"She's conscious. Heart rate going back to normal levels."
Peyton kept still, although she wasn't happy about it, as the paramedics continued their assessment of her. She felt fully awake now, normal, but apparently they too had been having "trouble getting a response" from her for some minutes now. That and her heart rate had been too low for their liking.
They were pulling up to the hospital now, stopping in front of the Emergency Room doors and sliding her out, still on the gurney. And though they weren't as in as much of a rush now that she had her eyes open and was talking with them, they still refused to let her walk on her own. Hospital policy, they insisted. But Peyton didn't want to bother with the hospital at all. For some reason she really doubted they had medication especially for keeping you in your own body.
There was a shout from down the sidewalk as the paramedics rolled her into the hospital and Peyton craned her head to see what it was.
"Peyton! Oh thank God! Hey! Can you guys wait up? I'm the one who freaking called!"
Peyton grinned widely, even after she passed into the building and out of sight.
"Clara," she called back. "It's fine! I'm ok!"
It was quiet for a moment and then Clara appeared in front of the sliding doors, hair a mess on top of her head and looking generally frazzled.
"You are not!" She was glaring at Peyton as if she'd decided to go into a coma-like state just to prank everyone. "This is the second time, Peyton! Second time!" A couple of the nurses glanced at each other in what might have been mistaken as amusement. But of course that couldn't be the case, because surely they were more professional than that.
"And don't even think that you're getting off easy," Clara continued; cutting in when Peyton opened her mouth to speak. "You're parents were informed again and your family is coming up. All of them."
Peyton groaned at the news and a nurse took over for the paramedics, wheeling her out of Clara's sight and into another room to take her vitals.
They asked her the usual questions, they asked her some specific questions, and Peyton did her best to answer honestly without mentioning the fact that she literally thought her consciousness might be traveling through dimension to inhabit foreign bodies.
Given that this was the second time this occurrence had happened, and given that it seemed to imply a budding pattern, the doctor ordered for her to have an MRI scan done.
It would have been much more economical and lucrative to rent out her body to some avant-garde scientists to study, but Clara refused to let her leave without the tests being done. Clara needed to stop trying to pull rank and use her connections at the hospital before Peyton went home and hid all of her favorite books.
But Peyton cooperated with the nurses and agreed to the MRI despite what it was
probably going to do to her budget in the future and just hoped that her insurance would cover more of it than she expected.
They gave her a flimsy gown to change into and the nurse told her to make sure there was no metal on her person or it wouldn't be fun during the scan. She pointed towards Peyton's chest and canted her head briefly.
"No jewelry," she reiterated.
Peyton frowned. She didn't wear jewelry to bed. There shouldn't be anything metal on her in the first place. She brought her hand up to where the nurse had gestured and her fingers brushed over a warm metal. Her lungs seized in her chest as she hastily reached back to unclasp the necklace and hold it at eye level.
It was the locket that Lex had given her. It was the same shining silver with delicate filigree around the edges. When she popped open the locket, his picture was still inside. She dropped into the chair she'd laid her pajamas on and tried to take deep breaths.
Real. It was real. All of it. Sure, she'd sort of come to that conclusion already, but there had always been that nagging seed of wonder that kept her from fully diving headfirst into the theory. She'd still had the lingering doubt that maybe she was just going mad. Perhaps it was a brain tumor and she was hallucinating. But the nurse had seen the necklace. It was real. And it had a picture of a boy inside who, as far as she knew, didn't exist here. Or, at least he didn't exist as a billionaire's son.
"What am I going to do," she mumbled to herself.
A knock at the door jerked her out of her musings and she stood as she quickly tucked the necklace under her crumpled pajamas. And then she forced herself to shove all those sorts of questions away for later in order to just focus on the tests the doctor was explaining to her. But even then, even as she made herself repeat in her mind every sentence the doctor said, none of it was comforting.
There was no precedence for this. How could she hope for a cure when she didn't even understand the ailment?
She laid obedient and still on the table as the table slid her through the scanner, no longer worrying about things like growths or misfiring brain cells. The necklace had been proof enough to kill any hopes for a reasonable fix.
