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Avid was floating on the passing of moments.
It could hardly be called time, but it was something not unlike it. Seconds or months, minutes or years, perhaps they were hardly different at all. There were soft lights and colours shifting around him, beautiful, in a way.
He hoped they wouldn’t sharpen. Reform.
Hurt.
There was a pressure behind his eyes. Like swimming too deep beneath the water. The kind that stays for hours after.
He found that odd.
Did he always feel?
He knew he did at first, he felt so, so much. Like his chest was split open, lungs ground raw,
bones tight and twisted in a body left behind.
But eventually it had slowed, until it had stopped.
Everything had stopped, except in the ways it didn’t.
Oh. Oh dear. Now why did he start to think about that?
He was suddenly awfully aware of his nerves. Each one,
humming,
stinging,
moving.
Did he hate it?
It was something, which he could admit tended to be better than nothing.
But… yes.
Yes, he thought he did rather hate it.
Why did he start to think about it? Didn’t Drift say not to get stuck thinking about-
Drift?
Yes. Yes that was his friend.
How could he forget about her?
He hadn’t, not really.
No more than he’d forgotten anything else.
She’d been helping him so much recently. He’d been so scared, so overwhelmed by everything and so so alone and yet there she was. There she was.
Where was she?
Where was he?
No. No, no no he couldn’t get lost again. He couldn’t. When he got lost he slipped away, he fell deep and it all closed around him. The light was draining. He couldn’t move. He couldn’t get lost again. Please, he couldn’t. Where was she? Where was
Drift
Elle
?
Where was she?
What had he done? Wood on bone, warm and cold, metal in his throat and under his nails what was done to him what had he done what had he done
Something grabbed his face and he was certain he was going to die.
“Oh- oh gosh look at you…” Bells. Small, tinkling bells that formed a voice. Dismay and concern and frustration and he suddenly felt so very guilty.
The hand- not grabbing, he realized, but gently cupping his cheek- brushed away something that stung slightly and tasted of salt. He realized he hadn’t been seeing. He hoped she hadn’t thought him rude. Now he could try. Form together the pieces. Light trickling back in around her hand. She looked like the sun.
Shelby smiled when he met her eye. A tired one, offered more than made, a comfort. She was happy he was trying for her. He tried so hard.
“Hi there, sweetie.” Her voice was so gentle. “Are you back?”
Avid blinked. He looked down at his hands. Shelby was holding them, with the one not still resting so softly on his face. “I…” he said, and his own voice was awfully far away. “Yes? Yes.” He hoped that was the response she wanted. It seemed to take some of the tension from her form, which he took as success.
“See?” came a voice from the other room. “He’s finneee.”
A cold chill fell over Avid. Panic clawed at his chest and he gripped Shelby’s hand. “Wait- wait no, I don’t- Shelby why is he here-“
“Hey! Hey, shh, it’s okay!” Shelby cooed quickly. “He’s safe! You’re safe, you’re at home in our apartment, okay? Scott and I both live here, and so do you sometimes! Do you remember?”
Avid tried to calm the frantic beating of his heart, the one trying so hard to convince him he was human. No… that’s right. He wasn’t. He wasn’t a vampire, either. He was something else. He shook his head as if to clear the fog. He didn’t want to think about that. Not right now.
He looked around the room, slowly coming into focus. Big windows, looking down from impossibly high. Bookshelves, potted plants, electric lights in soft lamps. Beside him, a device. A stereo player, his mind offered. One for tapes. It sat silent.
Shelby followed his eyes, and let out a frustrated sigh.
“Oh for- Scott, when did you last restart that?”
“Huh? Oh.”
Avid shivered at the voice. He knew he was safe
no he didn’t no he didn’t
but it was impossible to suppress it as the accented tone crawled across his skin.
“I dunno, probably not that long.”
“Okay, well, how many times did you restart it then?”
“Uhh… hm.”
Shelby groaned, pressing her hands to her face. “Scott! It’s only an hour long! I’ve been gone since noon!”
Oh. This was about him. He remembered now. The sounds were for him. He looked at his hands. Stained with colours. Paints. Like the ones on the canvas near his knees. Drift’s idea at first, then Shelby helped gather the items. Tracked down the song from the radio that made Avid smile again, found their whole album on tape. Taught him to paint. Drift had been teaching him to sew.
‘Such high maintenance’ said a voice he was unlearning the fear of.
Shelby had shown him her favourite films. Each a little piece to give him footholds.
