Listen To The Silence by Sheryl

Chapter 5

...Look at the crowd and tell me whether
all are surrounded but none are together
If you're awake, look all around at all of the people.
Still you're so alone. So alone...

He feels the pulse of the music, pounding, driving, as his eyes begin to tear at the unblinking gaze into the light affixed to the ceiling above his head...
Black against the brilliant glow, the small brass nut seems to grow huge, as his perceptions sink below the norm, arms and legs falling limp and heavy, body inert, mind awakened.
He can see it now, that other place, that place where he felt safe, where the world couldn't touch him, he remembers it, remembers the feeling, the bliss, almost sexual in its intensity, when the doorway suddenly opened and let him in, the rush through body and soul of painfully exciting pleasure. Reaching for it now, breathing erratic and rapid, he feels it slipping away, the sound of the music less powerful, more grating as the place spirals away from him. He's tried too hard, gotten too excited, he's sabotaged himself.
Frustrated, he turns over, curling his hands beneath his chin, sighing in annoyance. He'd nearly had it, he'd felt it, it was so close. Why can't he still do it?
He runs a hand lightly over the cool cotton sheets, absently enjoying the softness. Only hotel sheets achieve this, he thinks vaguely, inhaling the faintly bleachy scent. Only hotel sheets are this soft, only hotel rugs are this ugly... he wishes suddenly for home, for the feel of familiar surroundings, his own smells, his own sounds. He hasn't felt like this for so long, everythings been so good. Of course it wouldn't have been if it hadn't been for his friends, for the saviors who are asking for his help now, who are stirring up all the painful ghosts in his head...
"They saved me once, I owe them..." He sighs, turning back to gaze into the light again, switching off the music with the tiny remote near the pillow.
"I owe them my sanity, I owe them my life." He turns again, back on his side, restless, flooded with anxiety, uncomfortable with the too hard bed and the too confusing emotions, replaying the phone call, the conversation this morning, wrenching the stable foundations of his world into rubble.
Jordan wants him, needs him, and how can he say no? He has to go, he loves them so much, how can he let them drown? But how can he help? He doesn't know half what they do, oh yes he's advanced, yes he amazed them, but none of it was anything more than showy games, nothing that can save them. If their great powers won't help them, how can he? And England, how can he go to England? 
He swallows against the sudden burn of acid in his throat, sitting up to sip from the water glass at his bedside. It's all coming back now, all of it, and he's not at all sure he's ready for it. He lies back down, more restless now than before as recall sets in, overwhelming.
One hand slips between his knees, seeking warmth, seeking comfort, the other tangled in his hair, pulling a little, his wont in times of great stress, feeling the adrenaline flow of fear as his mind sinks back, taking him into the world of remembrance, and ultimately re-experience, as the flow of consciousness takes him back to that moment, that one moment that it all crashed down on him, his footing too close to the ledge of breakdown finally slipping, falling...

...thousands are waiting outside, just to walk where you walk,
and the newspapers screaming for words...
...and you'd like to say "leave me alone, would you all get away!"
and you wish you were safely at home...

"God, leave me alone! Just get away!" Thought unspoken, silently screamed as shrieks rang in his head, hands grabbing.
"Why are they doing this, I can't take it anymore!!"
False smile, eyes sparkling with tears, mistaken for excitement.
Wave, touch, "Stop touching me!" sign, smile... too much. All too much. Nausea licking his throat. "Have to get out, I have to get out, I'm gonna be sick..."
Turning, solid wall of people, smiling, gesturing him to stay.
"No..." Now he spoke, urgency overriding protocol. "I have to get out, I'm gonna be sick, let me out!"
Bodies stepping aside, hands behind him, blocking the crowd, helping him.
"Just get me out, get me out of here!"
Back to his mind again, any extra word a threat. Out of the crowd, out of the room, out of the heat, barely in time.
Arms around him then, soft, familiar scent, holding him up, holding his hair back. If it would just stop. Horrible spinning, burning in his throat, he couldn't catch his breath! Why again! Why?!
"I can't take it..." His unvoiced thought echoed, echoed... Struggle to clear his mouth and catch his breath, soft words from his mother unheard.
"Oh God, that was bad... that was so bad. I can't survive this every night, I can't..." Echo, echo of thought, cycling endlessly as always. "I can't stand it, I can't stand it..." Circling... and suddenly... picked up. Breath caught in his throat.
"What is that???" Frozen, senses thrown inward. "What was that?!" Shrugging off his mother's arms, stumbling to sit down. Mental click, receiver picked up, radio tuned in. "What is that???"
"Take a breath, baby, and relax"
Words in his mind, less words, more feeling, soft, soothing, warm oil poured over frozen soul.
Again, mental click, feeling of touch, in his mind, in his soul, and then... joining. Locking. Merging together... LINKING!!
Half a mind suddenly whole, despair replaced with joy.
"There are people out here!!" Scent of laughter, apple flavored, in his mind.
"Yes baby, there are. Soft now, sweetheart, soft. Relax..."
Warm sleepiness now, nausea receding as tension drained out of him.
"Who are you? Are you real? " Recognition suddenly. "It's you, it's you! You're finally here!! Oh it's you, and it's me!! Am I crazy?" Again, apple flavored laughter.
"No sweetheart, no. No you're not. You'll learn. You'll learn it all. You'll remember. But now love... rest."
Mental touch disengaging, drawing away.
"NO! No don't let me go! Don't let me go...."
Panic starting, softly smoothed, warm oil again.
"No, no baby, no, I love you. I'm not leaving. I won't let go, not until you don't need me anymore. I'm here. You sleep. You sleep now."
Flex, mental elbow bending, mind accepting mind, and sleep eased in. He never felt himself carried out to the car, and gently laid down. Blue eyes flickered open as hands removed his clothes. Smile, breathtaking in its sweetness.
"I love you."
His mother's voice, soft, gentle.
"I love you too, baby. Go back to sleep now."
Tension drained from his face, as weeks old lines of exhaustion disappeared, and relaxation set in, the touch in his mind gently holding fear at bay.
Safe, warm, finally, he slept. Sleep, peaceful and deep for the first time in months.