When she finally checked out of the hospital with promises of a follow up regarding her test results mostly likely by the next day, Peyton had a short hour of peace before her entire family came barreling through her front door. At least she'd had enough time to put on some decent clothes and stash the necklace away in her room.
Her mother was hiccuping as she squeezed her in another tight embrace. Peyton held her back and ran her fingers through her mother's thick hair in a mimicry of the comfort her mother used to give her as a child. It had been over a week since she'd last seen her parents, shorter for them, but the fear of never reuniting with them had made the time seem longer. She squeezed her mother back just as tightly.
"I'm ok, mom," she managed to say evenly. "I'm fine; I'm ok. The doctor's will take care
of it. I'm sure it's something really dumb. Like I'm dehydrated or something."
"If this is happening because you won't take care of yourself I'll wring your neck and make you move back home," her mother scolded. She was finally pried away by her brothers who were smiling largely and with too much humor. It distracted their mother from continuing to get weepy over the subject and Peyton knew their efforts were working.
"Come on, mom," Orion whined. "You can't hog her to yourself."
"Yeah," Jacen joined in. "We haven't even gotten to see her in forever. You have to
share."
They both pushed their way forward and smashed her in the middle of a group hug like they'd been doing since they first realised they could gang up on her. Peyton wailed theatrically like she always did.
"Guys, please! I'm an invalid! You're crushing my bones!"
Orion tsked reproachfully as Jacen scoffed.
"You should have thought about that before making the hospital a second home."
"Now mom and dad are going to want to make regular visits."
"Should probably get a couple guest rooms dedicated to us."
Peyton snorted and ushered them further into the house, trying to get the front door closed before bugs started flying in.
"You wish," she said. "You too would get to sleep on the roof."
Orion laughed and Jacen rolled his eyes as they brushed her off. Orion went to dig through her fridge and Jacen began shifting through the DVD collection beneath the TV. Peyton let them be and turned back to finally greet her father with a hug.
"You guys didn't have to drive all the way out here," she said. The smell of her father's aftershave was warm and settling and Peyton breathed it in deeply as she held onto his coat. "But I'm glad to see you," she added. Her father held her back, one hand on the back of her head, and he kissed the top of her hair.
"No need to go to such extremes to get our attention," he said, humor lacing his voice. "All you have to do is call."
Peyton laughed as she pulled away; her mother swatted her father on the shoulder.
"How can you joke? This is serious, Samuel!"
Peyton announced that she was going to make them something to eat, and her mother rushed to insist on doing it and forcing Peyton to rest. She and her father shared a look and she winked at him, mouthing,
"You owe me."
He only grunted in response.
Luckily for her, it was one of Clara's off days so she didn't have to worry too much about disturbing her. It was near impossible to stifle the noise of her family's laughter and debates and after days in a near silent mansion, Peyton was almost tempted to insist that they stay the night. But there really wasn't room in the house and that wouldn't be fair to do to Clara without any notice. As it was, Clara had only been at the house with her briefly after her family had arrived, and then skedaddled off to who-knows-where to give her alone time with everyone.
Her family stayed for the rest of the day and despite the worried glances that her mother would often shoot her, it was a nice visit. She knew that her father and brothers were concerned as well, but they were always better about suppressing it and looking for a sunny outcome. They ordered takeout for dinner so that they wouldn't have to do any extra driving, and Peyton demanded that they let her pay for the pizza as a thank you and because this was her house, darnit. She could do what she wanted.
They lingered after dinner a while, and Peyton enjoyed just sitting on the couch, chatting with all of them, watching as the twins played with the old Nintendo they'd scavenged out of her room, and basking in the comfort they brought her. It was nice to pretend for awhile that everything was normal and she had no impossible concerns.
But eventually they had to wrap the visit up. The twins still had school and her dad had
work, so they called it a night. Peyton saw them out the front door, hugging them each in turn and promising to take it easy for the time being and also to keep them updated on the doctor's findings.
