a thousand instincts (#1)

Memory Problems (17)

     "Do you always make jokes when you're scared?" 

     Aeress swallowed. "Scared, happy, nervous, who knows?" With that, she let go of his hand and descended down the stairs, without looking back, because she would be tempted to throw herself in his arms and beg him to take her home. 

     But she did look up at the guides which watched her every move. Did they judge the way she walked? Her weight? Her age? Perhaps the way her bangs were too long to be considered bangs?

     Once she got off the last step, the stairs pulled backward, into the walls where they disappeared. The exit no longer existed. She was stuck. 

      She walked to the middle because there were no corners to huddle in. Aeress did a little twirl, assessing all her options which amounted to nothing. Her stomach plummeted as a piece of the floor began to lift, revealing a glass box being propped up by a column. 

     "Calm down." She looked up. Warrick was so far away, but she nodded anyway. How did he know she was losing her shit?

     There was a silence as she awaited instruction until she understood this was her test. Or quiz. Her reaction to whatever was in the box was what they wanted to observe. 

     Inch by inch, she crept toward the box. The miniscule grains of sand crunched under her sandals here and there. 

     She refused to look up. 

     Finally she indentified the object. Or at least its shape. A treasure chest? It was rusted, flecking off slowly but surely. It had a green tint, fading against time. 

     She leaned forward, not understanding why she was, only that something was suggesting strongly she do so. 

     "Wait, no!" 

     But it was already too late as a certain scent entered her nose, taking her out of her body and into another time in the universe. 

      The visions and sensations slammed into her with the force of a freight train. She crumbled under the pressure of such agony without any fight or struggle, feeling the stone surface of the ground. 

     The laughter of a beautiful baby girl. A beautiful dark brown complexion with a crown of curly locks for such a lovely child. The love Aeress had for her was limitless, boundless when compared to the universe. It was a pure kind of love that one only hoped to ever feel for if only a moment.  

     But she was ripped away violently. Covered in blood instead of kisses. Her innocent beauty and good heart were butchered, leaving behind an empty shell of death. Her laughter fell away with her. Aeress wailed, clutching her chest as a hole was ripped through it. She was hollow just as her child was. How could this happen? How could it be true? It couldn't be!

     "No! Give her back!" she screamed, even as the loss consumed her, soaking into her skin and burning through it as acid would. "No! No! No!" she roared, unable to take a pain so magnificant, so amazing in size. 

     She saw those beautiful brown eyes and her tears sprung out, drenching her and her soul, searing it relentlessly. Aeress cried, beaten down within an inch of her life. But she would never die. She couldn't. The child was gone forever, never to be held or loved or nutured. 

     It was too much. Too much for even a god to comprehend, to ever in a million years recover from. To lose a child was enough to destroy the world. The world could not be saved, not after this. 

      Finally then blackness sieged her thoughts. 

______________________________________

       Aeress had never been so emotionally drained before in her life. There was an echo of pain in her mind, in her soul, bringing upon a sting she couldn't quite treat. 

     She was huddled in a corner-having just taken a scolding hot bath-wrapped in several thick blankets. But there was not enough warmth at that moment to chase away the chill in her bones. 

     She rubbed at her eyes every once in a while, failing to erase the vision which still plagued her. 

     Warrick was not there like he said he would be. It was an older lady by her bedside who helped her cleanup and into her current position. 

     Whatever was in that chest had awakened a grief that was not Aeress's own, yet it affected her all the same. She thought of the blue skinned creature's who had possessed her body and couldn't imagine her being a in a mother-like position. 

     She decided that the guides were not on her side. They weren't good people. This little test nearly drove her to suicide. She could still feel the burn of the slices around her wrist areas. She didn't remember doing it, but the elder lady explained that Aeress had lost her mind and wasn't herself. 

     The door opened silently. Was it a ghost? 

     In walked her worst nightmare and best dream: Warrick. 

     He looked disheveled for the first time since she'd met him with an unbuttoned collar and wind-swept hair. His pale skin was flushed with fury, and his eyes were brimming with disgust, up until he located her. 

     She didn't bother to keep her head up. She burried her head into her knees and sighed, swallowing past the lump in her throat and fighting back the tears. 

      Whether or not she desired his presence was nearly impossible to decide. In many ways she wanted to tear his guts out, and in others, she wanted his arms around her, keeping her safe and warm like she knew he could. 

    A weight settled next to her on the floor. He was reluctant to touch her, but he was there. 

      "You broke your promise," Aeress croaked out, voice muffled. 

      "I did."

    She sighed with a great deal of exhaustion. "Why?" 

      "I had to be there for you in a different way, Aeress... Just not physically." 

     "Please tell me it has to do with the murder of four guides." 

     His arm came around her slouched shoulders. A sensation of relief flushed throughout her body by just being near him. She sighed when the chill finally began to fade, even as it felt like centimeter by centimeter. "Not exactly. Do not worry yourself. I took care of it." 

    She used her blankets to wipe her tears before gazing up at him. "Okay, that makes me feel a little better." His beautfully concerned eyes were crinkled by stress, though this was not a new brooding expression she hadn't seen before. 

     His hand curled around her arm and he scooted closer. "How do you feel? If you feel unwell, you need to tell me." 

     Aeress laughed at how motherly this ferocious beast could be. "I feel like shit. I am confused, angry, and terrified. That is not exactly healthy in any way for a person's mind. This is probably more than anyone can handle, but for some reason I act like I can, even though I obviously can't but there is not one single thing I can do about so I just have to roll with it, like anyone can roll with it! But I'm sure that is not what you were referring to. Besides the cuts and scratches and the exhaustion, I feel fan-fucking-tastic."

     He did one of those pauses he always had when he was thinking of a response. In that way, he was unlike many others. Most would blurt out an impulsive response, but not Warrick. No, he was calculated as always. "Then don't handle it."

    His other hand came around and she didn't understand his intent until she felt her strands being softly petted. Over and over he gently ran his fingers onto her hair. She melted into him, just sitting there and not overthinking everything for once. 

      She smiled at him, even while her heart was still delicate because how could she not? "Alright, Warrick."