CH #12 - Aftermath of the Supernatural Assault

"Ugh… My head… What happened, and… Where am I?"

Opening his eyes, Ryan was shocked by the immense amount of white he could see. That was a completely unfamiliar space, so he could only wonder what being there could mean.

"Oh… He woke up…! Excuse me, I have to go and see him...!"

"I... I know that voice." He thought, still fighting valiantly against the throbbing pain in his head, which seemed to lessen with time, much to his delight.

And that's when a familiar figure entered the room, inviting itself to run with speed towards the bed he was lying on. Looking a little more deeply at all that, it was that he realized where he truly was.

That place was a hospital – full of white all around, lots of machinery imbued with the responsibility of maintaining human life when it reached a critical state, as well as desperate people wearing white and blue, running around with clipboards, bandages and other things.

The aseptic scent penetrated his nose sharply, almost like digging its way into his lungs—it was almost like smelling directly the inside of a bleach container.

"Ryan...! Oh my... Ryan...!" The person grabbed him, enveloping the guy in a deep hug.

"That... hurts a little." He replied, being interrupted by the sharp pain in his back.

That mere sign reminded him. From one second to the next, the Savoia found himself once again at the center of that whole scene that had unfolded apparently not so long ago. He had no idea about these things, so he couldn't say, but something inside told him that it had happened not so long ago... It was like a strange kind of intuition.

"The library fire… That crazy Jacob guy… Yeah, I think I can remember everything after all." He reflected, forgetting for a moment that powerful embrace that enveloped him as if there was no tomorrow.

Whispers of tearful relief reached his ears, and the young man felt that the person was shaking as they enveloped him – not in a bad way, though. Feeling compelled to return the gesture, he also welcomed her into his arms whose strength was lacking.

"Brother... I'm so glad you're okay...!" She revealed herself, using her chin as a sort of hook to attach to his right shoulder during the hug.

"Yeah, I am, Hannah." He felt himself smile a little. "Yes, I'm fine."

Looking the boy in the eye this time after the long hug, the young man's older sister smiled in the most satisfied way he had ever seen – it was a full, beautiful, whole smile – something filled with truth.

He raised his left arm, trying to wipe away the tears that were flowing there, and it was there that he noticed one more thing that he had been unaware of until that moment.

"My arm..." He tried to speak, but was soon interrupted by his sister's excited mood.

"I'm so glad you weren't hurt too much, Ryan...!" She spoke, in excitement and happiness. "When I found out what happened and the students started to arrive, I... I...!"

"It's okay, Hannah… It's okay. You don't have to force yourself." He brought his white bandaged hand to her shoulder. "I am here. I am fine. Breathe a little."

A few seconds passed before that explosion of emotions began to reach its end, and Hannah was once again seized by something that resembled, very vaguely, a semblance of calm.

"Better now?" He asked. "Can you tell me slowly what happened, please?"

"Yes... I think... I feel better, yes..." She confirmed, smiling at the easy-going way her brother dealt with problems. "I will explain everything that happened."

Ryan, careful not to evoke the pain in his back again, readjusted his position on what he realized was a gurney. Looking intently at the still crying Hannah, he put as much focus on listening as possible.

"It all started in the morning, around nine o'clock... a staff member warned us that the school where you study was on fire, and that they would potentially need to rescue many people... The problem was that... everything started to come up as... strange when the firefighters got there..."

"Strange...? How strange?" Playing dumb, Ryan questioned. "I really suspected the rescue was taking a while, but... I don't think I can say I noticed anything strange."

"Well... they said that, in addition to the fire, there was a strange infestation of insects... What they told us was that there was a curtain of bees that seemed to prevent anyone from entering the place, as well as weird bunches of bugs and stuff like that... It seems that in the end the swarm dispersed and let them in, but... I can't stop thinking about how weird it all was."

"I see... I may not have seen any of this, as I and a few others joined together to help others evacuate the places that caught fire... and well, that's how I got burned, in the end." Ryan created another convenient lie. "I got hit by a bookshelf that struck the exact middle of my back and a part of my sleeve started to catch fire… I will remember never to wear clothes made of that fabric again!"

Trying to make Hannah laugh a little, he let himself chuckle very lightly, which seemed to have some effect, given that she smiled too.

"In the end, we managed to get the people out and I was left in the infirmary… I think that ends the story, as far as I can remember."