She text Clara to let her know that her family had left and tried to mentally prepare herself for what awaited her at work the next day. Clara, the saint, had covered her bases for her and actually called her work, but that didn't mean it was going to go smoothly in the morning. Luckily Peyton had a doctor's note to validate her hospital stay and she was pretty sure she couldn't be fired for just medical emergencies, right?
Unless her boss found some petty excuse to use in order to get away with it. She really wouldn't put it passed him.
She pulled out the necklace before she went to bed. It was still there; still real. Lex's picture was actually inside. The heart shaped locket twisted as she let it dangle from the chain and watched it. Peyton gnawed on her lower lip a moment still following the curves of the filigree, still wondering what this all meant for her.
She'd stumbled on something she didn't understand; something that was out of her control. But it couldn't just be her. There were about seven billion people in the world. It was impossible that she, out of everyone, was the only person that this had ever happened to.
[]
Being trapped inside an iron maiden and forced to listen to a nonstop stream of early Justin Bieber hits would have been preferable to work that next morning. The doctor's note had kept her from being let go, but it didn't protect her from her boss's ire, or the snide suggestion that if she was having such unpredictable symptoms that maybe she should just do the right thing and let them find someone more reliable. For a moment she'd been tempted to do just that and walk out of the office in a righteous anger, telling her boss off and accepting the admirable applause of ex-coworkers as she marched out the tall glass doors and out onto the streets.
But then she remembered that she had rent to pay and food to buy and she was forced to grit her teeth and stubbornly remain at her desk. She consoled herself by promising that she'd start searching the open job market now in her spare time.
It was a struggle to catch up with work and avoid her boss as much as possible and field all the questions from her coworkers who now knew whatever she was suffering from was most definitely not a flu.
But Peyton pressed on until lunch, which she decided to take out of the office at a cafe down the block. She breathed a breath of relief there and let the hum of the streets envelope her in a cloud of anonymity that was comforting more than isolating. There still hadn't been a call from the hospital yet, but Peyton was a bit curious now to know if they'd find something. She suspected that they wouldn't, because that would just be her luck. But perhaps there was something to help her find out a cause for all this? Perhaps she had some brain synapses that were firing at different frequencies? Or perhaps a portion of her gray matter was more active than it should be?
The hospital called around mid-afternoon, after her lunch hour of course, and she had to excuse herself to take the call because it really was important.
Out in the hall, she hit the accept button and tried to hurry the doctor through the seemingly required pleasantries. In the end the doctor basically told her they hadn't found any tumors or signs of cranial injury. There was, perhaps, a bit more activity in her parietal lobe than they usually saw, but it was nothing concerning unless she had other symptoms to go along with it. Peyton assured him that she definitely didn't have any other concerning symptoms.
And even though she now had no faith that medical doctors could help her, Peyton agreed to go make appointments for further tests to try and "nail down the root problem."
She attempted to make appointments of her own. At home, with a spare pen holding her blonde tresses up in a messy pile on her head, Peyton hunkered over her laptop with a notebook at her side. On the page open she had a list of all the most relevant theoretical scientists she could find and their emails, if she could find them.
Once she'd gotten a few collected she'd written out an email to mass send, loaded with questions and vague implications of alternate dimensions and realities. Of course, she didn't want to come right out and say she thought she had the ability to transverse worlds; even the most nutty of the fringe scholars would find her crazy. But if she could ease them into it, get them curious enough to talk with her, maybe she could open them up to the topic.
By the end of the week she'd sent out more than five emails and gotten nothing back in reply. Peyton wasn't exactly surprised, but disappointment still tickled at her. Her parents, though, called everyday if she didn't call them first, and she kept them in the loop about the doctor's report and how she felt.
Perfectly fine, of course! It probably wouldn't happen again!
If only she could actually believe that. The necklace from Lex still sat on top her dresser where she'd left it. It hadn't disappeared or glitched out or turned to dust. And it taunted her with the knowledge that she mostly likely wasn't done. At least this time she'd made it a week without incident.
