Chapter Text
Gideon came back to an empty home. For approximately three minutes he didn't move. Only listened for movement. A rustle from the sheets moving in the bedroom, or the shower running, the clicks of the gas stove, a voice. All he hears is the rain hitting the window panes. When he finally decides to move, his feet are so heavy it feels like he's wading through mud. His mouth is dry and the only thought he has running through his mind is trampled by a fear that threatens to paralyze him with each step. On the dining table in front of the TV is a white letter neatly folded and waiting for him. Suddenly, only his breathing fills the air. Maybe, he thinks, I'll suck in so much air the house will run out of oxygen and I'll die.
Except that's impossible.
Yesterday he went on a car ride with Caleb's little sister. To cheer her up he decided to take her up a mountain— more a hill, as she described it. "Looking down at people makes you feel better." He said to her before they got into the car.
"Speak for yourself." She yawned when she sat down in the passenger seat.
They didn't talk for the entire ride. Just listened to the radio alternate between bad pop songs and boring advertisements. Occasionally, there would be a song so bad they looked at each other and sang on the top of their lungs over whatever played next. He watched her hum sometimes when a particularly good part came on. The lights pass her face, sharp shadows shrouding her, but he could see her lips vibrating from the sound emanating from her throat. She was beautiful. What a shame he was the one driving— he would've loved to take a picture of her.
"Hey," Gideon shook her when they arrived. She had fallen asleep, and Gideon, struck by love and grief, sat in the car to listen to her shallow breaths for a couple of minutes before finally shaking her awake. He enjoyed the rise and fall of her chest, her resting face, and the way her drool pooled at the edge of her mouth and dripped down her arm. If she wanted him to— and she would never ask him to— he'd lick her saliva off her arm and suck off whatever of it might be left on her lips. Pervert. He admonished himself.
She groaned. Stretching to life after hurriedly wiping off her drool. He was already outside the car, waiting for her. His hair, short from a mandatory trim due to being in the DAA, thrashed wildly with the wind. He had no jacket on, sporting only a t-shirt and a pair sweats that he usually wore to bed. She wore something similar: an old shirt from Caleb's closet and whatever pants she could find that weren't dirty. A part of her lamented opening the car door. It's cold and, despite being twenty-one, she never had to experience extended periods of discomfort. Partly because she was lazy, partly because her brother had always made sure all her needs were met without her asking. If she stepped out, Gideon had no jacket to offer her.
He took out a cigarette. She got out the car. "I was starting to think you'd stay in there forever." Gideon teased.
"It's cold." She sniffled as she shuffled her body next to his.
He wraps his body around her— it makes no difference. He was just as cold as her. She lets him know this. He only shrugs and continues smoking. Her eyes trailed over the blinking lights of the city below them. Her vision was slightly fuzzy from the smoke of the cigarette caught between his pointer and middle finger. Every once in awhile, his arm would interrupt her gaze as he brought the cigarette to his lips. He knew she didn't like smoking. Makes your teeth yellow. She once told him. Gideon never pushed her to smoke. Caleb would kill him, and Gideon loved her smile. He didn't have the heart to tell her that her caffeine addiction already made her teeth yellow.
"Does this really make you feel better?" She asked once she was able to control her body from shivering.
"What? Smoking?" He lets out another puff of smoke.
"No, I mean looking down at people."
"Do you feel better?" He continues staring up at the night sky. A flickering plane passes by.
"Not at all."
He can feel her tears hit his arm that rests above her chest. A month ago he'd panic. Get on his knees, ask her what she wanted him to do to make it stop. Hold her face to try and wipe away every tear before it even leaves her eyes. Now, he knows it's the sound of the passing plane that has caused her to cry. "Wanna get rid of it?" His eyes stay on the plane.
"Get rid of what?" She looks up at him, teary eyed with quivering lips.
"The plane." He grinned at her, cigarette still in his mouth, crunching between this teeth.
"How?" The tears stop running down her face from his stupidity.
"Like this," he brings his hand up and turns them into a pair of scissors. He makes a cutting motion around the plane and pretends to pluck it out of the sky. The plane is still there. "Poof! It's gone." He says like they can't hear the engine rumbling above them.
Through her tears Gideon is all blurry, blending in with the multicolored lights from below. He was like magic, more light than man. If she stayed with him, maybe she'd learn how to smile again. Whether it was from his nonsensical jokes, his lack of oversight, or how fast his heart is beating because he's so nervous that his shitty attempt at cheering her up won't work. If she stayed with him, she could learn to love him. Maybe she already did. Any other girl, with her head screwed on tight, would punch the daylights out of Gideon and tell him the plane didn't go anywhere. That he was a moron and had no power in him that could change the world or her unending grief. Lucky for him, she lost her mind when Caleb left.
So, she laughed. She laughed so hard she shook against his body. Gideon stood there, astounded. Her voice covered the sound of the drifting plane and she inhaled so much of his cigarette's smoke he was terrified that Caleb would somehow come back to life to choke him to death. After a while, he thinks maybe dying here with her wouldn't be so bad. Her hair followed the wind, some strands landed into her mouth. He pushed them away, rough hands on her soft cheeks. What a blessing life is— as long as he could hear her, see her, hold her— loss would be worth fighting through.
"Gideon!" She cried, tripping over his name as she alternated between sobbing and laughing.
"Yes?" His voice a whisper against hers.
"I feel better now!" She put her freezing arms around his neck and shoved her face into his chest.
The howling winds took the cigarette out of his hand. His thick arms tighten around her body. Gideon decides today is the last day he smokes.
When they return home, she's out cold. He picks her up gently and wraps her up in her sheets. Hesitantly, he wonders if he could kiss her on the forehead. Against his better judgment he does— he made her laugh today. This kiss will be his to carry in his heart. Addled with swirling guilt that swelled up like bile up his throat. He stays there, his hot breath mingling with hers. He fixes her hair before pulling away.
He doesn't open the letter. Instead, he walks out into the rain and searches for her. Through the alleyways, in his trash, running into traffic. His body illuminated by street lights for mere seconds before he retreats back into the shadows to find her. He knows she's gone, but he's even more afraid of discovering what may lurk in his home. What that letter might say. He shouldn't have kissed her. He shouldn't have held her. He shouldn't have made her laugh. His shirt was stuck to his body, his hair was completely flat against his head. The rain didn't stop. It continued to relentlessly pelt against him. All of his feelings, contained so deep in his flesh, pressed against his skin begging him to let them out.
There was no longer a point in refusing. However, there was one thing he needed to do before then. He reentered his home after three hours. He'll be sick tomorrow. If there is one. With shaky wet hands, he opens the letter. Some of the ink is smudged, either from his drenched state or from her tears— it's hard to know when his vision is suffering from whatever was welling up inside him.
Gideon, forgive me. I know you and I have the same plight. It's hard to lose someone like Caleb. For a second, I convinced myself I could make it out to the other side as long as you were beside me. I realize now that, I don't know what lies at the other side. My entire life was devoted to him, engulfed by his light. If I stayed with you, if I kept using you to feel better, what kind of life is that?
Please, forget about me. I'm sorry for forcing you to swallow my grief too.
There is a beautiful pond miles out east. In the summer, the lotuses will bloom. Take a girl out there. I'm sure she'll love you for all of eternity.
Gideon runs to the bathroom to puke.
