath. I can sense your emotions. Your honesty. And I do think that if our places were switched, you would believe me. Because I can tell that this isn’t your first brush with — extraordinary things.”
She stepped past, belatedly noticing the half-curled hair and stockinged feet. “I’m sorry … you were getting ready for something and I interrupted … um.” One hand fidgeted with the ends of her hair. “I guess I didn’t plan this part very well.” She looked up at Allison, and away, and felt herself blushing again. “I wanted to talk to you. Let you ask me things, like I promised.”
“Oh,” Allison shook her head. “Don’t worry about it. There’s a dance thing tonight that i’m going to but, I don’t have to worry about it for another couple of hours at most. So, did you want to come in?” Allison stepped aside just in case the answer was yes. “It would be a little weird to leave you standing on the porch while we’re talking. We can talk while I finish getting dressed.”
“Oh, yeah, sure.” Summer came in and looked around the foyer awkwardly. “I guess … your bedroom is down the hall?”
Summer’s smile matched Allison’s. “Go big or go home. Let’s burn down the hospital. There’s people you know there, right? I like the way that personal betrayal tastes.”
“I like the way you think,” Allison smirked and flipped her hair back over her shoulder. “Let’s go cause some problems.”
Summer dangled her keys from one finger. “I’m driving. I want to go inside. All that pain, all that anguish — I need to /touch/ it. I need to see their eyes when they realise I’m their destruction.” She opened the car door and slung herself inside. “What flourishes would you like to add? Who should we go find?”
Summer sat back with a jolt. “Possessed,” she repeated. “By what? /How?/ You — oh, god.” She’d been thinking suicide, social anxiety, some chronic disease. “What have you — how many of you are there?”
And this is why Allison usually kept her mouth shut. She knew that there was a possibility that this would be the reaction, and yet she said it anyway. ”Uh, you know what. I was just kidding. He has frontotemporal dementia. He’s going to die, and there’s nothing I can do to stop it.”
The change in tone brought Summer’s gaze back up with a snap. “You think I don’t believe you. But both the things you’ve said are true. Are they related?” Her voice softened. “Not that it matters, either way you’re confronted with something even parents have trouble knowing what to do with. Either way you’re afraid of losing your friend, right?”
Summer almost couldn’t reply. The butterflies seemed to crawl up her throat, choking her. She ducked her head, flushing, and gulped in another breath. “Yeah,” she admitted. “I … wasn’t sure how to approach you. You liked it?”
She wanted to reach out and touch Allison, to make sure this was real. Touch with hands, touch with mind, just touch. She held herself tightly in rein, though, desperate not to seem frightening or, well, desperate. She didn’t want to cheat her way into this.
Allison cocked her brow at the girl and looked her over. This was a little strange. She wasn’t sure how to handle the situation. To be honest, she was hesitant to even let the other girl inside with everything that had been going on recently. But the redhead looked human enough so the huntress stepped aside and gestured for her to come in.
“Yeah, it was very cute,” she replied, relaxing her body and putting on a smile.
She stepped past, belatedly noticing the half-curled hair and stockinged feet. “I’m sorry … you were getting ready for something and I interrupted … um.” One hand fidgeted with the ends of her hair. “I guess I didn’t plan this part very well.” She looked up at Allison, and away, and felt herself blushing again. “I wanted to talk to you. Let you ask me things, like I promised.”
Carefully, Summer asked, “What is it you think you can do? What kind of help does he need, that you aren’t already providing?” She shaped her inflection to pure curiosity. No condemnation. “Tell me what’s going on, hon.”
“I don’t know what i can do. I can’t fix this. But I have to try.” She wasn’t sure how much she could tell the girl. If she spilled out the whole story, she would probably call her crazy and walk off. But, there was a small part of her that was curious to know what she would say. “He’s possessed.”
Summer sat back with a jolt. “Possessed,” she repeated. “By what? /How?/ You — oh, god.” She’d been thinking suicide, social anxiety, some chronic disease. “What have you — how many of you are there?”
“But he knows you’re there for him, right? You offer, you say, you are at his side? When he calls, you answer?” She focused her gaze inward a little, then back to Allison. “What is it you think you should be doing?”
Of course he does. She wanted to say but, honestly she didn’t know. ”I hope he does…And I always try to be.” She closed her eyes for a second before answering. ”I should be out there trying to find a way to help him. without him, I’m pretty sure all of us would be different people. He brings us closer together.”
Carefully, Summer asked, “What is it you think you can do? What kind of help does he need, that you aren’t already providing?” She shaped her inflection to pure curiosity. No condemnation. “Tell me what’s going on, hon.”
Summer laughed a little sheepishly. “I found the book to be pretty profound, but I don’t know how many other people would share that thoughts, since it’s a fantasy novel with a masochist as the heroine. All the same, it gave me a lot of thoughts about love.” She touched Allison’s hand. “Are there specific events you’re hung up on right now, or just this general feeling of helplessness?”
Allison nodded. ”Well, masochist or not, I like books with heroines.” She cocked her head to the side and thought about the girl’s question. ”I have this friend…and I don’t know how to help him. None of us know how and it’s hard.”
“But he knows you’re there for him, right? You offer, you say, you are at his side? When he calls, you answer?” She focused her gaze inward a little, then back to Allison. “What is it you think you should be doing?”
It was like having ice run through her veins, something sliding around her mind, quiet and cool. “Oh, god.” Her voice was ragged with relief. “That’s so much better.” She splayed her fingers, looking at her hands, then back up at Allison. “Where do we start?”
“I’m so glad you think so.” Now that the girl was being controlled by her shadow-self there was no need to pretend anymore. Everything was set and perfect. “Give me your best ideas. I’m all ears.”
“Depends what result we want. Mass chaos? Heartbreak city? Death and destruction?” Summer looked down at her hands again, then lifted one finger and lit the end of it. “You did know what I could do, right? Personally, I kinda want to set some fires.”
“All of them sound too good to waste. But the fire idea, I like that one a lot.” An evil grin spread across the huntress’ lips. Now that she had a partner in crime, things were going to be so much more fun.
Summer’s smile matched Allison’s. “Go big or go home. Let’s burn down the hospital. There’s people you know there, right? I like the way that personal betrayal tastes.”
“One of my favourite books has a fun way of putting it: ‘we are never given to know the count of the living’. It means, you can’t know the good you’ve done. Help is so … subtle. Like dropping a pebble into a pond — you can see the ripples on the surface, but you have no idea what it changes underneath.”
“That’s pretty profound. What book is it? I’d like to read it. —-I hope that’s true.”
Summer laughed a little sheepishly. “I found the book to be pretty profound, but I don’t know how many other people would share that thoughts, since it’s a fantasy novel with a masochist as the heroine. All the same, it gave me a lot of thoughts about love.” She touched Allison’s hand. “Are there specific events you’re hung up on right now, or just this general feeling of helplessness?”