Cara sat, staring into her teacup, steam whisping toward the ceiling, small smile on her face. Finally. Months of stress, fear, panic, illness, as his mind collapsed under the pressure of no sleep, no safety, no time line, grabbing hands and screaming voices, missing friends and overworked family. Familiarity torn from him, security, that one great touchstone, suddenly nonexistent. Expectations piling up, protocol insisted upon. Lies, hidden truths, loves and passions pushed away in the name of an image.
While his body succumbed to the stresses, weight dropping, eyes dulling, teeth corroded under the onslaught of constant vomiting, skin burned and irritated, insomnia, nightmares, pain, sapping his strength, killing him by inches.
Months of pushing to go on, struggling to be happy, scared to death and wanting to die, while his soul screamed for help, defeated by the power of a psychic mind so strong it was frightening, his own mind resisting itself, hiding in logic, pushing away the help that was offered.
Finally. Finally, the last wall of logic, ripped down by instinct, the final distress that was too much to bear alone... pulling her in, finally.
The fingers of their minds, known to each other for lifetimes, entwining, breath of relief as her soul recognized his.
"It's you, it's you, you're here..."
Tears in her eyes, tears of joy as a long lost one found his way home. Easy reach with her mind, that soothing touch on his soul, keeping him at peace. He'd be alright now. And so would she.
Smiling softly, she watched the steam, sat back, the constant back and forth checking down at the link, to where he slept, starting a mild headache. That would pass, in time, she knew. For now, she would take the pain. He was there, he was finally no longer alone, and he was safe.
Sighing, knowing she had to sleep, had to rest to hold the link, until he learned to carry his end, she pushed her chair out, soul singing, and found her way to her bed.

Moonlight shone in the window of a luxury hotel, plush appointments, soft beds, lighting on the sleeping face of a blond angel. Peace reflected from that face, peace and the love of centuries.

The same moonlight through the window of curtainless tenement flat, shining onto the nest of blankets and pillows that took the place of a bed, onto a face small and dark, a smile of unerring sweetness shining on that face.

The reforged link of lifetimes now intact, the two slept, their souls at peace.

...I only know that I believe what I see... and you?
Do you see what I see?

He sighs, blinking back the tears of memory. The worst pain of his life finally ended by the very souls now asking for his help, breaking the promise they've made him, the promise of release and of solitude, needing him. As he once needed them and didn't realize, as they once came to the rescue of a boy none of them had ever known, hearing his cries of pain and fear and answering him, selflessly, patiently, teaching him who he was and what he could do, showing him how to survive, how to be happy again, how to BE.
The hand in his hair relaxes as the strain of indecision lets him go, his mind and soul once again at peace, as he realizes his decision is made, just before sleep steals in over him softly clouding thought.
His body relaxes, breathing deep and heavy, as the elusive door opens before him, the power once again at his disposal, his reluctant mind now dropping the involuntary shields that had hindered him, for now and for always. Quickly, surely, firm in it's purpose, fearless, his own mind passes through, touching softly on the somnolent mind of his teacher.
"Jordy..." His mind's voice is soft, insistant, tapping gently. "Jordy..."

The TV sends its raucous cacophony into the night as Jordan's eyes snap open, a shout of triumph on his lips, one hand reaching to snap off the offending machine, as he leaps to his feet, relief and joy crowding each other for space. The boy is no savior, he knows this, reigning in his unchecked glee even as it bubbles over, with stern words of wisdom. No savior, but such a help he will be, oh yes...
Still grinning, he reaches for the phone, debating, unsure who he wants to tell. Grin widening he hangs up the phone, settling himself cross-legged on the floor, head back to catch the nightbreeze blowing across his hair. One breath, two, and he's open, three and the message is readied, four and it is sent, simultaneously awakening, shocking, and amusing as the joyful mental shout rings in their heads.
The boy is coming, their circle once again complete.

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