When Gideon opens his eyes he sees a pair of clean business shoes standing in front of him. He cranes his neck up to see a man in sunglasses and a headpiece attached to his ear. What is he, a spy? He jokes to himself, but the weight of what happened before he passed out crushes him instantly. Was he here to collect her body? He doesn't look very medically knowledgeable in his well ironed suit and radio attached at his hip.
"Found a man in the bathroom." He says before Gideon can fully absorb the gravity of the situation.
His partner, wearing the same uniform as him, comes into the bathroom. They stare at him before the man who had just walked in decides to offer some reprieve to Gideon's racing mind. He bends down to show Gideon his ID in his wallet. "We are with the Farspace Fleet. We've come here to collect all items that belong to—"
Gideon rises from the floor, choosing to sit up. Belong to? "She's not dead?" Gideon speaks up.
"Ah," the man realizes his mistake.
His partner attempts to rectify this. "She is none of your concern now."
"No, I really think she is actually." He gets up from the floor and grits his teeth. These spy wannabes were pissing him off. They come into his home, demand for her things, and proceed to toss him in the dark. Gideon is tired, and honestly, more miserable than anything else. The girl of his dreams tells him to forget about her after confessing she might've loved him— the real cherry on top— she goes ahead and tells him about a date spot to go to with another girl. If he was more courageous, he'd fly there to drown himself. Instead, he's standing here, smelling like puke, with a slight fever that was going to get significantly worse in an hour or two.
"Sir," the man attempts to calm Gideon down, but unlucky for them, Gideon was not a rational man.
He grabs the man's collar before dropping to the floor groaning in agony from being tased. "Fuck you!" He's able to yell before getting knocked out.
"Why do you want to become a pilot?" Caleb asked Gideon. They were eating dinner, the chicken was strangely stringy and cold. Unfortunately, they had ended their classes later than everyone else and were forced to eat alone. Well, the truth was Gideon finished the exam last because physics was his worst subject and Caleb was nice enough to wait for him.
"To get girls." Gideon replies relatively quick with his mouth full.
Caleb sighs and stares up at the ceiling. His friend wonders if the lights hurt his eyes, but remains focused on his food.
"What about you?" Gideon throws the question back at Caleb.
"It's a respectable job, and I have to look after my family."
Wow, what an upstanding guy. Gideon observes Caleb carefully in awe. It's only after Gideon finishes his meal does he realize his friend didn't pick up a plate at all. "Aren't you hungry?" He asks wiping his oily fingers on a napkin. If Gideon was alone he'd lick his fingers clean, but being next to Caleb makes him want to be more well-mannered. Maybe it was the older brother effect.
"I can make better food. I was going to try a new recipe anyways. Want to be my guinea pig?" Whenever he talks, he has this dazed expression. His eyes linger somewhere else, never on the person he's talking to. Honestly, it worries Gideon. Although, he can't figure out why. Perhaps, he was worried Caleb would drift off without them. Into that black sky, only to leave behind memories. He was always like that. Flickering in and out, an angel that only appears when it's necessary.
"Hell yeah, dude." Gideon is willing to take any risk. It's why he was ballsy enough to pick being a pilot just to pick up girls. If he had to eat some garbage to get to anything worthwhile— he'd do it in a heartbeat.
"How does apple honey sauce with fried chicken sound?"
"Awesome!"
"You really have room to eat still?" Caleb chuckles while shaking his head. "You'll have to watch your weight. Don't want you getting kicked out of the program now."
"Don't act like you care." Gideon slings his bag over his shoulder, ready to walk out the cafeteria.
The guilty man holds up both his hands, a show of defeat. Instantly, Gideon knew that Caleb had only waited for him so he could feed him whatever he was working on in that moment. Maybe if Gideon was braver, he'd admit he was deeply hurt. He longed for companionship, just as anyone else did, but he understands that what he was dealing with here was a filial son that had no compromising bone in his body.
You're a cruel man. Gideon thinks while watching his blood get drained down the sink. His nose was bleeding after getting punched into unconsciousness by whoever that man was. Farspace Fleet? He remembers their identification. If only he had Caleb's brain— he could maybe crack this mystery by tomorrow. Too bad, he was only Gideon.
The letter was confiscated, all the rooms he was too afraid to open were ajar. Everything she once owned was torn from the home. Well, if she was alive he couldn't be angry. As long as they were returned to her— who was he to deny her from taking back her very own possessions? Of course, he could look past this, but that letter— that damned letter. He could not forgive her for that. You don't tell a man you could've loved him back only to go running. For better or for worse, Gideon is always willing to gamble his life away for love. I'm a romantic! He always said, despite never being able to stay in a long term relationship.
"Girls get boring after awhile." He had told Caleb.
"I think you're just a shitty guy." Caleb grimaced at him.
So, Gideon begins cleaning up. He tidies up the rooms the men ransacked and shaves his stubble. It's time to head back to Skyhaven and find some answers. Bereavement only covered so many days.
She almost had sex with Gideon once. It was after the funeral. They kept the lights off and the curtains closed. She pushed Gideon down with no effort and he fell onto the bed on his back; there, she saw Caleb for a brief second. His body in the coffin surrounded with white flowers— except for the crimson Asiatic lilies she left for him. These men could not be more different from each other, but they shared one characteristic: courage. Courage that allowed them to grow wings and push themselves off the ground.
Courage that killed them and left them flightless.
Gideon looked astonished then. Wide-eyed, watching her. He was wondering how much of herself she'd give to him— if she'd give him anything at all. She found herself wondering this as well. Body acting by itself as she slowly unbuttoned his shirt. When she put her hand on his chest, he flinches. Her hand was cold, and in that instant of touch, he thought of Caleb. He was always distant, eyes matte and unfeeling. Tethered to another world, walking through a dream while his body remained in this life. Perhaps, he had been lifeless since birth. Perhaps, he had somehow passed down this gene to his adopted sister.
They stay like that for a long time, eyes on each other. How fucked up am I? Gideon wants to hurl himself off a roof and die. To take advantage of his dead friend's sister right after they held a funeral for him. Go ahead, he pleads with his eyes to her, punish me. She never does. She retracts her hand and lays down beside him. She was used to being demanding, but she was not used to begging. Without Caleb, she has to beg someone else to give her the things she never even had to ask for.
Gideon turns, following her movement.
The first time they met was an accident. To surprise Caleb she showed up in Skyhaven unannounced, but she had no clue where he was. As if fate pushed them together, a girl out of breath and full of life came to Gideon. Her hair stuck to her cheeks as she tried to gather strength to ask him, what he assumed to be, a critical question. Something struck his mind like a bolt of lightning. This girl is gonna ask me out! He was deeply touched by her act after he convinced himself of this delusion. Waiting for her, confident smile hanging on his face, immediately withered when she asked him:
"Do you happen to know a Caleb Xia?"
"He's not interested in girls." Gideon realizes this might give the girl the wrong idea— she might end up thinking the Caleb Xia was a gay man— but given Caleb's track record Gideon doesn't think he'll mind.
Instead, she seems delighted by his answer. Stars lit up in her eyes and in that split second he laments how every beautiful girl ends up in Caleb's palms. "I'm his sister. I wanted to surprise him."
When Gideon shows with a girl at his side Caleb first frowns, but is quick to change to his demeanor upon realizing she is, indeed, his beloved sister he won't shut up about. Gideon watches the brother and sister reunite, suddenly, he was a shadow. As they clasped hands and hugged, a paradise bloomed in their very steps. The air around them became pure, the scent of foreboding rain. A man like him can only bear to stand at the door. Caleb looked so unlike himself then. Love brought him to life, and selfishly, Gideon wondered if he could covet love like that and blossom into someone just like Caleb.
