Meliora - Emanate - 47

[lady_mab]

No Kaito

Lionel has his hands shoved into his pockets as he descends the stairs towards me. I can't read his expression. Compared to Liala's breakdown, this seems unusually placid.

"Rhys took Lia on ahead," I say when he's within earshot.

He nods numbly in response.

"The others...?"

His first attempt at speaking is cut off with a croak, unable to form the words he wants to use. "They're staying back. To wait and... stuff."

I push myself upright and wave him over.

Lio shuffles closer, and I drape my arm over his shoulder to pull him in against me. "Let's get you back to Rhys'."

"Yeah..." His voice is soft and barely audible as the bus rumbles up to the stop.

The trip to Rhys' apartment is tense. There's only two other people on the bus, though they get a few stops later near a bar. It's still a Saturday night.

Rhys called me while I was at work and told me what had happened. The group chat I have with a few of the Informants remained oddly silent, and I didn't know how to bring up the topic.

Glen's number is still among the group contacts.

We disembark several stops later, making the walk through the biting night in silence. It's only March, but the spring chill is going strong and doesn't promise to let up anytime soon.

I let us in to Rhys' building with my spare key and up the two floors to his apartment. Inside, Liala is bundled up on the couch in a large blanket with a mug of tea clenched between her fingers. She sniffles, nose and eyes red from the tears, but has calmed down.

As soon as she spots her twin, she sets aside the mug and struggles to untangle herself.

Lionel seems to get the same idea, crossing the room in a few quick strides to pull her into a hug. Legs trembling, the two of them tumble back onto the couch.

Rhys appears from his room, carrying another blanket in his arms. He looks slightly windswept, eyes wide with surprise as he spots me. Then his attention shifts to his siblings, and he drapes the blanket around both of them.

I remain standing awkwardly on the other side of the room, uncertain how to intrude into their space. The hesitation doesn't last long before Rhys takes a spot on the couch alongside the twins and motions me over.

My feet obey the gesture without pause, carrying me across the carpeted space. I reach for his hand. His fingers, warm and reassuring, wrap around mine and tug me down alongside him.

The four of us tangle together, the silence punctuated by Lia's quiet hiccups and Lio's sniffles. It's a long time before anyone speaks, and Lia's the first to break the silence.

"I'm scared," she says, the words muffled from the depths of her blanket and her brothers' embraces.

"Me too," Rhys echoes, voice barely above a whisper, but I can still feel the way it rumbles through his chest as I lean against him. His hand still maintains its grip on mine, and the force only increases in an attempt to stop shaking. "What do you want to do?"

It's a strange question, I think. Does he think we'll just want to give up now, knowing what we know? They will stay here in Eminence, pretending that nothing is wrong and they didn't have the chance to leave ripped out from underneath them.

Lio sits up, glancing between his siblings before looking up at me. "I want to see this through to the end." His gaze wavers before dropping to his lap. "I think... given time... if we stay here, we'll forget about what happens. I don't want that."

The drug that we are injected with seems to enhance our memory, if not outright have it altered by ALICE. Who knows what else might be included with the solution that Zakariah couldn't pick out.

Rhys looks at me as I pull away. There's a question in his gaze that I'm not too sure I want him to ask. I don't know how I'm feeling. I don't know how I would answer.

Luckily, he lets my silence pass without saying anything. "We won't stay. We've come this far."

The twins nod, and that seems to be the end of it. The decision is made.

Rhys uses me to push himself to his feet. "You two should go to bed. It's been a long night. We can talk more about it in the morning."

They nod again and clamber to their feet. Both are dazed and bleary eyed. Lio and Lia leave the room under Rhys' watchful eye, heading back towards his room where they normally sleep when they stay over.

Unable to stay sitting still any longer, I gather up the mug from the table. It’s still warm and half-filled with tea.

The couch creaks as Rhys drops back down, and I can barely hear his weary sigh over the bedroom door clicking shut. "Kaito," he says, tired and uncertain.

I don't reply, washing the dishes in the sink with an energy that I didn't think I had. Then I move back towards the living room, tugging free the blanket that Lia had abandoned to fold and drape it over the back of a couch.

