Somewhere Else

Chapter 30: Say Good-Bye

Faltering for only a moment, he eventually lifted both of his hands and seemingly pushed the problem away from him. Turning his head to the side, he let out a sigh. His eyes were focused lower than Kray’s face, figuring that if he didn’t look at him he’d realize something was wrong, other than the fact that someone’s suicide had just been brought to his attention. However, if his eyes were focused on the pale blue that often lifted his heart, he’d see in an instant that he was no longer there.

“Let him.”

Freak lifted a brow, surprised by the response he received. Rubbing his palms together, a malevolent smile spread over his lips and his piceous eyes had no trouble meeting those of the cowardly cop. “No problem Brecker.”

As though he’d finally just grasped all that was going on around him, he raised a hand, stopping the conversation that was taking place. “Excuse me. Are we seriously talking about allowing someone to commit suicide or have I missed something?”

Brecker could feel his stare upon him, even though he was far, far away. Rather than get into a confrontation where he couldn’t bring his all to the fight, he moved away and went to sit on the couch. He ran the palms of his palms up and down his legs, a motion meant to soothe. Anything of repetition would help him now, as he tried to find the life in which Kray was so depressed. He knew he’d never find him, per se, but was well aware that Reese was a motivator in this scenario and figured he would have no problem coming out to dicker with him.

Again Freak was more than elated to continue updating the sequence of events that was unfolding before their very eyes. “Not just someone copper, you.” There was a certain satisfaction in letting him know that the two of them were indeed going to let him kill himself. Sure, between them they might have the ability to put a stop to it, but for right now that action was not going to occur. For once he thought Brecker was making the right decision.

Meanwhile, Brecker was stepping through thread after thread of life, trying to locate Reese. Because his form was ever changing, he had to go off of feel alone. He had to sense him near, dodge around, and hope that he could stop him. The further he went from his active life, the less he participated in the conversation. The further from Kray he went, the colder his body seemed to grow. Until finally, when he seemed to near the life in which the dire situation was growing, he could feel such a darkness, such an empty void, that it nearly stole his breath away.

As soon as the feeling hit him, his eyes grew damp with tears of empathy. Nearing him, the feelings of despair and self-hatred grew so much that the tears that welled in his eyes finally spilled. Using the back of his hand, he brushed them away, fueled now by anger rather than sympathy for the man that had been reduced to such. Reese was behind this, he knew, there was no doubt in his mind. Searching through the city, for a street name or landmark, he finally asserted where he was and took off from there.

“He can’t just let me kill myself, can he? This is absolutely ludicrous!”

Only a soft, indifferent shrug came from the tall male then, his ghastly pale skin adding to the maniacal grin that he wore. Dark nails rested against a flamboyantly pink tuxedo jacket, standing out all the more. Tipping his head down, licking his lips, he informed him of what he already knew. “You could stop yourself if you wanted to. Obviously your life doesn’t mean that much to you. And if it doesn’t matter much to you, we already know that you’re not going to help us. Why should either of us help you now when you need it?”

The hostility that he felt from a complete stranger – in his own home no less – put him on edge. Rather than accepting what he was saying, he grew defensive. The door remained open and he now moved to usher the freak out of his home. Not another word was said.

“Yes, I’ll go. I see that I bother you.” Before he stepped out, back into the cold and the darkness of the night though, he nodded in Brecker’s direction. “You might want to try to catch him before he does something stupid. The bastard’s fallen in love you know, and you can’t reason with that.”

Though he’d done a fine job of keeping his personal life apart from what he was supposed to be doing, they were integrated, woven together so tightly that one couldn’t help but notice what was going on. Brecker was doing his damnedest to save them all, even if it meant self-sacrifice. In this case though, relinquishing himself would mean utter failure for the rest. No one could seem to get that through his head though.

Closing the door on him, he engaged the deadbolt and then turned to look at Brecker who appeared to have fallen asleep on the couch. Or maybe he was in deep thought. Out of all the possibilities he could come up with, moving through different lives, a different realm, trying to save another Kray who was suicidal was the least reasonable option. Moving closer to him, he called his name softly. In response, he only got a wave. When he was close enough to get a good look at his face, he realized his eyes were glazed over.

He ran. He ran until his heart pounded so hard in his chest he was afraid it’d tear through the flesh and bone barrier that was gifted upon him at birth. His heart thudded so loud he was afraid that with every beat it was the sounding of the gun, alerting him that he was too late. Frustrated that he wouldn’t be able to hear if that was the case, he came to a halt and doubled over, trying to drink in the air like he may never have it fill his lungs again. Each precious breath burned but he knew it was necessary. Finally, he started for the stairs that he knew led to Kray’s apartment, in this life and every other.

Greeted by a dark figure, cloaked and enabled by shadows, he knew the ominous figure was Reese. “What do you want?” The back of his hand pressed to his lower lip as he panted, struggling to get his breathing under control. There had to be some exchange that could be made. He’d been fighting against him long enough to know that this was a precious game of give and take.