Except that's impossible.
So, Gideon awkwardly leaves. Unsure where to go. Her glossy eyes stay on his mind, imprinted into his memory. Sky turning vermilion as he heads to the library with his textbooks.
She looks so much like a ghost in his shadow. As he cradles her face, tears staining her cheeks. Soundlessly, she sobs. He's never sure; questions emerging through his muddied mind. Can I touch her? Should I just leave? But then why did she bring me here? Why did she push me down? Yet, Gideon has a feeling she's just as clueless as he is. Both left in the dark after the sun has set. Learning how to care for another, he lifts the blanket up and worriedly blinks at her with an expression looping in limbo between pleading and wanting.
"Do you want to be alone?" He asks her.
She shakes her head, rustling against the pillow that has been drenched by her tears.
"Do you want me to hold you?" His hands already pulling away, instinctively expecting rejection.
She nods.
Why aren't I crying? He wonders to himself as he feels her body tremble as though she was freezing. Missing a piece of herself that kept her functional— kept her alive. Perhaps, she cried for both of them, but he couldn't bring himself to believe this logic. For, in a sick but true sensibility, Gideon felt he had no tears in him.
"You're like a beast." Caleb spits at him after Gideon callously dumped a girl.
"We've only been dating for half a year." Gideon shrugs.
"She loved you."
"That's what she said, but was it true?"
"Does it matter?"
There lies the fundamental difference between them. Caleb could pretend to care. Gideon could not. He knows the dead eyes Caleb wears— he knows they are not a lie. This man was as dull as can be. It was only when she came by— when the sun rises over the ocean— that he set aflame. His soul lacked any sense of humanity, but he played the part well. Whereas, Gideon often failed in that role. Truth to Caleb meant nothing; the truth was something that could be perceived. Truth to Gideon meant everything; the truth was something that stood when the rest of the world could not.
"I'm sorry," she mangles the words as they crawl out of her.
"For what?" Gideon rubs her back, thumb swirling in circles.
She doesn't know how to answer his question.
Caleb's secrets spill out in an unconventional way. When she goes to kill herself she wakes back up. She started first with conventional attempts. Cutting, jumping off of buildings— she didn't want to hang herself. Imagining Gideon walking into a room filled with the scent of her own shit makes her gag. For a second, after she wakes, she feels nothing. After a couple of minutes she learns how to walk. There is no evidence of her attempt, nor does she remember it. Aimlessly, she roams around following the street lights like a flittering moth.
Free.
For that hour she learns running makes her chest hurt and she has to slow down to catch her breath. That the leaves on nicely trimmed bushes taste weird and smooth. That water tastes like nothing, but is delightfully refreshing. That she can't just take things out of those bright places filled with food. When she sets the raw meat back down where it belongs, as the two officers stand behind her to make sure she doesn't continue stealing, she regains it all.
So, she tries more unconventional means. She goes ahead and drowns herself. Waking, drowning, waking, drowning. Why was I born here? She asks herself every time she regains consciousness. For three hours, a new version of her is born and is punished for coming back to life. Absorbed back in, her body a container for some power she doesn't know she possesses. A mistake stored inside something with a brain, the world undoing her over and over and over again. Every life under the waves, the same single thought gurgles upwards towards the lights that grow dimmer the further she falls in: it hurts.
How she ended up strapped to a chair in a steel room is beyond her. Her head, still filled with water, has not yet regained its memories. In this moment, she has no concept of language, speech, or walking. There are noises, lights, and people in white. An hour comes to pass. She begins to understand.
Infinite power. Someone says. The rest of the words are too hard to comprehend. She gives up.
Another hour. A day? How could she tell?
"It's infinite power."
"You can't possibly suggest—"
"Imagine, a paradise!"
"And where would she be?"
"Does that matter? No one will know."
Ah, ah, oh no. Oh no, oh no. Caleb, they're gonna kill me. Are you gonna let them? Why? What do I do? Can I run? But if they kill me and I come back— will I know to keep running? Caleb? Why are you letting them hurt me? Caleb?
She doesn't realize she's screaming. After she comes to wake she pukes out water onto herself.
It hurts. The lights remain as bright as ever.
Gideon puts on his new uniform. I look like I have a stick up my ass. He frowns. Oh, that just made it worse.
"You're joining the fleet? Why?!"
"To pick up chicks."
An obvious lie, but no one says anything. They've seen him stare at Caleb's locker for a little too long. Leave letters in there they never open. Watch him burn those same letters outside on his balcony with his worsening cigarette addiction.
"Do you think Caleb is getting your letters?" A classmate asks him.
Gideon scratches his chin. He thinks about the rising smoke and the scattered stars behind the veil of flying ash that burns so hot it's briefly orange. He thinks about Caleb's expressionless face with a painted smile— about how he becomes a man under the influence of his sister. Do you think a guy like that is in heaven? "He's dead." Is the only answer Gideon can bring himself to voice.
He met the colonel after returning to Skyhaven. "You had a bad run in."
"Who are you?" Gideon cowers.
There a man stood in all black with a coat that reached his ankles. He never turned around to show Gideon his face. He only ever looked at the sky from the balcony.
"Is it nice to have your own room?" He asks.
"Are you the fucking grim reaper?"
"Might be. Depends on how you answer my questions."
Gideon's mind is reeling. It's pretty obvious to him this man was important. Probably affiliated with the fleet. Based off the uniform, he was probably the colonel. His coat swayed with the wind, hands remain coolly folded behind his back.
Fuck me, Gideon immediately surrenders, he's the real deal.
"Let's begin then. Is it nice having your own room?" His voice is angelic, like it was carried by the wind. He was the sound of streaming water, dancing leaves, the hum of electricity. To hear him with perfect precision, you would have to close your eyes and cup your ears.
Lucky for Gideon, ever since Caleb died everything has been silent. "No, not really." He can feel his sweat dripping down his chin.
"Oh, really? Weird. Thought you might've enjoyed it."
"I didn't ask for it."
"I know."
Gideon doesn't think he has swallowed down his saliva since the moment he stepped into the room.
"Are you looking for someone?" The colonel continues his questioning.
"Yes." The pilot in training swallows down his spit with great effort. It feels like sandpaper; every move, every sound, is heightened to the max. In this moment, Gideon is a cat standing on its toes, getting ready to leap.
"Who?" The man makes it sound like there's a choice.
What choice is there? "A girl."
Suddenly, a black jet unveils itself. It readjusts itself to go right under the balcony. Was that jet invisible?! Gideon knew the fleet most likely had advanced technology— this, however, was beyond what Gideon assumed. It was impossibly sleek, matte to blend into the night, and, perhaps the most impressive part, it was completely quiet. There was no roaring engine, no spinning fans, no bursting rockets.
"My ride is here. Congratulations, you pass." Finally, the colonel turns to him, holding down his hat to cover his eyes. Only his smile is visible. "If you don't want to die, pass the flight exam your roommate couldn't. We'll keep in touch." He climbs up the railing and waves before jumping down.
Gideon runs after him, but sees nothing. Heaving against the railing in the cold, Gideon's hands slip against the metal, drenched in sweat. He knows that smile.
He knows now there's a choice.