On the outside, he looked confident, but Ryan was praying with all his might to whatever greater entity that was listening just so Hannah wouldn't try to validate his version of the story with any other students. The last thing he needed right now was conflicting statements.

"I need to come to terms with Ann about all of this... as well as thinking about how to clear Lindsey's and the others' minds of the memories of all this." he reasoned. "It's a good place to start."

"Hannah." He called for his sister, with a proposition to change the focus of the conversation. "And how are the others? Was there any casualty?"

Hannah understood well what her brother meant by "casualty," as that was just a milder term for asking how many died, or if there were any deaths. She took a deep breath, preparing to deliver an unwanted response.

"There were quite a bit. A total of eight students and seven members of the faculty and management core." We still don't have any official causa mortis for each, but I think I can say a thing or two..."

Noticing her brother's curious and at the same time permissive look, she let herself continue talking.

"I shouldn't be disclosing unofficial or unconfirmed information, but..." She approached him, speaking into his left ear. "Of the fifteen victims, at least six appeared to have been due to stampede, which while too morbid, could still be considered normal given all the chaos, but… The problem is, it doesn't end there."

Ryan felt the muscles in his face tense as she spoke.

"We found four other victims who appeared to have died from some strange type of general internal bleeding. They spurted blood from every possible orifice and... their mouths, noses and ears... were full of insect wings..."

The boy immediately linked these fatalities to the ability user capable of manipulating insects, which he was aware of as being Ann. Even now knowing the girl and gaining the awareness that she was not a bad person by any means, it still made him feel bad for those who had died.

"I'll make sure she knows that her actions caused it." Ryan thought. The Savoia knew that even though she had been forced to take that path, no one was there to make her do it that exact way. She didn't need to kill those people.

"Five people were found in this condition, and mysteriously one of them managed to survive... She is currently in the hospital ICU, literally fighting for her life, as is another girl... She appears to have severe motor damage, caused by something that strongly affected the nervous system."

"That damn Jacob…" Ryan felt the saliva in his mouth grow more bitter. "I think they must have rescued him too."

Ryan had to ask about that. He just had an obligation to ask that question.

"Hannah… By any chance, did you have any students with severe facial damage and two fingers missing from their right hand?"

The serious way Ryan asked that question made an indescribable chill cut through Hannah's back, who, unaware of what to answer, just silently nodded.

"We… we do, but… he was moved to Whitefish to receive more adequate care…" Hannah hesitated to provide the answer. "But… Why the question, brother…?"

Ryan's eyes widened as never before in his life at the mere thought of putting a risk like Jacob in the hands of any other location anywhere in the whole damn world. Now, the most destructive skill user he had ever seen was on the loose, ready to claim more victims...

"Dammit dammit dammit...!" Ryan gritted his teeth, thinking of the myriad possibilities. "I should have killed him when I had the chance…! I'm an incompetent...!"

"... Brother...?"

"And now he's on the loose...! And he can kill as many as he feels like! He's going to make a mess of Whitefish and it's all my fault for keeping him alive...! Damn it!"

"Brother!"

"Damn, damn it…! I had it all...! I had the knife and cheese in hand to end it at that moment...!"

"Ryan!"

Hannah's call brought him out of his heavy state of racing thoughts. The boy breathed heavily, thinking of all the things he could have done differently. But now, there was another problem – one he would take care of right now.

"Ryan…?" Hannah was surprised that Ryan had brought his hand to her forehead. "What you-"

"It was nothing, Hannah." His eyes glowed that shade of purple. "I didn't ask for anything."

In an instant, a bright purple flash cut the Savoia's gaze, and in a mere blink of an eye, all sign of that earlier conversation had been erased, as if it had never been brought to life.

Ryan took a couple of deep breaths, trying to calm himself in face of the morbid new discovery. Jacob will undoubtedly cause a lot of trouble as soon as he wakes up, but that's something beyond his competence to act… Not that it absolves Ryan of rightful responsibility, though.

"Oh...! I almost forgot...!" Hannah's conscience was illuminated by a question. "Looks like we have a girl that showed feverish symptoms here at the hospital. She is still resting and is quite tired – probably sleeping now – but at least her fever seems to have gone down."

"Emily's fever has gone down?!"

... ... ...

The way he yelled the question and almost looked like he wanted to jump out of bed made Hannah freak out a little. Ryan didn't tend to be very emotional about this sort of thing, so she didn't expect him to react that way.