“You’ve been holding out on me Brecker. In some lives you run. In others you fight. Give yourself up. You will still have your active life. I will not terminate you entirely. Do this and I will give you Kray. Once you are gone, they’ll be of no use anyhow.”

Despite what Brecker had told him, he knew that he wasn’t ever going to allow Kray to kill himself. Not in this life, in another, in any that he could help. Disgusted by his weakness and driven by his devotion, he knew he was going to have to help. Luckily he moved faster than any of the rest of them. He knew Kray more intimately than anyone else, because he’d been studying him for so long. While he hadn’t figured out what made the man tick, he knew that he wasn’t a cop in each of his lives by coincidence.

There was a short stop in the realm of death, where he sought and found his partner in crime. Together they wove through the lives that they needed to, for her sake, and Freak conveniently placed them in the apartment next to Kray’s. The walls were moderately thick. If he pounded on the adjoining wall, he would become bothersome. Sounds would be conveyed with some effort. He had but a few minutes before Brecker signed all of their certificates of death.

He knew that they’d have a dream. That was their only chance of ever waking him up and forcing him to take action. If he walked away, he would at least realize that there were other options. Now he was going to push his luck. Gripping the arms of the girl tightly, he leaned in and whispered reverently, “I’m going to slap myself and you’re going to scream as loud as you can. Then we’re both going to go up against the wall. This is your only chance sweetheart, so let’s make it count.”

If he agreed, if he told Reese that he could start taking him out, start depleting his energy source, he wasn’t going to be much use to anyone. However, if Kray killed himself here, succumbed to the power that this creature had over him, he wasn’t going to be of any use to them anywhere else. Reese would systematically move through all threads of life, using the mind control, using persuasion wherever possible, until he was no longer a threat. Not now and not ever. Brecker had already done his job. He brought them all together. There was nothing else that he could do.

Just as he was about to open his mouth and agree, before he consented to sacrificing all but one of his lives, making himself so weak that he’d not even be able to move to the realm of death any longer, he heard the most chilling, murderous screech of a woman he’d ever heard in his entire life. After that came a rumble in the apartment. There seemed to be furniture being shuffled about. Again he heard a scream, and this time the words of a woman could be faintly heard as well. A cry, a thud against the wall, and then nothing.

Paralyzed with fear, unsure of what was going on, all he could do was stare. The unexpected events seemed to draw Reese’s attention as well, because he looked over his shoulder to see if they were through. Seconds later a door opened. Not the one from the troubled apartment, but the other. Kray, in all his glory, came out with his gun pointed. Obviously he’d heard the words. He crossed the small porch and pounded on the door. “Police, open up!”

Brecker took a step back, confused about all that had happened. Reese stared in disbelief, looked back at Brecker and scowled. “You! You planned this!”

Both hands went up, shaking his head. “I …I don’t have any idea.”

But he did. The voices weren’t unfamiliar to him. The pounding on the door rang in his ears once more but it was quickly drowned out by Kray kicking in the door, his back to the both of them, arms rigid in front of him. The gun was pointed into the darkness, the unknown of the apartment next door. Understanding that everything would be okay, he eased away from that life, despite Reese’s anger with him, and returned to the one that he shared with Kray.

“Brecker.” He’d cupped his face, angling it towards him so he could look into his vacant eyes, immediately concerned with what had happened to him. Stroking his thumb along his jaw, he was hoping to coax him out of whatever trance he found himself in. Only a few minutes would be given before he’d take him to the hospital though. When his concern grew to a dangerous level, he saw life in those dark blue eyes. Again he called his name, to see if he might respond.

Reaching up, he wrapped his fingers around Kray’s wrist and offered him a reassuring smile. Exhausted beyond all belief, he leaned forward until his forehead rested upon his shoulder, grateful to be immediately embraced so warmly.

“So it is all real.”

There was no point in speaking though, because he’d known all along. Again he’d changed his own destiny, for the better, and again he would have that proof that he could do what Brecker told him of and much, much more. All he needed was a little faith and a little guidance. Though he’d not given his consent, he’d enraged Reese to the point that he would go on a massacre. Brecker would be his only victim for now. If Kray realized what was going on though, he could let it all go. Now it was his turn to put his faith in that man and hope that he would soon deliver him from the clutches of evil.

“Brecker I can’t do what you can. I can’t move around as you do. I don’t know what help I’m going to be to you.”

Though he was drained – physically, mentally, and emotionally – he mustered a soft laugh as he pressed his face into his neck. The laugh teetered on edge, threatening to spill right into tears, spent from what he’d felt from Kray in his other life. He wanted to give up, pull back, and wrap himself up in the life he had now. He wanted to preserve this so that when his other realms collapsed upon him, he would still have his sanctuary. Selfish indeed.

“Nick, you can do what I do and more. That’s the reason why everyone’s been holding out for you.”

