If this is what being dead feels like, I want nothing to do with it.
The pain flares as I shift and the groan sounds pitiful.
“Fuck.”
“Try not to move,” a woman whispers. “Your injuries are severe.”
I force an eye open. Elizabeth sits cross-legged next to me, watching me. I close it. I don’t need whatever judgment she’s passing on me. No matter how much I deserve it.
I call up my spell list
Spells
Available points: 11
Category: Healing
Aid, Level 7
I wonder how long Terry’s list is. Knowing him, he probably has all of them at this point. The chuckle has me groaning again.
How does magic work again?
That was a query, system.
System Query: Spells
Spells are the application of mana toward creating a tangible effect. The cost in mana varies based on the complexity and effect of the spell. The more complex a spell, the more components are involved in creating its effect.
Every 10 level in a spell reduces its cost by one mana
Okay. That’s useful. I dump all my points in Aid, then raise my hand.
Fuck, that hurts.
“Chuck,” Elizabeth says, “you shouldn’t be moving. There are no healers among the people we rescued, so—”
The gesture is simple, a turn of the hand, a curling of the fingers. There’s a sense of needing to get it perfect, but I think that applies to the bigger stuff. The stuff Terry does.
I see the drop in my mana bar, so I know it worked, but at one point for each casting, my arm gets tired before I go through all of it.
“What did you do?”
I open an eye; I don’t have to force it this time. “Magical first-aid.”
“I didn’t know you knew magic.” Is that surprise or offense?
“Just that one.” I hesitate. No, I’m waiting for him to voice his opinion, and I’m unsure what to do when he doesn’t. I almost call out to him, but he’s a voice in my head, and she’s real. I need to resolve this first. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about it. I’m… not used to sharing stuff like that.”
She chuckled. “I don’t think any of us are yet.”
Wait, did she just say I’m like everyone else in this? Everyone out there keeps what they can do a secret so now one… No. She’s talking about the system. She means that people aren’t used to including all those new things they can do when they talk about themselves, yet.
Except Terry, he has no problem talking about it.
This chuckle doesn’t hurt as badly, but reminds me I’m not done. I go through the mana I have left, and what regenerated and what seems like a tenth of my health is back. So at least now I can see something on that bar.
“Chuck, we need to talk.”
Okay, I’m in trouble. That’s a solid doh. Question is, how bad is it? I’d expected John to lay into me over this, not her.
“Terry, he lost his father when he was young.”
Okay, where is this going?
“He died when Terry was four. I… I haven’t had much luck dating, and any of the men he starts getting attached to end up leaving.” She pauses, and I’m still trying to figure out why she’s talking about her love life. “Terry, he looks up to you, and…”
“Elizabeth.” I can’t believe she’s going there. “I’m—”
“Gay, I know.” She laughs. “God, I’m not talking about getting together.” It dies quickly. She sighs. “Believe it or not, these last months have been the longest Terry has had a stable f—male figure in his life.”
“I’m not…” fuck am I not that guy.
She chuckles. “I don’t think you get a say in it.” Again, it dies quickly. “Chuck, what you did…”
“I wasn’t planning… that isn’t why…”
“You cut us off, Chuck.” Her tone is sharp, her eyes hard. “John asked you to wait for us to help you and you slammed the door in his face.”
“I didn’t need—” I close my mouth. I’m here, in the clearing by the truck, bandaged. I most certainly needed the help. “I’m sorry.”
The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.
Her expression softens. “Chuck, you have issues. I get that. But are you even trying to overcome them?”
Not snapping costs me a chunk of willpower. “You don’t overcome what I’ve got.”
“And what do you have?”
I shake my head. I’m not going there.
She nods.
I wait for her to say more. Express her understanding, while prodding for details. That was one of my father’s favorite tactics. She remains silent.
I notice my mana and cast Aid a few times.
“Paranoia. I’m mildly paranoid.”
She nods. She doesn’t smile, just nods, and that does nothing to alleviate my paranoia. She just got me to spill. So where’s that victorious smile?
“Do you take medication?”
“No, I’ve managed it by keeping away from people. Now I get the debuff, so if I catch it in time I can will it away.”
“If you don’t?”
I remember how I lost it on Albert. “It’s not pretty.”
She looks around. I can’t see them, but I hear the crowd. “That’s why you isolate yourself, why you quickly turn hostile when people keep bothering you.”
I shrug.
She nods again.
“I… I’ll talk with Terry.”
She raises an eyebrow.
“I owe him an apology, if nothing else.”
Another nod and I want to say more. Find a way to properly explain myself to her. Is that her technique? The nod and silence. The unbearable silence I just want to fill? Wow, I wonder how things would have been if my father had used that, instead of his cajoling and ‘understanding’ words.
“How long until you’re healed?”
“A while. This isn’t a big spell.”
“Might be something to look into.” She stands and stretches. “I’ll let the others know you’re on the mend and make sure they leave you alone.” She takes a step, then turns. “Chuck, this is what we can do, if we know what you are dealing with, why you are dealing with it. We can be a buffer.”
It costs me more willpower not to tell her I’ve been more than obvious I didn’t want anyone around from the start. What else did me snapping and growling at people meant? Me walking away. How much more clear did they want me to be?