"Now that I recall it… her name actually is Emily, if I'm not mistaken... Wait, do you two know each other?!"

"Uh, well… yes. She was the girl I met at the library on Saturday."

"Oh, I see...I see...!" Hannah's mood changed as she brought her hand to her chin. "Seeing my brother worried about a girl… I never thought this day would come…! Oh, they grow up so fast!"

"Don't start getting weird ideas about it." Ryan dismissed that notion. "I'm just curious about her condition. Emily is a good friend, so it's only natural for me to be worried, isn't that correct?"

The fact was, hearing that she had successfully passed through the fever period was quite the news. Considering that the vast majority of those infected by the mysterious disease spread through the envelopes die, having a survivor could only mean one thing.

"It's a little early to think about that, but... I have to plan on what to do in case Emily is compatible with whatever makes those abilities come up."

Now he had three tasks to think about, and that mass only promised to increase as unwanted new things were added to the list. Ryan didn't want to think that way, but if he had to deal with Emily in a violent way at some point, he wouldn't know how to proceed.

… And that's exactly why he knew bringing the girl to his side would be a paramount move.

Hannah smiled inwardly, and it showed a little on the outside. Knowing that her brother had made friends in this new town was the perfect thing to lighten some of the heavy atmosphere that all that tragedy had generated.

She knew that her brother was never able to maintain friendships thanks to the constant address changes, and that it was one of the reasons he was such a sad person. Ryan didn't want to show it, but she was fully aware of what her younger brother thought about all that.

He always tried to mask things. Ryan was never the type to be too honest with his feelings about it, making excuses such as "it's okay" or telling her she shouldn't worry about it since it didn't bother him.

But of course it made a difference, as she remembered well the times before all of that happened. As a child, Ryan was more outgoing and open, more honest when it came to himself, and above all, much more social and even extroverted. 

It all started after the amnesia.

Quickly, her brother changed. He remained the caring, loyal and loving person he always was, but that became more distant – more detached and observant. Ryan became quiet, contemplative and thoughtful about things around him. He started talking less, preferring to be alone in his spare time and other things she would never have imagined seeing him do.

And even though deep down he was still the same good person he always was, she both felt and could point out – there was something wrong with her brother – something he refused to let her know, but which Hannah even so was completely sure of what it was.

He didn't open up to her or anyone else about it, yet she never needed any verbal cues, as the sights said it all. He didn't want to be pressured into answering, and Hannah respected that, not asking any questions while letting him know she'd be there for when the urge to do so eventually arose. When he wants to talk about it, she would listen.

But then again, that was not the time. However, that was the first time the older sister thought about how it was okay not to be that time.

At all other times Ryan had no one else, and knowing that was no longer the case made her at least a little happier. Make no mistake – she still wished and asked for the day he would finally tell her so she could hear it – but knowing that he could count on someone else to do it, even if that person wasn't her, made Hannah feel better when it came to everything that concerned him.

Seeing her brother silently suffering with an identity crisis – with not being able to identify any of the people who loved him, and not even himself as a person – Hannah was unable to tell, but only imagining the feeling of not being able to find herself in the world and of the incapacity to place herself in the world, to be a person with no history…

"It must be so confusing and painful…" She tought, facing her brother.

She still remembered with great pain the first thing he'd asked when he'd woken up from that coma... that damn question she couldn't bring herself to blame him for asking... that damn "Who are you?" that escaped through his lips.

In that moment, the only thing that consumed her was the desire to destroy whatever had done that to her brother – the thing that also took her father's life on the same day Ryan was found unconscious in the ruins of the university's lab.

They couldn't connect. It took several days for Ryan to get used to his own name, and gradually to the notion that the two women were, in fact, his mother and sister, and after that, give it several more weeks before the levels of communication between them began to reach a level that could be considered minimally acceptable.

For Hannah, having to throw away an entire past for a new reality was almost like having to kill her own brother, only to allow him to live again. It was – and still is – a painful process whose suffering she would never completely be capable of abandoning.

So, after all that, knowing that in this place he had found a chance to go back to being someone minimally normal... It filled her heart with immense satisfaction.

Before leaving for her shift looking after the students, Hannah hugged her brother one more time, to reassure him, even without words, that she would always be there for him.

"I love you, brother."

"Me too, Hannah. I love you too."