The next week comes and he passes the exam. He takes separate classes from his classmates, essentially losing all his ties to the normal life he once led. In his nightmares, he sees himself strangling himself through a shallow line of water. He can't tell which one he is, he can't tell if the one in the water is merely a reflection. He wakes, gasping for air. In his dreams, she's there on top of him again. She opens her mouth and he dives into her, taking in everything he can. Muscles tied together, her spit invading his being. She whimpers when he briefly brushes the underside of her breasts with his thumbs. She says nothing in these dreams. He can't tell if she wants this, but he can't stop absorbing her all in. A dream, a dream. He repeats to himself like a mantra. There is nothing she can say that will make him believe this is reality. A dream, a dream. The only place she would open herself to him. He goes ahead and dumps his head in cold water after he wakes.
I keep having the same dream. I wake up in a cave on a beach. Sometimes, I stay in there because I'm too scared of what might be outside. Other nights, I'm able to step out. On those nights the sea is red, but it's so dark out without the Sun it looks black. Sometimes, I wonder if it's blood. On those nights, I stand by the shore wondering if I should kill myself. Other nights, I never have this thought. I simply stroll down the sand, the distance between me and the cave grows until it is the same distance that separates me from the stars.
Do you remember your dreams, Gideon?
Who are they about?
Gideon folds the letter up and lights it with his cigarette on the balcony. Maybe this letter was left in Caleb's locker by an acquaintance to play some sick joke.
The truth, however, lay still in the ocean of stars.
"Do you think we'll become pilots?" Gideon asked Caleb after a particular bad test.
"I know I will." Caleb laughs at him.
"Can you tell me what color this is?" The man in front of her lifts a red piece of paper up.
She lets her head lull over.
"She's a lost cause." Another man declares from the doorway.
"I guess it doesn't matter if she's just going to be used for fuel for the rest of her life." He sighs, they both leave.
How many times has she died? It's hard to piece together broken memories. Even more difficult because they keep killing her before the hour runs up and she's able to regain her senses. On occasion, in her dreams, she remembers how she's revived. The blood creeps back into her and her flesh, as if it were groping in the dark, reattaches itself to her main body. Where does the soul lay? With the brain? Or the largest mass of flesh? If she blew out her brains— would she cease to exist? Or would some unwilling victim be reborn in her wake to know only this life of torture?
If she thinks about it too hard, her body grows hot. Still strapped to the chair, she can only do two things: die and sleep.
There is a man in her dreams. He wears all black and speaks only in whispers. She can never make out what he's saying, can only see his lips move. It's always the same phrase, but she doesn't know how to read lips. They meet at a stream. With his gloved hands he folds her a paper boat. He nods at her, encouraging her to take the boat. She crosses the stream and opens her palms for him to drop the boat down into her hands. When she's close to him, side by side, she can see what's under the hat from below him. It blurs, all she remembers is his smile. Patient. Unwavering.
Memory. Dream. She's not sure. He guides her hands with his to place the boat gently onto the stream. It glitters under the sun. When the boat touches the surface of the water, the light collapses into a line leading the boat down. An eerie feeling overcomes her. The sun shouldn't do that, at least, that's what she thinks. It sets and it rises. What happens if the sun pours all its energy into leading this boat? Will it disappear? Will they all die? She looks over to the man to ask him:
Where is it going?
He says the same thing he always does. The same phrase she can never make out.
When she wakes this time she is in a black suit on top of a roof. A monster— a machine? Grips her face with its metal hands and huffs. It has no eyes, only a giant mouth decorated in sharp teeth with a blood red tongue. Her eyes water from its hot breath. When she blinks, she is watching herself. Everything becomes coated in a red light, sound of scraping metal, scent of singed flesh.
The demon struggles to speak. It gurgles like there is blood stuck at the back of it's throat.
She thinks of the man while watching the scene unfold. His lips moving so quick in repetition that it all becomes the same color.
Can you tell me what color this is? A voice knocks her mind.
Red. She answers as the machine rips out her tongue and eats it.
When she opens her mouth, she finds her own tongue is missing. Blood overflows down to her shoes.
Where is it going?
She steps back, reentering her body to look at the monster that had torn her from herself and ate her flesh. From his black body emerges the brilliant stars. Constellations that told tales of primal fears and love flash by.
Where is it going?
She can no longer speak, the demon cannot answer her.
Can I admit something to you, Caleb? Ever since you died I feel like something is off. Like, this wasn't supposed to happen. Isn't that weird? People die all the time. I think that's why I can't bring myself to cry. My parents died in a car accident. I was the only one who survived. Everyone coddled me. Told me it's normal to feel guilty. The truth is, I can't remember what happened. I can't remember their faces. I can't even remember why we were in the car. Sometimes, I wonder if I died there and then. If I'm just a ghost wandering until my wish is finally granted so I can get dragged up into whatever is out there.
I saw something out there in Deepspace. Did you see it too?
Caleb, where did you go? Just what did you do?
You wake bleary eyed in the car. Gideon is next to you, shaking you awake. Your drool is running down your arm. For a long minute you watch him smoke outside in the wind. He looks tired. Probably because he's been looking after you ever since Caleb decided to kill himself. You step out.
"I was starting to think you'd stay in there forever." He teases.
"What if I did?"
"Guess I can't stop you." He shrugs. "Hey, wanna hear a story?"
You feel you don't have a choice so you nod.
"I brought this girl out on a date. I decided to fly east to a pond I heard about to watch the lotuses bloom with her." He takes in a long inhale. "When I got there, I realized I brought the wrong girl. I prayed to Buddha to undo eternity, but They denied me. Said I was to stay with her even after my bones become dust." He blows the smoke out, away from your face towards the city lights.
"That sucks." You grimace. "How'd you get the girl wrong, anyways?"
"That's the thing! Ever since that day— I can't remember her face! Isn't that crazy? Can you imagine forgetting the face of the girl you're meant to spend all of eternity with?"
A plane rushes through the sky, splitting Earth and heaven.
"Gideon?" You call out to him.
"What?" He howls over the wind and roaring engine.
"Can people usually talk to gods?"
"Do you think I'm lying?"
"Gideon." You say, more brave this time.
"What's up?"
"Where am I?"
"On the boat."
"Where is it going?"
"I'm not really sure. You might have to ask Caleb."
Since you told me a story, I'll tell you one of mine.
A long time ago I met a girl in space. She told me we were Chaos. She cried and said that one day someone would come and try to instill Order. They'd rip away our galaxies with just Their right hand and sweep it all away. I asked her if we were one, why was I separate from her? She laughed and told me that she was lonely. I asked her if there was a way for us to stop Order. She held her finger to her lips and said one day I'll dream of her when I die.
"The stream will collapse into a line and a boat will sail you here, where you belong. When the sky turns yellow two magpies will come into your vision. When they diverge, reach up with your right hand to touch the sky. There you will realize, for your entire life, you have lived under a veil and you will wake up."
I asked her, what if I don't want to wake up?
"It doesn't matter what you want. You and I share the same soul." She told me.
I can't remember her face. I don't know if this is a memory or a dream.
I don't know where I am. I don't know what I saw. Come find me. I might be able to answer you then.
It has come to Gideon's attention that the fleet is as bad as everyone makes it out to be. Partly because everyone looks at him like he's an injured dog when he tells them where he's headed to.
"Do you have no attachment to Earth?"
What a good question. When he can't bring himself to cry, he thinks of Caleb's disgusted face after he breaks up or rejects a girl. Yeah, Gideon carefully cuts through his stubble in front of the mirror with his new gloves on, I guess I have nothing on Earth. He had always imagined his life after the DAA as an instructor with everyone. Teasing friends, eating with them, flying. More than anything he misses flying. It's funny, he'll disappear further into Deepspace than all his previous classmates, yet he has never felt more trapped.