You’re being suspiciously quiet.
No response.
Can my subconscious be knocked out?
It’s close to an hour before I am healed enough that I can stand. My jacket is… not a jacket anymore. Leather scraps, at best. There’s no one on this side of the truck, so I change into intact clothing. The nice thing about being on the road all the time is that I started this with a lot of clothing.
I should still figure out something about replacement. This world is not kind to clothes.
Heads turn as I step out from behind the truck, but no one approaches. Even Deloy and Maggie stay with the crowd, although they look at each other across it. Looks like they’re finally resolving their issues.
I locate John, dealing with a group I’ve seen him deal with for the last few days. People from Winchester. Before I take a step in his direction, Terry latches on to me tightly, face in my chest.
Dealing with not shoving him away distracts me enough so I don’t immediately realize he’s crying. It takes willpower, but I rest my arms on his back.
It takes more to say. “I’m sorry. I was just adventuring on my own for a while. I didn’t mean to…”
* * * * *
“I’m just heading out to hang out with the boys,” My father calls as he puts on his winter coat.
He’s lying. I know him well enough to know there is no one out in his life that fits the category of ‘the boys’. If he’s meeting with people, they’ll be marks. More likely, he’s off to swindle some random investor.
* * * * *
I don’t know if that was how he planned on vanishing from my life, or if something happened to him that evening. Maybe someone finally saw through him and they took care of him right there and then. If there had been a body, we would have been contacted, same if he’d been arrested, although I don’t see the police keeping him. My father could talk himself out of anything.
But the result was that he abandoned me that day.
You’d think that after the way he treated me for those seventeen years, I’d rejoice at him not being in my life anymore.
Instead, I spent years wondering what I’d done to chase him away. If he’d have stayed, if I’d been more obedient. If I hadn’t balked as much as I did when he told me to beat someone up, steal something.
If I’d been more the son he wanted.
Every so often, I still wonder.
It doesn’t matter how I can rationally see it had nothing to do with me. My father was an asshole of the highest degree. He was always going to abandon us. Somewhere in me lives the boy who needs to know why he couldn’t keep his father near him.
I crouch before him, and Terry dries his eyes.
“I didn’t tell them,” he says.
It takes me seconds to figure out what he’s talking about. “It’s okay.”
“John got enough of a direction before you left the team, then Deloy was able.”
“Terry.”
He jerks and lets out a breath. Why is this so hard?
“Terry, I’m not angry. I wouldn’t be angry if you had told him.” Don’t talk about what would have happened if they hadn’t shown up. He doesn’t need that image in his head. “I’m sorry.”
He shakes his head. Fuck. What can I tell him so he’ll stop thinking this is his fault?
“I didn’t think this would happen. I was just taking in some time alone to recharge. Then I found the dungeon, and I saw a chance to have some fun without having to think about anyone else. When John contacted me, it felt like he was intruding in my time. This wasn’t about you. It was about me.”
I don’t have one clue if it was the right thing to say by the way he looks at me. I could try to find out, but I’m scared to learn I’ve made things worse.
“I get it,” he says, and I keep my mouth shut. I can’t believe this one thing my father taught me actually has a use outside of conning a mark.
“Never put words in the mark’s mouth. Let them say everything they have to say, and then use that to get what you want out of them.”
“All this gets too much for me too sometimes. But I know how dangerous it is, while you never played these kinds of games.”
“That’s no excuse, Terry. Not after months of living in this new world. I should know. I just didn’t think it was that much of a threat.” I let out a chuckle. “I just didn’t think, really. It’s something I have to work on.”
“No. It’s okay. It’s who you are, I don’t want you to—”
“I have to work on it, Terry. Not because of you, but because of me. In the old world, just getting in my van and driving off worked for me. I didn’t have anyone close…” and there goes more willpower. “Like you. I could ditch the place that was making me uncomfortable, or the people who were pissing me off without any consequences. That’s not true anymore, and I have to start acting accordingly.”
Fuck, that look can’t bode well for me. “Are you going to be okay? I have to speak with John.”
He nods energetically.
John notices me approaching. He says something to the people around him, then has to say something more before they leave. There’s a circle of emptiness around us by the time I reach him.
“I—”
“You’ve got issues,” he snaps. “I get it.” His eyes flick to the right as I do the same to gauge what I have left of willpower. Maybe I’m not the only one running low.
“I want to apologize for what I did. For slamming the door in your face. I do have issues, but that isn’t a valid reason for what I did. You were looking to help me, and all I could think about was my solo adventure. I didn’t consider how my actions would affect the rest of you.”
He looks at me, and I wait.
“Right, you can’t tell this is my ‘I’m too surprised for words face’.”
“I don’t have the willpower to do that right now, but we need to sit down, and I need to tell you what my issues are so we can come up with a way to deal with them. My old tricks aren’t working.”
His eyes flick to the right again. “Yeah, I’m in a similar situation. Do you think you can hold it together until we reach Cross Junction? We shouldn’t be more than a day or two away at this point. We can sit down there and make a plan.” He offers me his hand, and after a hesitation, I shake it.
I’m back at the truck when the implication of what I told Terry and John hit me.
I’ve told them we were going to continue traveling together beyond Cross Junction.
I sink down and fight to keep the panic from setting in.