Would they eventually stop? She had to hope they would. When the other Peyton's body finally grew old and passed, would she finally be free? Or would she randomly find herself waking in a dark coffin now and then?
If she died in that reality, what did that mean for her in her own world?
Peyton shuddered to think about it. And since she had no way to answer any of those questions she decided not to dwell on them. It would do nothing but get her skin clammy and hands shaky, so it wasn't worth it.
[][]L.L.[][]
Lex sat in his last lecture for the day, half listening to the professor as he took idle notes. It wasn't a bad class, but Lex found practical experience a much more rewarding learning method. He'd already been training under his father since birth to take over the family company, so it really wasn't as if he needed the extra lessons. If anything it would just legitimize what what he already knew with a piece of paper announcing he had a degree. That and it bought him some time away from dear-old-dad.
In the chair next to him sat Peyton Woods, or at least her body. Lex had given up trying to find a real conscious inside of it long ago. Once he'd become a legal adult and had more resources at his disposal, he'd quietly hired some of the best doctors he could find to run tests on her body.
They hadn't quite understood what they were looking at, some said. Others suggested severe cranial trauma. Regardless of who had performed tests, there was the mutual agreement that something just wasn't right.
It could answer basic questions and interact on a superficial level. But it was highly susceptible to suggestion, and they said that the frontal lobe activity was "static".
So although Lex did not particularly like whatever was inhabiting Peyton's body, if there were anything in there at all, he tolerated it with the hope of seeing the real girl again. And there would be people to take advantage of her, he knew. He couldn't let that happen. He'd already betrayed Peyton once, he couldn't let her be abused when she had no power over the situation. As far as either the Woods family or his father were concerned, they were still in a superficial relationship. And despite the fact that his father had more than suggested he "break it off" multiple times, Lex persisted.
Once the real Peyton came back they could talk. He had proof now. Evidence to show her that she wasn't actually "taking over" anyone's life. And he may even go as far to suggest that perhaps this other reality that she always returned to wasn't the real one.
But that was if she ever returned again in the first place. It'd been a long time.
He cut his eyes at Peyton's body, noting how she stared blankly out at the opposite wall. One might be able to believe that she were actually just bored instead of empty.
[][][][][]
She telecommuted for half a day on Saturday, just trying to make up for lost hours and the pay that came with it. It wouldn't be fair to leave Clara hanging with extra bills just because she was having a personal crisis.
It was as she was wrapping up for the afternoon, emailing files to herself and logging out of her timecard, that an email notification popped up on her screen. Peyton decided to check it incase it was more work, and tabbed over to her email account. Instead of work, in the sender column it read "Dr. Robert Henson" and the subject line was a reply to the one she'd sent out at the beginning of the week. Peyton's heart rate raced a bit. She held her breath as she opened the email and prayed it wasn't just the scientist's secretary humoring her as if she were a curious fourth grade student completing a school assignment.
Miss Woods,
I must admit I don't get many curious emails like yours, which intrigued me in and of itself. Since I have a spare moment, I will do my best to answer your questions, but I have to say that your wording suggests that these particular topics aren't what you're truly curious about specifically.
Peyton hastily read over the rest of the email, though she knew he was right. They were supplemental and testing questions at best. But his email seemed almost amused and perhaps he would humor her a bit more.
Dr. Henson,
Thank you for your quick reply and for humoring a curious reader. You're partially correct in that I didn't quite ask the questions I truly want answers to, but I'm not exactly sure how they'd come across or how you'd receive them. Though perhaps it would be best if I didn't waste more of your time.
What is your professional opinion on alternate dimensions and parallel universes? And, forgive me for how this sounds, do you have any theories about how they may collide or interact?
Would ordinary people ever be able to be aware of it if there were some interaction?
She sent the email off feeling a bit more uneasy than she had initially. There was a real live scientist talking to her on the other end of the computer! Oh gosh, she was probably making a fool of herself. But it was legitimate! She had the proof, if it actually came up as proof at all. Peyton fiddled with the necklace tucked in her front pocket. With a sigh she pulled it out and stared at it for the hundredth time. The week back home had refreshed her. She felt back in control again and her fury at Lex had faded a bit more.