He could've spent the rest of his life with her. Being close, never inside. He would've accepted that fate. Gideon was that kind of man; listening, but never fully understanding, everyone pulls him to their side because they know when they spill the darkest parts of themselves, he'll only raise his brows and laugh. Cruelty was forgivable, he himself was cruel. It was, what Gideon believes, the fundamental truth of the world that no one really enjoyed acknowledging. So, when he saw the girl who demanded love despite its cruelty he became enamored.
She kept coming by to see Caleb. Stayed in his bed while Gideon debated killing himself on the top bunk.
"Are you sure she's your sister?" He pokes Caleb's side while they walked back to the dorm from class.
"I raised her. I'm 100% sure." The DAA heartthrob didn't bother looking at Gideon.
"You're…" Gideon rubs his chin and thinks of another way of forming the statement. You're awfully touchy with her, don't you think? Crude— even for him. There's no one in the world that'll react kindly to being accused of being a massive siscon. He eyes the man next to him.
Caleb is thoughtlessly staring ahead, their steps in sync. The shadows from the buildings cover him every other step, only for him reemerge just as he was. Unbothered and silent.
"You guys are close." Is what Gideon eventually lands on.
"Thanks." Caleb hums.
Gideon sifts through the documents. They suggested a chip implantation for him. He denied instantly. They already have a leash on me— do they really need another one? Yet, does it really matter? In all likelihood, they will forcibly implant it inside his head whether he wants it or not. He assumes because he's not working on anything important now, they can shrug it off like it was optional. He is profoundly aware that— for the fleet— asking was just a case of formality. They did whatever they wanted, he had no power.
"You're really not worried about the DAA possibly having ties with the Farspace Fleet?" He scrolls through his phone looking at the discourse under Caleb's post.
"Should I be?" Caleb goes on piecing together his new mecha model his sister bought for him.
"I guess it doesn't really matter. We're gonna be pilots anyways."
At night he retreats back into his room. It's barren, only furnished with the necessities to make him feel human. He abandoned his home rather quickly, there was nothing there for him. Not anymore. They took everything that provided evidence that she had once stayed with him. He doesn't bother turning on the lights. Why pretend he was a man whilst he was chained to some beast that only seemed to be civil? He can't even watch the sun set. His shift ends far too late, he suspects it will remain this way forever.
When he sits on the couch to watch the night he riffles through memories. Shouldn't I be more mad? He was playing straight into the hands of the fleet. They took her, possibly took Caleb— isn't that horrendous? Isn't that beyond evil? Now, they captured him too. Dangling the prospect of potentially understanding what was happening, where they might have went, as long as he sacrificed his freedom.
"Wanna go out?" She grabs both his hands with a giant grin.
Gideon doesn't know how to answer. He stands there slumped, mouth agape. Go out? Go out on a date?! Suddenly, he's worried if he smells bad. If he brushed his teeth for long enough. Or if his hands are too sweaty— fuck! He should pull them out of hers, he can feel them becoming damp.
She tightens her grip so Gideon can't run away. "Caleb has his secrets, I wanna have my own too."
Am I your secret? He can feel himself crumbling under her touch.
"So, let's go see a band and not tell him." She looks like she already won— like she knew he'd say yes.
He's a little upset. Not because it's not a date, well, he'd be lying if he said that. It's because her victorious smile is completely right. He would say yes no matter what she asked for. Was it because he wanted to get back at Caleb? Was it because he was obsessed with her? Or was it because she just looked so damn happy? He couldn't bear dimming that light. Even if he has to squint while looking at her. Before he can control himself, he begins laughing.
"What's so funny?" She pouts.
"Your secret will be… going out to a concert." He grasps her hands and rubs his thumbs inside her palms.
"Yeah, got any better ideas?"
"Wanna drink too, while we're at it?"
"Oh! Caleb was right! You're a bad man!" She waggles her finger in-between his eyes.
"No, no! Not like that! Wait— what did Caleb say about me?"
She's already dashing into the orange horizon.
"Answer me!"
She never does.
Turns out, Caleb's little sister doesn't drink often. Two beers has her leaning on Gideon's back as he carries her back to the dorm. He knows Caleb is going to kill him when he sees her like this. He turned off his phone precisely because he knew he would be hounding him about her whereabouts. That is until he gets to the dorm and finds it completely empty. Carefully, he sets her down on Caleb's bed and pulls the blankets over her. Gideon never had to look after anyone in his life. His grandparents took him in, but they lived as though he was never there. Breakfast, lunch, and dinner were already set on the table, usually cold. He ate in his room by himself; a dog who drags his prize into a cave to devour it alone, but Gideon was not a dog. He was a boy, and sometimes, he would cry a little, but he never really knew why.
"Caleb?" She turns blinking slowly.
Gideon was crouched down stroking her head, making sure she didn't have a fever.
"Caleb, I went to a concert without you. Now, I have a secret too!" She giggles.
Idiot, Gideon smiles, you're not supposed to tell anybody your secrets. "Yeah? Be sure to keep quiet about it then." He can't help it— pretending that he's Caleb feels good right now.
"Mm… wanna know another secret?" Her smile grows shakily.
He was getting into dangerous territory. Really, he should scold her, tell her to keep it to herself, to not let him know anything. He didn't belong in her world. The terrible thing about shadows, about the silence that falls over the world at night, is that it makes you believe you're safe. Gideon, surrounded by darkness, could excuse this small confession she was about to make. It was only the two of them, if he listened to her now, he would be the only witness. A secret. A real one.
"I love you. Maybe more than a sister should."
The world came crashing down. Literally. Caleb's body fell from the top bunk, slamming into Gideon. Unlucky for Gideon, and luckily for Caleb, the girl has already passed out miraculously. In an instant, Gideon is dragged out of the room by his collar with a bloody nose and Caleb slams his roommate down before crouching on top of him to beat him half to death. Gideon has had his fair share of fights— being an orphan didn't help him climb any social ladder in life— the scene quickly becomes violent as the men grapple each other. Caleb was nearly unscathed, minus the scratch on his cheek. Gideon was worse for wear, blood running down from his nose and busted lip.
They look at each other. Caleb has his fist up, ready to give Gideon another good punch in the face. Gideon, on the other hand, is below him with his hands half up to defend himself. Their breaths were rhythmic. In sync. Caleb gets off of the man who kidnapped his sister for the day. Perhaps it was the other way around. Gideon lay there, too tired to get up.
He wants to say something, anything, but he lay there instead, opening and closing his mouth like a fish out of water while Caleb goes back into the room. The lock clicks. Guess he'll be staying with Patrick for tonight.
Or not. He sits in the garden outside the dorms. It's only a little after midnight— Gideon would never let a girl stay out that late. He procures a pack of cigarettes from inside his jacket and begins smoking. He has never smoked in front of her. She was Caleb's little sister. If she smelled of smoke— she'd be his— and that couldn't be further from the truth.
He exhales. The stars become gray in his fog.
He could tell everyone. Ruin Caleb's life.
The next day comes and Gideon stands in front of the door, waiting for Caleb to eventually open it. When the door finally opens they don't say anything to each other. Gideon is still bloody, as if to say: deep down, we're the same exact person. Caleb had faint circles under his eyes and a band-aid on his cheek. They could not appear more different then. A delinquent versus a proper man who had a family to care for. That purpose separated him from living a life so devoid of the humanity that Gideon craved.