“I… I’m sorry-“ Avid said. Shelby was disappointed, because he’d failed. She’d put in the effort and he failed again. “I didn’t notice it stopped I- I got lost, I’m sorry, I’m really sorry Shelby-“
“Oh Avid no, it wasn’t you okay?” Shelby said quickly. “You weren’t who was meant to- you don’t need to be sorry.”
“I mean he has a point,” Scott said. “It’s literally just a button.”
“Scott!”
“What? I’m not his babysitter.”
Shelby just glared, and he rolled his eyes before heading back through the doorway, out of sight.
“Don’t mind him,” she sighed, tucking a loose lock of hair behind Avid’s ear. “He’s not all that used to responsibility. And still kinda grumpy that you’re not-“ She broke off, biting her lip. “Look, just.. don’t take it personally, yeah?”
“…Yeah. Okay.” He didn’t want her to be upset with him. So many people had been so upset with him. Scattered, flashing in hot white bursts across his memory.
Drift had cried when she saw him. Shelby had cried too.
Apo was angry he’d ran off, he could’ve been hurt
He’d hurt Pearl, hands that weren’t his they hurt Pearl they hurt her he hurt her
He’d ran into the street and a child had screamed
Legs had hit him, lost his temper as he saw what they’d built
Scott too, in this room, when no one saw
Cleo had been so angry
Cleo had stopped Abolish.
He still didn’t know why.
Only that Drift had hugged her so tightly when Pearl told them.
“-you would like that?”
Avid blinked. Shelby was looking at him. Her face softened. “Hey, you here again?”
“…Yeah. Sorry.”
She held up something. Small and pink, a little bat charm hanging on it. “I was asking if you’d like me to call Drift.”
It felt like a little drop of sunlight, held out. He couldn’t let it fall away before he reached it. He nodded, then again, more intently. Shelby smiled, and began to dial right, he remembered these now, these were so odd but he quite liked them
It made a pleasant buzzing sound. He liked that part too.
“Hello?”
He lit up. She was there, the drop of sunlight, there in a little voice through a wonderful, wonderful magic that let her still be near him sometimes, even out of sight. The light shone through his fractal shards and lit them into dancing colours.
“Hi!” he said, instinctively. Shelby giggled, holding it up between them to let his voice reach Drift even more, let her be right there.
“Avid!” He could hear her smile and it bubbled up inside him like music. “Hey buddy! How you doing? Having a nice time with Shelby?”
She was speaking in that way, how she did when he was off, when he was wandering. Part of him felt guilty for it. He knew he’d been doing better. He could remember shapes of conversations that felt close by, where he’d almost sounded as he used to. So did she.
But part of him wanted to melt into that soft tone, as it promised to break his fall through the odd little thing Shelby held out.
“I miss you,” he said.
“I miss you too, bud.” It was a little sad, but not completely. He was glad she was still here though. He missed her but she was here and that was wonderful. “Is everything alright?”
“I think I got lost,” he said, a little sheepish.
“Scott… forgot to check in on him for a bit,” Shelby said.
“Ohh, Avid…”
“No, no it’s okay!” Avid said. He didn’t want her to be disappointed either. “I found my way back! There’s paint on me! And the lamp is green!” Shelby cracked a smile.
“Hey, that’s good!” Drift said. “That’s really good, and you know what, I’m pretty much wrapped up with stuff here, so I can start making my way over, but how about you tell me about what else there is in the meantime?”
He did. He told her about the plants, and the cushions with dots on them, and the film posters. About the tiny lights above the windowsills, and the painting he’d made (an odd little house, patchwork of two homes shared with two friends). He told her how the room smelled of dried flowers and fancy shampoo. He told her how when he moved his hand across his vision, the light changed with it. He told her about how he could hear cars outside, and she held the phone to a busker so he could listen.
And then she was there. And she took his hand, ruffling his hair, and delighting at the art he’d made. Shelby gave her a hug as they left. She gave him one too.
“How are you feeling?” she asked, as they stepped out of the building's side door, somewhere quieter they could walk, without as many people who may look too close at him he didn't want to upset anyone. Avid thought for a moment. Drift’s hand was still in his. The night air was cold. The busker she’d let him listen to still played around the corner.
“…Here,” he said at last. Then he smiled. “Yeah. Not all the way. But I’m here.”
She smiled back, squeezing his hand. “You’re here.”
And so was she.
The sunlight led the fractals home, and he hoped the world could see the colours dance.