"Kaito," Rhys tries again, and this time he grabs onto my wrist to hold me in place. "Stop, please."

I want to tell him that he has stopped me, or that I don't want to stop because if I do then I'll start thinking about what just happened. Instead, no sound leaves me, and he gives another weak tug.

"Sit down."

I do, suddenly unable to hold myself up -- knocking into him as I practically collapse onto the cushions.

He doesn't move except to pull off his glasses and scrub his face with his free hand. His other shifts from my wrist, and I reach for it before it can draw too far away. "What am I supposed to do?" he mutters, though I'm not too sure if it's aimed at me. "I don't know how I can keep them safe anymore."

We can't trust the hospital or its employees. Not everyone in the hospital is involved in the game, but that doesn't make it better. We can't trust ALICE, who runs the game, the hospital, the city.

Rhys shifts his head, looking up at me as I continue to remain quiet. His gaze holds mine, looking for something in it. To reassure himself, to answer the question he hasn't yet asked. My thoughts are racing too fast to form any sort of coherent response.

I'm unable to turn away, letting myself get scrutinized and picked apart. His hand in mine grounds me, pulls me back to him when I start to drift away. "You’ll leave when the game is over," I say without preamble. It's the first thought that manages to tear itself from the swirling pack in my head and tumble free.

"Yes, I suppose we will. If they haven't lied about that."

To be honest, I hadn't considered that aspect. The game has spiraled out of control to the point where no one knows what will or won't happen.

"They won't have a reason to keep administering the shots anymore for those of us participating. Whatever effect they've been having will fade."

Rhys pauses before realization dawns in his expression. He sits up, finally releasing me from his attention as he stares at the coffee table. "You'll forget."

I hate that he puts my fear into words so succinctly. It doesn't make it any easier to hear it vocalized, but at least it doesn't make it any worse. "I don't know what it is about Eminence that is making people forget. Like what Ayn was talking about. It will be like... you were never here. I already figured that I’d be assigned another accountant when you leave, because I just sort of guessed that they would gloss over the reason for you leaving. It never occurred to me that I would forget too."

His face pales and he looks like he's about to be sick. I feel the same way. "I don't--" His voice croaks and falls short. He tries twice more but is unable to form the words that he wants to say.

It's fine. I understand anyway. "I don't want to forget," I say because he can't.

His grip tightens again, to the point where it feels like he's about to cut off the circulation to my fingers. I start to return the gesture, but he pulls away before I can keep his hand in mine. Rhys doubles over, hands lacing together over the back of his neck.

A wheezing breath echoes in time with his shoulders trembling. Too late I realize the symptoms of his panic attack as he struggles to breathe. Each inhalation does little to pull the oxygen into his lungs.

He tries to speak, but it comes out as a strained noise. The shaking moves throughout his limbs -- hands and legs trembling as he shrinks in on himself.

I reach out before he can completely collapse. I run a hand through his hair and pull one hand free of its death grip on his neck before his nails start to dig into skin. "Rhys, breathe. Just breathe in with me, okay?"

His nod is almost lost in his trembling, but his second attempt is more visible.

I count for the breath in, and again for his exhale. It takes several attempts before he can draw a full breath, and several more before he finally starts to relax.

The tension eases from his shoulders, his hands fall limp in his lap. I pull him in against me, resting my cheek against the top of his head while listening to his breathing steady degree by slow degree.

We sit that way for several minutes. He lifts a hand, rubs at his face, and when it falls, it lands in the space where our legs are pressed together.

Rhys breaks the silence with a wavering, faint voice. "I don't know what I'm supposed to do. I don't know if I'm doing the right thing."

Every inch of me is tired and my heart hurts. I know it must be worse for him, for the twins. "I shouldn't have brought that up."

He shakes his head, but I can't see the expression on his face. Just as well. I don't think I want to know. He shifts, and his chest expands as he takes a breath to speak. In the end, he keeps the thought to himself.

Neither of us move from that position. And while I don't know what is going through his mind, a part of me is afraid that if I let go now, then he will slip away from me faster either of us will be able to handle.