"She's still asleep. Clean yourself up." Caleb finally says.
Gideon passes his roommate to get through the door.
"Change. You stink."
"Fuck you." He changes anyways and throws his clothes in his laundry basket.
They're gone by the time he gets out of the shower.
"I feel like… I have to get out of here at some point." You frown at Gideon who is putting a plastic mecha model together.
"Like, graduate? Yeah, I mean that's how school works." He doesn't bother looking at you.
After the unnerving conversation up on the hill, he drove back home. The two of you went on to treat life as usual. You grabbed something to eat from the fridge, he went back into his room to finish his model. Right now, you were sitting on the floor of his room, leaning on the leg of the desk.
"School? What's today? Don't I have to go…?" Your head hurts from trying to piece together the days.
"You did yesterday. It's the weekend." He hums.
"Oh," you blink. "I guess that makes sense." Does it?
"You've been acting weird. Do you wanna tell your gege something?" He pokes your cheek with the metal tweezers he uses to pick up particularly small pieces.
"My head just feels really fuzzy."
"Did you drink water?"
You were about to answer with a yes, obviously, but it just came to you that you don't think you did. In fact, you can't remember anything before this day. Well, Gideon said you went to school yesterday. Maybe the day was too boring for you to remember anything. That was certainly possible. Yet, when you attempt to grapple your mind and think of the classroom or your friends it all comes blank. Is that normal?
"I'll get you a cup. Just wait here." Gideon gets up from his seat.
When he leaves, you stand up to look at the model he's working on. It looks strangely familiar, lacking any eyes, only wearing a wicked smile that displayed all its shark like teeth. On its stomach was the constellation of Orion. Was it a machine or a monster? You can't tell. Memories spill into your head. A classroom. A teacher. A lecture.
"All machines must run on something." She states to the class.
Everyone looks dazed— looking anywhere else except for the teacher.
"Teacher!" The class clown raises his hand. "What do you run on then?"
Everyone bursts out laughing.
When she opens her mouth to answer blood spurts out of her mouth.
"I guess she runs on blood!" They all cackle.
Is this normal? Do teachers run on blood?
She mouths something to you, but she has no voice. You could never read lips.
"You alright?" Gideon elbows your side. "I know the model is kind of weird, but it's not that shocking right?" He hands you a cup of water.
You look at the glass. The water is clear. "Gideon?" Your voice shakes.
"Yeah?" He decides to set the cup down and reposition himself back to his desk.
"Are you really my brother?" You stare at the constellation of Orion painted onto the demon's stomach.
"Could I be anyone else?"
Gideon, you'll never get to live the life you wanted. You must know that by now. So, why do you insist on inserting yourself everywhere? I'll be honest with you, I don't think I was supposed to die. I don't think I'm really dead. You know when you write in pen and you make a mistake, you use white out to cover up the original marks. Funny thing is, you can still see the indents of what was there before, but no one cares. The fact that someone attempted to cover it up is enough for everyone else. They'll just read whatever is on the page and ignore what is underneath.
I wish you were more like that.
That is to say, I wish you were less like me.
Come on. Didn't you want to find me? What's the point of this dream?
Surrounded by flies, Gideon looks out at the scene. He looks back at the report.
[Suspicious activity reported at Lab Genesis. Report all observations.]
What an awfully short note for such a gruesome place. There is blood nearly everywhere, one might mistake the room for being painted red if the white tile didn't peek out from below. Suspicious activity my ass. This is a crime scene. He pinches his nose from the scent. Rot. It permeated in every corner of the room. The really horrific thing about this place was that there were no bodies. The blood seemingly came from nowhere. He knows he should be more concerned, but in reality he was more angry than anything.
His investigations led him nowhere. He was completely lost. The colonel never reappeared and he was still clueless about where she might be. This is the first real job they give him. It's obvious they're trying to traumatize him, get him so shaken that he'll beg for the chip to be spliced into his brain. His question is: why do they need my permission? Everyone knows the fleet has power. Power that curdled in the sky, threatening to form a storm so terrible that it could destroy the whole world. Just because there's no proof doesn't make it any less true. The feeling was enough to make it true.
This room proves every conspiracy.
The fact they even have labs is pretty telling about their true business.
[Report all observations.]
Fuck, just take a picture then, why don't you? He picks a cigarette out and lights it before stepping into the blood to search for anything useful. A pinky is left behind on one of the dissection tables. Fucking awesome. Gideon uses some metal tweezers to put the finger in a plastic bag.
"I hate this fucking job." He huffs from the side of his mouth.
"You're kind of off-putting." Caleb says to him when they're lying in their beds.
Neither of them could sleep— Gideon was wracking his brain trying to remember concepts for tomorrow's exam. Tomorrow being, in the next five hours. "What is it this time?" He groaned. It's common for Caleb to make his dislike for Gideon well-known. If Gideon was more sensitive, he'd be more inclined to be miserable about it. School, and the fact he's rooming with someone that might be screwing his sister, was enough to make him numb to Caleb's less than polite remarks.
"You're a pretty insensitive guy." The sister-fucking maniac said from below.
"Like you're any better."
"I am."
"Fuck off."
"I have somebody I need to protect. What do you have?"
You're the off-putting one, talking like an anime protagonist. "What is wrong with you, man?" Gideon stares up at the ceiling. In the dark, spots float around in the empty spaces his eyes can't perceive.
"A lot. You might be worse than me. I feel a little relieved, but at the same time you scare me." Caleb sounds as calm as usual. Still waters run deep. They poked fun at the perfect pilot-to-be.
Gideon remembers Caleb's psychological evaluation. "You're not nervous about the exam?"
"Nope. I'll do fine."
"Typical."
"Do me a favor?"
"What."
"Don't touch my sister ever again."
Well, maybe you shouldn't have died. Gideon throws his cigarette on the floor and smashes it with his boot. It's raining and, unfortunately for him, he forgot an umbrella. He watches it pour while he lights another cig. Shit, am I gonna die from lung cancer at this rate? Gideon continues smoking while contemplating his eventual death. Would dying be so bad? The only two people that might've known him inside out are at death's door— at least that's what he presumes. One of them might be fully dead, but the fleet is a unstable place. It reminds you with all its demands, propaganda posters, and stupid titles, that reality is conceptual. This is the reality they made. One where the DAA has no ties to the Farspace Fleet. One where the Farspace Fleet has no ties to EVER.
A drop hits Gideon's hat. As he stares at the sphere at the edge of his hat he sees the world misshapen, bent to the will of this one drop. It never falls.
"You can't tell me who the pinky belongs to." Gideon taps his desk.
"No, sir."
"Right, of course you can't." What did I expect?
A few days ago Gideon heard a sound from the radio. It's been happening more frequently— why his room even has a radio is lost on him. The ancient technology sits at the edge of the table near the doorway. He had never cared to turn on the lights after work, or concerned himself with looking around in the mornings before work. He was a machine, walking out the door, walking back in. A continuous looping of the same steps— he's honestly shocked that he hasn't left a dent in the floor.
The noise is difficult to describe. Voices distorted by space, a language he was not privy to up until this point. An alien. A monster. The speakers bounce with the audio and he has the strangest thought that the dancing black dust cap were lips. This may not be language at all, it may just be movement. A tap on the shoulder, a nod, a punch, a kiss. He has no way of knowing if it intended to kill him or asked him to rise another day.
A sharp pain hits the right side of his head. He needs another smoke.
