I'm not crazy, I'm just a little unwell

[songbird9.livejournal.com]

Who: Song and Chase
Where: Radiant Garden castle
When: Saturday night (technically Sunday morning)
What: An emotionally unstable ex-Nobody with a delusion-inducing fever... yeah, this ain't gonna be pretty.
Luckily there's a Chase to the rescue.



The clock on her laptop read 3:48 AM. She wasn't using the laptop, but she hadn't turned it off. iTunes still shuffled through random songs, the volume so low that no words could be distinguished, only faint, ghostly melodies. But the owner of the computer wasn't there to read its time or hear its quiet song. The room was empty. Cold wind blew through a half-open window to billow the curtains and lift the feathers tied to her dreamcatcher.

It was far too cold for the end of May in Radiant Garden. The wind had picked up shortly after dusk and had not let up. It was the reason she'd gone, having woken in the middle of the night tangled in sweat-soaked sheets, afire with fever and dazed out of her normally sharp common sense. She was too hot, the wind outside was cold, so she'd gone to it, clothed only in a sleeveless faux-silk nightgown the color of the sky before dawn. The wind dried her sweat and chilled her, but she didn't retreat form it. she'd wanted cool and it had given that to her, then she'd seen something pale and tall against the star-strewn sky and her muddled thoughts had drifted elsewhere. She seemed not to notice the unnatural winds even as her body shivered under their unceasing barrage. Step by barefoot step, she made her way to the castle.

Her body was moving automatically, following a specific path with no bidding from conscious thought. Her mind was elsewhere. Even a minor fall on the stairs induced no response beyond a mindless stagger to regain her footing before she continued. She remained virtually oblivious to her surroundings until her body reached its goal; a seemingly inconsequential room in one of the twisting towers high above the radiant city.

It was someone's bedchamber, though it looked to have gone unused for some time, everything impeccably neat and covered in a fine layer of dust. It was a nice room, not overly large or extravagant, yet still managing to impart a sense of nobility. It did not, however, look like the room of a prince, but then, the royalty of Radiant Garden had long been rather informal compared to those of more old-fashioned kingdoms. After all, the king and his adopted son were scientists before they were royalty. Such was the way of this forward-thinking city.

Of course, Ansem was no longer the king, and his son was certainly not the person he'd been in the past, but in this timeless section of the castle, none of that made much of a difference.

It was in the open doorway of that room, standing with her hand braced on the wall, that Song suddenly became fully aware of her surroundings, waking wide-eyed as if she'd been pulled violently out of a dream. she stood for a long moment, simply staring into the room and swaying ever so slightly on weakened legs. Then her expression became a harsh grimace and she moved stormily towards the bed, slamming her hands down on the edge of it and digging her fingers into the covers in a display of rage.

"You!" she shouted at thin air. "You, you, you. Always you! Why won't you leave me alone?!" Her voice wavered between anger and despair, thick as if with unshed tears. Her aqua colored eyes were glazed and confused by the same fever that addled her mind. "I said I was sorry! I said I was wrong! Why won't you talk to me? Why won't you forgive me? I forgave you for everything. Everything!" With unexpected force, she shifted her grip on the blankets and yanked them clean away from the bed, swinging them in a wide arc across the room to let them scatter chaotically over the floor. It was the greatest show of fury she could commit here. Even as delusional as she was, it simply wasn't in her nature to do any real damage.

"I forgave you. And you left me." She stared down at the array of blankets, and then sunk slowly to her knees, raising a hand to her aching head. "...Left me behind to burn. Oh gods, I'm on fire...." Her eyes welled with tears which refused to fall. Whether they were of physical pain or of sorrow was impossible to tell.

"Please..." the huddled figure begged of the empty room. "Please say something... Please forgive me... Please, I need... need to know... Please forgive me."

And the rest was black.

If someone were to enter that room before too late the next day - perhaps to investigate an out-of-place noise, or follow a path of doors left ajar - they would find the ill young lady passed out across the splayed bedcovers, dreaming fitful dreams.

Comments

[songbird9.livejournal.com]

At first, it didn't seem she would respond at all. Then, belatedly, she stirred, eyelids fluttering, but not quite opening. The faint moan that escaped her lips seemed meaningless unless one listened very closely, and knew what to listen for. Three syllables, a name that sounded like a breath of air, beginning with "oh" and ending with a soft hiss. But this was spoken in the slurred manner of a sleeptalker, and Song stilled once the name was off her lips.

[apollo-chase.livejournal.com]

Chase bit her bottom lip, not quite hearing the name but having an idea of what it was. Poor thing.

She wondered if she could...okay, she knew that she was one of the taller people here and that she could easily lift things most people her age would scoff at. But a sleeping person was dead weight, and she knew that was going to be...

"Song, I'm gonna take you back you back to Rainbow's End," she whispered, even though she knew it was going to be a very long walk. And she had no idea how she was going to-yeah. Bad idea. She glanced over at the bed in the room. The girl needed to sleep, and this was the closest bed.

Getting her to the bed wasn't an easy task, just because of the dead weight issue. But Chase managed to get her tucked in before pulling a chair up to the side of the bed, and settling into it. When Song woke up, it'd be easier to get her back to Rainbow's End. This was the least she could do until then.

[songbird9.livejournal.com]

The move to the bed did rouse her further, but the path to waking was slow. It was only when she had already been settled in that her eyes finally slid open. She stared blankly for a long moment before comprehension dawned.

Chase? What'reyou doing here? Where am I?" She tried to sit up, brow furrowed in confusion, but winced and stilled as her head began to throb again.

[apollo-chase.livejournal.com]

Chase blinked and leaned over the bed, a look of reassurance passing over her face. Or what she hoped was reassurance.

