Shawn paced and circled, a snarl on his face as Anisa sorted through the cabin. As she touched the surgical equipment she touched one of the forceps and felt a flash of memory. Of Sienna pulling the suture needle through a deep sword gash along Shawn’s forearm… but not pain… not physical pain anyway. She felt the ache in her chest once more only to barely duck below a leaping tackle. Wrapping her arm under his, she drove her hip into his gut before shifting her weight and tossing him through the front door of the cabin. As she did so, she heard an echo in the room. Sienna sobbing… and Shawn laughing in that disarming way that worked on everyone else.

  As he charged back in, throwing the now unmoored door at her, she could hear the phantom of his words on the wind, ‘Now now… the last thing he would want is for you to cry.’ She couldn’t dodge the door, but she had another idea. Leaping up and planting both feet on the door as it came towards her, she kicked with all the force she could like a drop kick. Much to her joy, this tilted the door and gave her enough of an angle to collide with the couch instead of flying into a wall. As she rolled out of the way, she could see tears in his eyes as he punched a hole clean through the seat of one portion. ‘You can’t change what was. All we can do is make the best use of today so that tomorrow isn’t a repeat of yesterday.’ She quickly left off the edge of the couch and ran towards the doorway her throw had opened up. She expected him to struggle with the couch for a moment but as she cleared the doorway she heard it splinter against the walls behind her. She caught only the tail end of the words in that memory, ‘We both lost family, but that just makes what we have left…’

  As his words trailed off, she couldn’t help herself, “Really?! You can’t hear yourself? Cheesy as that sounds it was actually-”

  Shawn chased her, his eyes distant and tuned out. Or rather, she could tell he was actively trying to ignore it. Actively pushing the memories out. Despite that, she looked around the newest scenery change and began to see a pattern. Another regret. At least to him. More likely it was another memory of him being there for them in their lowest moment and telling them something he feels was a lie or something stupid like that. It looked like a martial arts dojo that had been burned to the ground, the smell of ashes thick in the air.

  His stance was closer to what she had seen him use in the past, arms low as though he was at ease, his balance shifted back to give the initial impression of ease, but a closer inspection showing his legs flexed and his weight resting on the balls of his feet. A veteran street tough waiting for any opening he could get. But the conflict was clear in his eyes. He was trying so hard to keep these memories away from her but without the pain they gave him, he couldn’t muster any power for his blows.

  She chuckled, “Alright, so what sorry soul did you find here? What part of your grief did you hand to them so they knew you cared?” Silent. Not a chuckle. Not a laugh. Not even an angry deflection. Just the cold distance of a man trying to remove an intruder in the most holy parts of his mind. She sighed, “Stop doing this. Stop trying to protect me from things that aren’t even that weird for us…” As she said it out loud, it felt weird on her tongue. As if her words didn’t ring true even to her. As he grabbed a piece of burnt equipment and threw it at her with a casual flick before trying to charge into the ‘gap’ he thought he could see in the moment she deflected it. Stepping into his movement and sweeping his leg forward before slamming him to his back, she leapt forward to get away from the wild kick that was sure to follow. He leapt to his feet with practiced ease and tried again to keep that cold and detached look.

  It was as she saw the haunted look of a dead man walking that she began to understand the ground on which she tread. A dream so precious and so passing for people like them.

  “It isn’t is it…” Despite the danger she knew she was in, she found herself relaxing, “This isn’t what normal is for people like you and me.” She walked up into his face and spoke firmly, “But it is for them, Shawn. And if you take it from them, you aren’t helping. Not them. Not yourself. Not the cosmos.”

  As she stepped past him and started fiddling with the next door on her own. His face twitched with annoyance as he growled, “Even when you get it you don’t understand!” His concentration slipped and his eyes grew dark at hearing his next words echo off the burned walls.

  A figure of a boy not much older than Shawn had been when he started his crusade. The figure of a broken and grieving Shawn appeared with him as he spoke, ‘I get it… you feel like you don’t have anyone… but for now you have me. And that should be enough. What’s your name, kid?’