He still gazed out into the distance from his picture, and Peyton wondered how much older he'd grown. She swore time never moved the same way twice between them. Maybe he was old now. She was glad she'd at least told him she'd forgiven him before leaving.
Her mother had invited her to dinner at their house that evening, and Peyton figured it was her turn to make the drive back to her childhood home for a visit. Also, her mother was excellent in the kitchen and she was craving a home cooked meal after a week away from the fancy kitchen she'd left behind.
Clara told her to text her when she arrived, and Peyton was sure that her friend was mildly concerned that she'd slip into another coma while behind the wheel. Peyton found that to be wildly ridiculous. She'd only "slipped into comas" so far after going to bed. But she reassured her friend that she would text her promptly after arriving nonetheless.
The house was a clean, whitewashed brick structure that leaned more toward the small side. It looked like her father had gotten a few new birdhouses since the last time she'd been up, and she smirked in amusement at the tugboat shaped one as she parked along the curb.
She made sure to shoot a quick text off to Clara while she trotted up the walkway to the front door.
Every time she came back home it was almost like she'd never moved out at all. Peyton greeted each family member and immediately set about helping her mother set the table and finish up preparing dinner. Again she was left with feelings of warmth and comfort. The strange phenomenon that was trying to take over her life became distant and containable. As long as she had her family around nothing could touch her.
They ate, and chatted, and teasingly ganged up on her father like everything was normal. Peyton tried to get Jacen or Orion to admit to any crushes, but both stubbornly denied anything. Though Jacen did seem fidgety during her interrogation and she smugly tucked that insight away for future teasing. And since she still had the next day off, she agreed to stay the night instead of being forced to drive back home in the dark. She made sure Clara knew so that she wouldn't start calling the police and every emergency contact listed on the fridge.
The rest of the evening was spent quietly. Peyton read a book on the couch cuddled up next to her mother as she crocheted another blanket to either donate or gift away. Her father frustratingly, and unchanging as ever, channel surfed at a pace that had her focusing intently on the book in front of her in order to avoid motion sickness.
When her phone dinged, signifying that she'd gotten a new email, she dropped the book so quickly one might've guessed it had caught fire. She opened the email and tilted the phone away from the often curious gaze of her mother as she read over the message. Whatever luck she had must have been holding out because Dr. Henson had actually replied yet again.
-most definitely a growing interest in this field in the last few years, part of his message read, though still not quite enough "concrete" evidence for some to fully believe in. I'm afraid I cannot fully answer your questions about interacting with other dimensions because, well, we just don't know, frankly. There are a lot of ideas, but that's what this field of study is.
Peyton pursed her lips as she read over the email twice. Nothing. He could give her nothing. Unless, perhaps, she gave him something a bit more.
Did she really want to open herself up like that? Although what was the worst that could happen? Really? At most she'd be exactly where she started with one person she'd never meet thinking she was crazy. It might just be worth it.
Dr. Henson,
Thank you once again for your time! But, please, indulge me for a second and let's pretend that I have experienced first hand a parallel universe. Let's also pretend that I have an item brought back from that world. Would there be a way to validate that scientifically?
She tapped the sides of her phone with her thumbs as she considered tacking on a bit of information at the end.
If you actually reply to this email and I do not get promptly back to you, I apologize. I've been having some medical issues lately that seem to have been puzzling even the doctors.
Peyton hit send before she could think about the message too long. He would either be curious or he wouldn't. There was nothing she could do about it now except hope and wait.
Monday rolled around sooner rather than later, and she hadn't received a reply from Dr. Henson. She was truthfully doubting he'd actually respond to what basically equated a person claiming they'd been abducted by aliens running to NASA for help. Still, she couldn't help but feel disappointment. He had been the only one to send a reply so far, and he must have just been severely bored that weekend to even do that.
Peyton said goodbye to the hopes of ever getting an explanation, or a cure, for what was happening to her.