"You fainted," she explained quietly, in case Song had a headache. She gently pushed Song's shoulder back down against the bed when she tried to sit up. "Don't get up. You shouldn't have been walking around in your condition anyway. You need to get some rest."

[songbird9.livejournal.com]

"Mrrr," was about the most intelligent response Song could manage for the moment. She obediently laid back, but stared up at the ceiling rather than trying to go back to sleep. Her breathing was shallow, almost indiscernible, as if she didn't want to disturb the stillness here.

"..... This is Orpheus' room," said after a long stretch of silence, and with more clarity than anything she'd said before.
"How'd you find me here?"

[apollo-chase.livejournal.com]

Chase bit her bottom lip and glanced up at the ceiling. She really wished she had the magical equivalent of a bowl of chicken noodle soup, some tea, and a good rom-com (an oxymoron if she had ever heard one, but when you were sick, rom-coms did tend to gain some sort of credit).

"I was out walking late and saw you and followed you here," she replied after taking a small sip of her coffee, nearly scalding her tongue. Damn thermos that actually worked. "I was gonna try to get you back to Rainbow's End, but..." She trailed off and shrugged quietly, her words getting lost.

[songbird9.livejournal.com]

It seemed to take longer than it should have for Song's mind to make sense of the words. When she did answer, her voice was very soft, sounding almost lost.

"I was... It was just too hot. The wind was cold. And then he..." she faltered, her face tightening with the pain of loss. "I can't get him out of my head. He won't leave me alone. But he's not here, and I need... If I could just..." Her voice caught in her throat, trapped, without the words to continue. She knew what she needed, but with her mind so jumbled and afire, it was impossible to explain. Anyway, she'd said it all before, or thought she had. It was hard to be sure. Nothing was clear, and she felt she couldn't trust her own memories. She wasn't even certain how she'd ended up here, even though she vaguely recalled the ascent to the tower room and her fury. She'd thought it was a dream, the rare sort that was out of her control. Surely she would never say such things in waking. It wasn't how she felt, not really, but then.... it was all so unclear.

[apollo-chase.livejournal.com]

"Shhh," Chase murmured, feeling about as lost as Song sounded. She didn't have a lot of experience in comforting or nursing people, but she had some idea what to do. After all, the golden rule did apply to this kind of situation, didn't it? She kept her voice soft, low, and warm. "It's okay, hon. It's gonna be okay."

At least...she hoped it was going to be okay.

[songbird9.livejournal.com]

Surprisingly, Chase's technique seemed to work. Song was simply too sick to bother feeling patronized, which, considering her pride, meant she was very sick indeed.

She sighed, a sigh both of sorrow and of exasperation, but quieted and relaxed further into the warmth of the bed. His bed, though it had lost all but the faintest ghost of his scent, and what was left may have been only her imagination.

She wanted to thank Chase, wanted to beg her not to leave, but couldn't quite find the strength to open her mouth again. Soon enough she couldn't even keep her eyes open, and surrendered with only minor resistance back into a light, delicate slumber.

[apollo-chase.livejournal.com]

Chase sat back against the chair with a sigh once Song fell asleep, glancing up at the ceiling. Before, she had been a little disappointed with herself for not learning any magic, for not even continuing the cure lessons that Queen Minnie had taught them back before that last world shift. But now, it looked like it was for the best, if everyone else was so sick.

She pulled a book out of her sweatshirt pocket - Daniel Allen Butler's Unsinkable - and opened it to one of the dogearred pages. She wouldn't leave - even if she didn't know Song that well, she still considered her a friend. For that, she would stay.

not a near-death experience, really. this is something else

[songbird9.livejournal.com]

For almost two hours, she drifted in and out of true sleep, but never fully woke. She was sweating again, the work of the chill night wind undone. Her dreams were chaotic and nonsensical when she dreamed at all. Jagged, distorted and disconcerting. Fever dreams, to be sure.

A pale, muted dawn was breaking beyond the castle walls when her dreams changed. Two hours had seemed like eternity in her half-conscious, delirious state, and the heat finally drove her out of her own mind as it was meant to drive out the illness. She escaped it, but how or to where she didn't know.

There was the sensation of rising, not just above her own body but above the world itself.
Up and up and up, as if her universe had rested on the bottom of an ocean and she was now floating towards the surface.

The Unwaking Waters

She was not looking down at the place where her body still lay, but up. Up at something new and different. Above was something she had never seen, something she could not even put a name to. And yet... and yet, somehow, it was familiar. A distorted reflection of a place she'd been before... or was it a perfected reflection?

She realized belatedly why she could find no words to describe what she was seeing. It was because she was not seeing it in the sense of vision, but feeling. It was the kind of feeling one felt with one's mind and heart, a sixth sense. Instinct, intuition, a gut feeling... a knowing, beyond explanation... which was exactly why she couldn't explain it.

But floating there, just below the surface, she had an absurd vision of Ariel singing about being 'part of that world' and she knew, she knew that she should be there. Something was pulling her. In those hazy waters she couldn't make it out clearly, but it felt like a thread, a yellow thread of silk that was not unbreakable, but nearly so. Yellow... or was it red? Or both, or neither? She couldn't tell. She couldn't see it, only feel...

But there was another thread. This one she knew was purple, because had crafted herself, and it tethered her firmly to her own world, her own reality. She could not leave until her business there was finished, no matter how badly she might want to. Unless he came, and he persuaded her, she would not go until she was ready.

So it was that when her body began to wake again, she sunk slowly back to it, drifting like a feather falling towards the ground.

And when she woke fully, and opened eyes that were dazed but no longer delusional, she did not remember where she had been. All she remembered was a thread.

A thread and the taste of paopu fruit.