Tyme

VI

“Yes, Pan, darling?”

“Unless you wan’ ta be killed, I woul’ suggest not messing wi' her. She’s a bit… Well…” Pan trailed off when he noticed the cold glare he was receiving from Tyme. Giggling nervously, he raised his arms in the air, backing away. August laughed even harder, tears streaming down his face, his hand beating the arm of the couch mercilessly.

What, in this messed up world, had she entangled herself in?

“Well, boys an’ lady, I’m ‘fraid I ‘ave ta tend ta some other patients, so, I’ll be goin’. Pleasure meetin’ ya, Ms…”

“Tyme.”

“Lucia. Well, I’ll be off then.” Whipping around, she stalked toward the door, patting Pan’s shoulder as she passed, mumbling something inaudible the him. His face lit up, and flustered, he walked with her to the door, hissing something that drew a laugh from Lucia.

“Of course not, dearie. Get some rest now, or those wounds will only get worse, righ’, Tyme dearest?” Startled that she was called out, Tyme nodded, watching in amusement as Pan’s face became redder. He blended so well with the humans… She couldn’t help but feel a little envious.

With a dainty wave, Lucia slipped out into the stream of chaos, her blonde curls disappearing into the throngs of people. Sighing heavily, Pan slammed the door shut, locking it. August, who had finally stopped laughing, stood up and stretched, yawning widely.

“Well, I think I’m gonna go get some shut-eye. How ‘bout you, Charlie?”

“Yeah, I could use some sleep.”

“You can take my bed. Ah! No arguing. I prefer the couch, anyway.” August lead the man up the stairs, their voices fading as the distance grew. Pan watched the archway for a long, long moment after they faded into the darkness, his back pressed against the door. Tyme sighed, glancing toward the large cauldron, her head resting on the back of the couch.

“So, you’re going after Chance, too, huh?”

“Figured you heard. Yeah, I am. He’s got Will. Well, guess you prob’ly don’ know him. Will, short fur willpower. Prob'ly the most human o’ us all. An’ he’s a good friend o’ mine.” Chaos and willpower, friends? The idea seemed ridiculous. But the look in Pan’s eye, that look of pure determination, wasn’t that of a liar’s.

“Friends, huh? I would think Pandemonium would be the least likely of all to make friends.”

“So, how ‘bout you? Why’re you hunting down fate?” Obviously ignoring her last comment, Pan made his way over to the couch, sitting beside her awkwardly. Tyme shifted her eye so she could just barely glimpse his face, choosing not to move her head. He seemed to be avoiding looking at her for some reason. Looking down, she realized she still wore the flimsy towel, the cloth a bit too low. Ah, so that’s why.

“I’m getting revenge for a friend of mine.” She murmured, tugging the towel a bit higher for Pan’s comfort. He really did seem like a human. The way he acted, the way he talked, even the fact he was so capable of responding to human emotion. How was he, born from chaos, so… Humane?

“Even time can ‘ave a friend, huh?”

“He’s dead. Chance, he… Well, he gave me the same choice as Will. Either change his fate by going and submitting to Sotelo, or… Or letting Sven die. And, well… I…” Why was it so hard to say? Why couldn’t she admit she was a coward? Maybe it was the fact deep down, she knew she made the right decision. Sven had only been human. He would have died with the world, if not before. And bowing down to that man… Yet, why did it feel so wrong?

“Will made the wrong choice. He was blinded by his love for a human, an’... An’, Chance, well, he fulfilled his promise. He, uh, he brough’ her back to life, bu’... Bu’ she loathed Will. Tried to kill him, an’, well, Will killed her tryin’ to protect himself. Las’ time I saw him, he was a complete wreck.” Tyme shuddered at the thought of killing Sven with her own two hands. Horrible… Just horrible. And to think if she had allowed herself to fall for Chance’s ploy…

A loud silence filled the room, and Tyme glanced at Pan out of the corner of her eye, watching him slowly clench his fist. Sighing, she ran her fingers through her hair, looking up at the ceiling. What was this feeling? Pity? No, that wasn’t it… Compassion? Guilt? No…

“I guess I can help you get your friend back. But know that I put my own goals first, so if he gets in the way-”

“I know. Thank you.” Pan’s voice shook as he spoke, and once again, Tyme glanced at him, watching a few tears fall down his cheeks.

It wasn’t that he was weak and needed her help; she could tell just from a glance Pan was strong. It was the fact Chance was so… Unpredictable. She’d have a better chance at reaching her goal if she had Pan by her side. She’d help Pan, and Pan would help her. It was a win-win.

That was the only reason she needed. And even though he knew she was simply using him, he still accepted her arrangement.

He really was humane.

A quiet snore caught her attention, and Tyme allowed a small smile to touch the corners of her mouth. Pan had fallen asleep, his head tilted at an odd angle. Figures: he was healing, after all. And at the rate he was, a lot of energy, no doubt, was being consumed.

Standing, she gently moved him so he was in a more comfortable position before slipping into the next room to grab her slightly damp clothes. Shrugging them on, she ducked out of the building and into the heavy darkness of the cavern.

It was colder than she thought it would be, the temperature having dropped at an extraordinary rate. Only an hour ago the cavern had been comfortably warm, the light dimming. But, being underground, the heat must have escaped into the tunnels, leaving only a freezing darkness behind.

And there were people sleeping in this cold.

Sighing, Tyme sat on the steps in front of the building, letting the darkness envelope her senses. This world Chance seemed to control was highly unbalanced, and from the way the people were acting, she could tell it made them restless. She had learned long ago that it was only human nature; eventually, if desperate enough, they overthrow the ruler.

But with Chance standing in the way, there was no way that was going to happen. The underdwellers would just be wiped out as easily as Sven had been.

But a war would be a good distr- What was she thinking?! Meaningless death? Was this what she’d fallen to? No, fighting wasn’t the answer. Not yet, at least.

What was, then? How could she lure him into a one-on-one fight? Blackmail? Hostages?

He’d just say it was fate.

Sighing, Tyme rested her head in her hands, letting the thoughts ebb away. She’d just wing it, like she normally did. The repetitiveness of history would bring her what she wanted. It never failed to do so. For the time being, she’d just break a few circles of fate and wait for him to show his ugly mug to her.

Her thoughts slowly meandered back over to Pan. How was it chaos, the most unpredictable concept, was so… Tame? It just didn’t seem logical. And why in the world was he friends with a concept such as willpower? Nothing about him seemed to fit, not the way he acted, and not his eyes. His eyes… Red as blood, yet filled with melancholy. Eyes that pierced the soul. They hid a past of guilt and pain… Even without her left eye she could see that.

A slight breeze stirred her hair, and slowly, she raised her head, breathing deeply. It wasn’t the sweet air she used to inhale deep in the mountains, nor was it the refreshing wind of the sea, but it wasn’t unpleasant. It was earthy, like that of fertilized soil. A smell she found much more appealing than that of the outside world.

Exhaling slowly, Tyme closed her eye, falling into a light doze. How long had it been since she slept? Every now and again she’d jerk awake, looking around. Finally, her light slumber became deeper and heavier, and her awareness of the world faded into a dreamless dark.