Babble - Beyond Dimensions

Chapter 6: The one where you are the hero

You hadn’t really thought this through, had you? Ducking under another frost blast you quickly made your way over to Cape and Color, while ignoring Cook’s frantic cries, which were probably curses and threats for you to stop and get the ducking hell back into safety. They didn’t really expect you to stay out of this after you had brought the monsters here in the first place, did they?

Arriving at where Cape was defending a downed Color, you quickly evaporated with the help of your patchwork flamethrower the threatening enemy. Gesturing for Cape to grab Color and to get the duck out of there, which he - thanks to whoever was currently out there listening - understood, you three made yourself quickly scarce to where Cook had hidden themselves.

Upon arriving the blonde nearly pounced upon you, sounding very agitated. You waved them off and rather took a look at Color. The kid’s face was pale and their wide blue eyes (blue? When the duck did they get blue? You would have bet everything you have that the last time you had seen the kid that their eyes were green) were unseeing, their whole body was shaking.

It was quite obviously a panic attack and neither Cape nor Cook seemed to know what exactly to do. Taking a deep breath to calm yourself you carefully sat down in the soft snow in front of Color. Cape pulled out red juice in a bottle from who knows where, but you waved him off. Seriously? Even if it was the kid’s panic medicine, did he not realize that the kid should not drink that right now? They could choke, damn it. Actually, chances were higher that the kid would choke before the medicine had the possibility to work. Once they had calmed down a little, you could offer it to them then. Helplessly Cape shrugged at your annoyed expression and placed the juice in your reach width and took a few steps back.

Quickly you gave your hairspray and lighter to Cook, so they may defend your little hiding place before sorting through your scrambled thoughts. Having researched for that topic for a school project a few years ago you knew the basics of how to deal with a panic attack:

Point 1: Stay with the person and keep calm.

Point 2: Offer medicine if the person usually takes it during an attack.

Point 3: Don't make assumptions about what the person needs. Ask.

Point 4: Speak to the person in short, simple sentences. Be predictable. ...

Point 5: Help slow the person's breathing by breathing with him or her or by counting slowly to 10.

Points two to four were pretty difficult thanks to the language barrier right now (plus getting the kid to breathe normally preferably before giving the medicine had priority). So point one and five would have to do.

Facing Color, you started inhaling and exhaling, slowly and loudly, before carefully starting the recommended counting. “One” you said. “Two.” And thus you continued, ignoring everything around you. By hitting ten you repeated, ignoring the horrified calls of Cape and Cook, who were struggling with the still incoming monsters.

Repeating yourself calmly you carefully put your hands on the kid’s shoulder, so they may feel that they’re somewhere (somewhat) safe with someone taking care of them. The kid shuddered beneath your touch; their shivering slightly disrupted through the motion. Thinking quick you put the cloak Cook gave you around them, the frigid air against your bare arms instantly making you regret not having taken a jacket with you that sunny morning that now seemed so far away though it had only been this morning.

But your sacrifice seemed to do wonders, as did your touch and repeated counting, the empty blue was slowly filled with life, and as strangely as it sounds, there was even some red slowly creeping into the kid’s iris. It was, admittingly a bit freaky to watch, but in this strange dream you had long since decided to take everything in stride.

So taking this as a sign that the kid was calming down you continued your counting and watched fascinated as slowly the blue disappeared and red and violet took it’s place. And then, just as sudden as the kid’s eye color had changed, Color started mumbling your numbers with you. They sounded like a toddler who just had all their teeth knocked out of their mouth, but it clearly was an attempt to count with you. “One” you said. “Two, Three, Four, Five” you continued together, the kid’s shaking finally subsiding and their breathing normalizing.

You did it! You managed to calm the kid down with nothing but what google spat first thing at you, congratulations.

“You okay?” you asked and the kid straightened and nodded, now their violet-green eyes were filled with determination, the message of your question translingual.

And that was the moment when your hiding place got overrun with monsters.

And suddenly there was cold, so much cold…

And warmth, warm, fire, hot…HOT!

Opening your eyes, you realized that the little Color had build a firewall around you all, a slight grin on their face, but their reddish green eyes were hard. Cook whooped, pressed your lighter and hairspray back into your hands and grabbed their bow and arrows, lightening one of them on the firewall. Cape readied his sword.

And then all four of you broke through the hordes of snow monsters, fighting and melting whatever was in your way.

Cook melted his Tablet first thing and pulled out a few more weapons, one of them, a short sword, they handed you.

And once you and Color managed to unfreeze the other travelers (who were surprisingly fit and ready for battle for someone who just got shock frosted) the rest of the fight was child’s play.

Your personal highlight was when you decided to say “duck you” to your common sense and used your dream logic to climb on a boulder and jump from there on one of these huge ice monster’s back, after it had been thawed thanks to your hairspray. It was very satisfying to hammer with the sword into it’s back while chanting: “That’s for ruining my day!”

Less cool was when the sword’s blade decided to shatter in your hands, getting its shards all over you on the way. Rude. But being the flexible person you were, you simply turned the broken sword around and used its hilt as a hammer until the monster you still sat on disappeared beneath you in purple smoke.

And then, after everything was said and done and the battle was finally over, your companions started to patch themselves together. You let them and started jogging up and down because the adrenaline in your veins made it currently impossible for you to sit still. Because, what a fight! You never felt as alive! Too bad it was only a dream as the non-present pain on your bloodied, burned, frostbitten arms and hands showed. Meh, didn’t mean you didn’t want to continue dreaming.

Cook meanwhile seemed to have noticed your absence and quickly came over to you, only to start fretting over the wounds you carried. “I’m fine” you said, shrugging.

Cook was definitely not impressed and quickly dragged over the only brunette in the group. Said friend’s eyes seemed to want to pop out of his heat, before he quickly raised his hands and they started to glow and sparkle, while moving over your arms.

Huh, guess that’s what you were going to call him from now on: Sparkle.

And that was the moment when suddenly the pain hit you like a full out freight train as your fried pain receptors came back online and the adrenaline ebbed away.

Pain meant…this was not a dream.

As soon as Sparkle stepped away looking satisfied, Cook stepped forward to force a bottle of red juice down your throat (which tasted like old socks – no you do not want to remember why you knew that it tasted that way). You let them, now utterly numb.

Because, heaven help, you’re ducked.

This is not a dream. You currently are dimensionally - and probably also timely if their weapons and culture are any indication – misplaced.

Which means you’ve now surely missed your important exam, if fate does not have mercy with you and gives you a Narnia exit out of this situation.

Well, duck.