  This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

  ‘Douglas.’

  Shawn could feel tears forming in the corner of his eyes even as he felt bile forming in his gut. ‘Good to meet you. Name’s Shawn. Now tell me, who did this to your family….’

  Anisa froze in her efforts before she turned and looked at the frozen scene, the details clicking into place. She mused, “Cyrus told me that you found Doug right after you kicked off the Falos War… the war you started by pasting an evil emperor against a wall after being forced to kill me.”

  Shawn was a statue. His eyes cold and his expression dour. No move to attack. It was obvious from his face that he refused to take another step. He knew there was no going back to the rooftop… that the more he tried to force her to let go the deeper she dug. And so he stood there in this memory, staring at the phantoms.

  And Anisa let him.

  Leaving the next closed door alone for the moment, she simply sat with him, her eyes straying to the open sky above them and seeing that many of the stars had faded once more from the sky. She didn’t draw his attention to it. Didn’t push him out of this stasis. After a time she said with a grim chuckle, “He is quite the badass now. That trick where he literally cleaved space to try and stop you. The galaxy thing... Guy even runs the space cops using pen and paper without letting anyone get lazy or selfish. Doesn’t even enforce a dress code.”

  Shawn said in a cold monotone, “Won’t be long before he gets the Panopticon back up and running... giving the mentally unwell the help they need before he sends them back into the world. Letting them all see each other so they all know they aren’t doing it alone…” He sighed and held his head, “This stupid shit that we put ourselves through so that others don’t have to suffer like we did.”

  Anisa laughed at him, which drew a wry smile from her tired friend. “Don’t lie to yourself, Hemmingway. You love it. What you have now is more than you ever thought you would have and so you keep investing your pain. Making promises like planting seeds. A regular farmer.” He put his hands in his pockets and allowed his muscles to relax for the first time in ages beyond count. Falling backwards and staring at the sky, she looked up at the sky with him. She said softly, “You did good while I was gone.”

  He said with a voice worn and exhausted, “I.… It wasn’t intentional…” He stared into the open sky as the terrain melted away, the two of them sitting atop a lake that shone gold in the light of the rising sun. “There was never really a chance, was there?”

  “Of course, moron.”

  His voice was playful but not sparing in it’s annoyance. Anisa blinked and turned to face Cyrus, in this light looking like Shawn’s younger brother coming to drag him home. Shawn reached over to his arm, the golden suture needle buried in its meat before he stood up. He laughed playfully and jokingly to his twin, “I’m a pretty big fish. I could have snapped the line any time I chose.”

  Anisa watched as Cyrus shook his head coldly, “You can’t. Because you don’t get to decide who believes in you. Least of all when you spent your entire life telling people that they don’t get to just walk out on themselves.” Cyrus looked at his hand and clenched it into a fist. “Not if you didn’t get to.”

  When Cyrus ran to take a swing, Anisa’s response was swift, a missile dropkick to the side of his head… knocking in a door that had been invisible in the open air… opening to a dark space that Anisa knew all too well. The shitty fake wood paneling on the walls instead of wall paper. The carpet that had been installed before even their parents had been born but had never been changed. The counters made of pressboard and laminate. She looked to Shawn and said softly, “You… don’t have to. We could just leave.”

  Shawn looked at Cyrus as the man slowly stood and Shawn shook his head. “Nah… I think I have to. Have been going down the street instead of living in my own home for a very long time. My brother and I need to work out some aggression.” He offered the fishing line to Anisa and said softly, “Tell Sienna I’ll be right out.” As the line rested in Anisa’s hand she saw Shawn march into the old apartment and shout, “I was having a quiet moment to myself, asshat! Next time, mind your business!”

  The door slammed shut… the seam fading into the sea of consciousness that was around her as she held the lifeline for her return. Instead, she took a deep breath and sat atop the sea as she watched the sunrise for the first time in a long time.

  The long night was finally over.