Withdrawing from him, he sunk back into the couch. Looking as though he’d aged decades in minutes, he breathed deeply before expelling directions. Gesturing to the far side of the room, he tried to put into words how it was he moved. Baby steps at first, getting him to notice the tears in the threads, showing him the entrances. That was what had to come first. Surely he’d see it by now.

Pressing the palms of his hands to his thighs, he stood up without a single word of explanation, not just yet. “Close your eyes. Let go of everything you know. Put yourself into a white room and look around only when I tell you to do it.” Taking him by the hand, he led him to the corner of the room. There was no physical reason for why they would go to the corner, except that he found it was easier on anyone’s first time if they were put in such a position. “I want you to picture the room that we’re on now, only like it was a set for a television show. Keep two walls pulled off, a behind the scenes look. Where the walls leave off, I want you to imagine the same room again, only with a minute difference: the colors of the couch, carpet, or wall. Something on the coffee table where previously there was nothing.”

Though he did feel somewhat ridiculous standing in the corner of his own apartment, trying to imagine something so irrelevant, he figured it would make Brecker happy. So he put his mind to the task and very carefully pictured all that he asked him, paying close attention to detail. He imagined the wall with the bookshelves being stacked one after another. The alteration was his favorite book being removed, leaving only a gap between the spines of the novels.

“Now watch for it Kray. Between those two rooms there is an inevitable amount of negative space. Look beyond it, open your eyes, and you will see the same dark passage open up for you here. You will see the two closest lives nearly melding into one. When both scenes end you can pass between them. Move through it and remain still. When they align once more, simply step through again and return to me.”

Did he mention to Brecker that he sounded absolutely crazy earlier? After this he was not only going to have to check his boyfriend into a mental health hospital, he was going to have to ask for an adjoining room. Drawing in a deep breath, growing weary of this subject, growing frustrated with himself for even entertaining such an idea, he opened his eyes. The imaginary rooms that he held in his mind were still very much apparent. They were compared to where he stood now. Matching them up almost, and then simply picturing his apartment without that one book on the shelf, he figured it was the ability of the mind, the mind of anyone and not just him.

“Brecker…”

He’d stepped away and was scrutinizing from afar. Arms crossed over his chest, he was trying to envision the small, dark slot through which Kray would pass. He could see his own easily, when he looked. Usually he just moved, having no need for such a guide. Instead, he would simply step through wherever and move from that point forth. Kray would need a very distinct destination though. When he spoke, he hushed him, and continued to wait anxiously.

Another sigh came from him and he lifted a hand to pinch at the bridge of his nose. Again he looked to the bookcase, the one that was envisioned differently. The pad of his thumb must have interrupted his sight because there was darkness at the corner of one eye. Dropping his hand, he rubbed against a pocket and was somewhat surprised when the same darkness appeared and then remained where it was for a long moment. Then it was gone again.

If his vision was suddenly becoming a problem, he’d have to get that taken care of immediately. He’d be no good on the force without 20/20 vision. When the shadow appeared for the third time though, he knew it was more than just the trick of the eye. Glancing towards the man that stood waiting, he leaned forward. No physical step was actually taken but he felt quite light for a half of a second, then nothing.

“This is ridiculous.”

Lifting his hands to his face, he rubbed at his eyes and then dropped them, clapping them to his sides. Brecker was no longer standing where he was before. Turning, he wondered if he hadn’t wandered off to the kitchen in order to get a glass of water. That man had no patience whatsoever. When a quick search revealed that he was not there, he moved back to the bedroom. Perhaps he’d grown so weary he needed to lie back down. Better yet, maybe this was all a dream and he’d been sleepwalking.  Upon such an inspection though, he found the bed made.

Returning to the living room, the idea that this might possibly be real flitted through his head and there was an ounce of panic that bubbled up in him. Hadn’t Brecker told him that they didn’t know each other in any other life? If he’d sent him through to another realm, into a life where they did not know one another, and he got stuck, that would be it. He’d just be screwed. Brecker wasn’t the most logical of thinkers either. If there was step that needed to come before he passed through the shadows that he felt was unimportant before but turned out to be essential for his return, he hadn’t stated it and he might forever be stuck where he was, if that was what happened at all.

Just as he’d been told, he tried to imagine the bookcase differently. Though pictured differently, that didn’t make it real. Here when he’d imagined the book being absent, he found it to be right in its place. However, as he glanced a bit higher, he found that the annoying fish that’d been given to him after his fishing trip with Brecker was gone. A life without Brecker. Picturing the thing sitting on top of the shelf, plain as day, he sighed with relief when the two edges – reality and make-believe – came together. He passed through without actually moving once more.

Before he knew what was going on, he felt arms around him. He felt a nose pressed up against his neck. The warmth of a body, a solid body pressed to the front of his body. And a soft shaking as well. The smell of his shampoo was distinct and he knew that it was Brecker who embraced him so warmly. Wrapping his arms around him in return, he wasn’t sure if the man was having himself a good laugh or if he’d given in and started to cry. Either way, he would remain standing, stroking over the back of his neck and through his hair until he was well enough to speak again.