Tonight he dreams. She stands in front of the rising ocean under a clear night, the moon hanging right above her head. She lifts both her hands and ushers him to walk towards her. I want to show you something. Her smile says. Why is she always here? Why does she linger? Months in and he has nothing, not even a push in the right direction as to how he can even find her. Yet, she lives here, within the crevices of his divided brain. Running through the lines like they're a maze as if she were playing some sort of game.
Didn't you want to find me? What's the point of this dream?
He has no answers. His mind drags his body to her.
A memory. A dream.
She never says anything. Never wants to, he guesses. Just puts his fingers in her mouth and shoves them around carelessly. It's disgusting. It's a sensation he never wants to forget. Closer, deeper. He feels her molars, the patterned roof of her mouth, her uvula— she doesn't gag. He wants to laugh. What a horrifically inhuman response. Even in his dreams she can't ever really be her. Can't ever really talk to him. His imagination can't even conjure up a world where she could love him. All because he knows a tiny secret. He wishes he could make her gag.
She doesn't have a tongue. He realizes. She can't deny him. Can't demand things, can't beg, can't say no. So, why then does he still feel he is bending to her will? What is this pain? What is this pressure?
I feel like I'm being tortured.
It's like she can hear his thoughts. She takes his fingers out of her and pushes his hand onto her breast. There's a faint drumming of a heart. It vibrates like the radio in his apartment. He's going insane! He sincerely, just for a moment, believed that she could be with him as a ghost; possessing things, tailing him like a guardian angel.
Except that's impossible.
Blood covering nearly every surface of the lab. I've collected multiple samples of it from different surfaces.
Entire premise was searched for bodies. None were recovered.
There was a severed pinky found on one of the dissection tables.
[Request for blood sample data: DENIED]
[Request for identification of severed pinky: DENIED]
[Search for Lab Genesis: NO RESULTS]
"Atone for your sins!" She claps her hand together and pretends she's praying.
"I've done no crimes!" Gideon makes a large X with his arms as if he's shielding himself from her holiness.
"For shame! A liar in our paradise!" She points her finger at him accusingly.
The last of the pudding has went missing. Who else to blame but her older brother? The only other person in the house. He admits he doesn't remember eating it, but if she doesn't remember eating it either, then it must be him that takes the blame. They stare at each other— a stand off in front of the fridge. He plays the monster, while she demands from him the truth.
"Where did it go then?" She's playing detective.
"In your…" he wiggles his fingers and comes towards her. "Tummy!" Contact! He tickles her stomach while she bursts out into bubbles of unstoppable laughter.
"Not fair!" She struggles to yell out.
"Why do I have to take the blame for something I don't even remember doing?" It's meant to sound lighthearted, but he feels a weight tug down on his chest.
"That's just what big brothers do!"
"Is that all your gege is to you? A monster who'll gobble up all your lies?"
"And my pudding!"
"I bought that pudding for your information!"
Gideon listens to the radio before going to work— it's incomprehensible. When was the last time he had seen the sun in its whole? He only ever witnesses it peeking out, or descending down below. I feel like I'm just waiting for something. I feel like I'm getting further from the truth. He puts his gloves on before heading out. The door clicks behind him.
Gege is the best in the world
With a gege you have the most valuable treasure
Jump into your gege's heart
And you will find happiness!
The screen goes red when Gideon attempts to log in. Guess I don't have work for the day. He jokes to himself. That is until text appears on the screen. Black letters flying across the screen in complete gibberish until, it begins deleting itself. The writing looks like it's being strangled out, each letter taking several seconds to minutes to be typed out. Eventually, only one sentence sticks to the screen:
[A MEMORY]
An acute pain blooms on the right side of his head. His body is forced to react to the pain instinctually and he groans while cupping his head into his chest. He needs a cigarette.
"Smoking is bad for you, Gideon." Caleb elbows his roommate in the ribs.
Gideon rubs the side Caleb elbowed, feigning hurt. "I'll live." He states casually.
"Not for long."
"Alright, wise guy. You here just to lecture me?"
"How will these plants grow healthy and strong if you keep puffing smoke into their air?" Caleb gestures to the garden full of decaying foliage due to the worsening winter.
"Good point! Should I just blow all the smoke down your throat then?" Gideon laughs, smoke seeping through the cracks between his teeth.
"Don't you find it interesting that tobacco is still so popular?" Quick to change the subject.
"Eh, not really. Everybody has their vices."
"Hmm, I guess that's true," Caleb's eyes dart around. "Aren't vapes more popular these days?"
"Call me old fashioned. I prefer to kill myself in the traditional way."
The older brother only hums in response. When morning arrives Gideon's cigarettes are gone. Asshole, he thought, but at the same time, he was slightly embarrassed. He didn't want to feel as though someone needed to take care of him. He was fine alone, it was his default state.
He buys another pack.
It becomes a game. Can Caleb find Gideon's cigarettes before he fills himself up with so much smoke he floats away? The game ended the night Caleb beat the ever living shit out of Gideon. I win this one. He thinks while holding onto a diminishing cig. The ash falls to the ground. With his boot he pushes the ash into the gaps of the stone flooring. Could the fire pass onto him? If he consumed enough smoke and ash— would he become just that? When the ring of fire reaches the end of the stick of tobacco rolled in paper— will it also set him alight?
He imagines himself burning. Man on fire, walking towards the ever growing sky. Would it douse his body like an ocean? Would he burst unto death, or would he emerge from the black never changing?
Caleb passes through shadows with ease. He carries the same soft smile and glass eyes. Dipping himself into shadow before crossing back into light. A very unnerving fact about Caleb that no one really likes to mention is that his eyes glow in the dark. Reflective like animals— some sort of beast gnawing its way through his perfectly human skin. Gideon has gotten used to it, though he has to steel himself to not have a reaction.
"I have become perfectly enlightened!" You declare to your big brother.
"Yeah?" He chuckles softly while peeling an apple in the sink. The skin strings down in a spiral, descending into the black hole that is the drain.
"I am going to split the world in half!"
Gideon pauses before continuing to peel. "How?"
"Mm… I haven't worked that out." You grumble, shaking your head to try and wake sleeping ideas in your mind.
"Why?"
"So, I don't have to kill anyone."
"Why would you need to kill anyone?"
"They get in the way."
"Of what?"
You touch the right side of your head. There's a hole. Your hand is covered in blood. Of what?
Your teacher decided to meet with you due to your dropping grades.
"You were always such a bright student. What happened?" She pushes the report card towards you.
"Nothing makes sense anymore." You scrunch up your face.
"Anymore? I find you very peculiar, you know? For all the years I've taught you, you had your head screwed on tight. You always gave me the right answers. Now, it's as if someone had just beheaded you and replaced your mind with another. Tell me, do I have the right student in the classroom?"
You have the same dream every night. You wake in a cave. Sometimes, you're too scared to leave. Other times, you're able to walk on the shore just at the edge of the water. If you're brave, and you rarely ever are, you'd dip your toes into the murky waves. That's as far as you'll go. On those nights, when courage finds you as a flightless thing, a man knee deep in the ocean stands there white against the night with his black gloved hands resting on his back. He's a soldier— that much you can tell. It's all so strange, though, what military would give their soldiers a white uniform? It was like they were already grieving their losses.
Every so often, when he has the energy, he'll point to the sky. Your gaze will follow the direction of his finger and up above, you will see a burning man walking across the two of you. These dreams were your favorite. The fire streaked through the stars, lighting everything in its path. This was life waltzing through the world and bringing its blessing. It makes sense then, why life is found in such remote areas, why humans have never been able to contact aliens. It all came from a walking man; things will come to die in the time it takes him to find clear waters to warm.
This, however, was not the reason why these dreams were your favorite. On these nights, only these nights, will the man turn his head to you after you both were graced by life, and you will see his smile, but never his eyes. O holy night, blessings come forth in the shape of comets brushing their burning bodies against your skin. You never burn. You never falter. For there is only one thing you want to find that you never realized was missing.
Where is he going?
The man walks further into the ocean towards the east as the burning man marches to the west. They pass each other and go their separate ways.
"You want to know who the pinky belonged to." An older man greets Gideon in the hall.
"I want to know a lot of things." Gideon is exasperated.
"Would you come with me?"
"Will I finally be told why you guys recruited me in the first place? Or maybe who recruited me?"
"You seem a bit obsessed with the details."
"I think the details are what makes the big picture."
The older man laughs. "I'll show you the big picture then. Tell me if you can make out the details."
Gideon raises a brow. "Lead the way."
They walk in sync, a result of their military training. Black coats swaying under artificial white lights. A rhythm that brings them to a door that Gideon has never seen before, or perhaps failed to notice. Spray painted on the metal door is the number thirteen in red. Whoever did the paint job was likely unskilled— the paint dripped down during the drying process. Unless they just simply didn't care for the ugliness of their work.
Through the door, which opened up with a code that Gideon didn't concern himself with, was another hallway. At the end of the hall was an elevator door. The lights above the hall here flickered. I guess if it's just a straight line, you don't really need to see where you're going. This kind of neglect is a bit abnormal for the fleet, though.
"Just a quick question before you tell me to go down the hall," Gideon lifts up two fingers to signal to the man to hold his tongue.
The man nods, accepting his request.
"Will I die if I go down there?"
"You're still asking about the details, Gideon. It's good they authorized your descent. You're still so naive."
Gideon fixes his hat. Well, fuck it then. He walks down and the door is shut behind him. It clicks.
"I'm sorry." He says to her at the train stop. "This will be the last time I'm allowed to talk to you." His hands are shaky from going cold turkey from smoking.
"Since when did you ever listen to my brother?" She furrows her brows.
"Since now."
They don't say anything. Five minutes until the train arrives. Four. Three.
"That's stupid." Her voice cracks.
She's crying, he knows. For what? He's not really sure. He's not sure if she knows. Why is she acting like they were particularly good friends? Whenever Caleb was involved, she'd lean hard on him as Gideon sat still on the side pretending he can't see anything. Paradise is meant for angels, what's a dog doing hanging around the tree waiting for rotted fruit to drop?
One.
The train comes. She gets on without looking at him, her lips quivering. Just before the train leaves back to Linkon she finally looks up, meeting his eyes through the window at the door. She mouths something he can't make out. He awkwardly waves goodbye, not knowing quite how to react. She just shakes her head and mouths the same phrase. The train pulls her image away and she becomes a frenzy of colors. He never asked her what she said that day. It's probably the only thing he regrets in his empty life.
Time to him only passes with her. After that, the world froze and restarted after Caleb died. Time to her only passes with her brother. After that, time thawed, only to freeze back up after Caleb died.
So, when Gideon descends and finds himself in an unfamiliar home filled with her things he feels his soul shatter. And when he sees her in a flimsy shapeless white dress that stopped at her thighs with her hands up, palms open waiting for his hands, he feels all the blood in his body drain away.
[A MEMORY]
He can't stop his tears, he's gasping for air through his mouth, heaving like a dog. She smiles, victory, it said. She pushes him down into the bed, straddling him. More than anything, Gideon wishes she would speak. Say anything, punish him, spit at him, demand something from him. All she does is kiss his wet cheek and open up his uniform. Before she can peel off all his layers, he sticks his gloved thumb between her lips until they touch her teeth. She opens up her mouth and bites down on his thumb. It barely hurts. When was the last time Gideon has felt hurt? Who was the last person who hurt him?
He widens her mouth and peeks inside. She has no tongue.
A dream, a dream. There is nothing she can say that will make him believe this is reality.
He laughs, he laughs so hard that he begins coughing up blood. He's already dead. He must be. For how long? How much of this happened? How much of it mattered? Did anything matter? Did it mean anything to her? "Would you have sex with me?" He takes his hat off.
She feels his face.
"Really, would you?"
She feels his hardness through his pants. He flinches. It'd be nice, to feel this softness again. It'd be nice, to let her take him like she wants to. For her to open up to him, for him to lean into her like they were lovers.
"Ignore that. Look at me." He holds her face to his. Their breaths danced into each other. He fights the urge to kiss her. "Please, tell me. Would you have sex with me?"
Which part of her exists?
As you sit there in the classroom looking at your teacher. As Gideon drives you home from school. As he tickles you because you refuse to sleep.
Was he just an apparition? The man who smiled at him, the colonel that called him here.
Gideon?
Yes?
Nothing. I just wanted to say your name.
You shake your head as you sob. He almost looks relieved if it were not for the tears that spilled out the edges of his eyes that told you that you had just cut deep into his heart. You disappear. He remains in the bed. Shirt half done, arms propped up to support his upper half from falling down.
Gege is the best in the world
Without your gege, you are a like a blade of grass
Away from your gege's heart
Where will you find happiness?
A long time ago, you and Caleb got lost in a forest. Both of you come across a snake attempting to devour itself. You were horrified, begging him to stop the snake from eating itself to death. He was just as terrified as you were, he was young, older than you, but still a child. He had no idea what to do, but he couldn't let you know that. He could never admit to you that there was so much he didn't know, so much he was afraid of, so much he was incapable of. So, he tells you that there was nothing anybody could do. The snake was so hungry it decided to die. He said it so matter-of-factly your crying ceased into sniffles and you stopped gripping onto the hem of his shirt.
The two of you eventually make it out of the forest and Grandma scolds the two of you for not knowing better. After the two of you sob from being yelled at she sets dinner down at the table and all of you eat in silence.
"I'm your brother." He tells you when he's older, about to leave for college. "I can't give you what you're asking for." His voice is even. He might really be telling the truth.
You're on top of him, tears streaming down your face. He looks up at you with the same smile he has for your entire life. There was a two year difference between you and him, in your delusion, you wonder if you could steal those two years and flip through his memories as though they were a picture book to see if his smile was different before you.
Except that's impossible.
So, you leave his room. He goes to college. The two of you never speak about it.
[You should put the world back together.]
[But I never figured out how to split it in half.]
[There's the sky. There's the ground.]
[And what about the ocean?]
[It's how things used to be. The sky an ocean for stars.]
[Ok, I see. When tomorrow begins I'll put it all back, but the burning man will come back and he will cause the ocean to evaporate. From there, the steam will become sky and the world shall be split once again.]
[So, what's the point of all this?]
Caleb punches Gideon. You wake from the sound and walk out the door in a daze. The two men freeze upon seeing your face, slightly blushed from drinking.
"I—!" Both of them start.
You blink in confusion.
They scramble to their feet and attempt to piece their story together, to justify the violence. The words come out jumbled and they look so silly vying for your righteous love. You laugh, you laugh so hard they stop speaking over each other. They look at each other, lost for words, and they begin laughing too.
Just below them, a heart beats; ushering time to come into the waters to start it all again— it comes with a heavy body filled with bones like a limping dog. She'll be pushed back in when time arrives, but for now, they're all laughing. Just for now. Only in her favorite dreams.