***

And just like that, she left, leaving him to rest after all that hard day. He might not want her to know the real reason behind those injuries, but she was well aware of it.

"I know why you don't want to tell me, brother. You think I know nothing about it." She thought, arranging tapes and bandages. "But I know everything. I know about your powers, and the things you can do, and I know that you did what you could when it all happened."

In the end, Ryan wasn't fooling anyone. Hannah knew – she always did, but preferred to let her brother think he was managing to keep some secret. She routinely blamed herself for acting so negligent, after all, had Hannah never asked anything – the day he showed up all hurt at home? She just shrugged it off and bandaged the wounds.

And now? Just accepted the things he said without question. That was just to make him think she didn't know any bit of it. In the end, it was better this way.

"I better keep playing the silly sister role, as trying to stop him will only worsen the relationship between us. For now, it's best to remain this permissive and somewhat neglectful sister and pretend I'm a 'normal person'."

That was the ICU room. On the stretcher, a girl with signs of high neural damage, caused by some kind of shock that primarily affected this system of her body. She was unconscious, and if left unattended, she would never walk or move again in her life, being condemned to live the remainder of her days as a motionless dummy, thrown on a bed.

"No one can help in this case." Hannah spoke to herself, given that no one else was there. "No ordinary one can."

The older Savoia held out her right hand, studying the long fingernails painted a pale pink. It only took a mere moment for her to see that glow – the purple reflection of her eyes lighting up – showing on the five surfaces.

"I can." She muttered, dropping her hand to the girl's forehead.

Like Ryan, Hannah Savoia was not normal – no one in that family could call themselves 'normal'. Keeping secrets under secrets, the slightly older Savoia hid the skill that allowed her to become a prodigy in her profession.

She called that power [Panacea] – it was a symbolic name, but significant enough given the specific effects of that ability; it was the name of the much-sought-after "all-healing medicine" that the alchemists of antiquity aimed at with bright eyes but never came close to achieving.

Essentially, the power she hid was capable of miraculously halting the progress of any health condition – ranging from a simple cold to terminal cancer. Any patient who is touched by Hannah's apparently blessed hands immediately experiences an improvement in their condition.

In addition, people exposed to her healing touch experience a spontaneous increase in their recovery curves — in some ways, it was almost a miracle. In a matter of a few days, or even hours, the individual would return to an ideal state of health. A person condemned to the arms of death could return to normal with just a touch from the nurse.

"So your name is Emily, huh?"

Moving away from the first girl, she approached the second, who was put to sleep by sheer exhaustion, while still agonizing in fever. Hannah had lied to him about her getting better.

 "Please… be kind to my brother, will you?"

As soon as she looked at Emily, Hannah could tell – that girl would die right there. Emily had no natural compatibility with the thing causing these symptoms, so there was little they could do but let her die.

... Or at least that's considering the nurse wasn't there. Hannah took a syringe and needle from among the various materials. The object was empty of any content, but would soon find itself filled when the Savoia nurse, in a course of action that would be unexpected to the limit, pierced herself with it.

"My blood must be enough... I am a universal donor, after all." Pushing through the pain, Hannah drew a portion of her blood.

Her blood was O−, meaning that it is accepted by essentially any body without any risk of rejection, so it shouldn't generate any reaction. In one swift movement, she then applied the contents to Emily's arm, which was burning with fever.

"I know it hurts, but it's just for a minute..." She said. "It's going to be okay now. I won't let you die."

She pulled the needle along with the empty syringe, appropriately discarding both. That strange maneuver for a professional nurse had been nothing short of the biggest favor the brown-haired, pale-skinned girl could receive – it was the very chance to keep on living.

"It's gonna be okay. Your body must develop compatibility by itself now."

***

"Shit, shit, shit...!"

If he could, he would go back there and solve the whole situation in such a way as to generate the response he had so hoped to have received from all his years of training.

"I haven't changed at all... I haven't improved at all...!"

If he could, he would try again, and again, and again... he would try until he couldn't take it anymore, until he fell after having his soul corroded by the countless times he stood up.

"I trained so much... I did so much... I lived through so much shit..."

If he could, he would have tried harder on his journey. If he could, he would have remembered some more of his real reason for living through it all. If he could, he wouldn't have strayed so far from the path he'd decided to take that rainy, cold day.

"I thought... I thought I got stronger... I thought I was more capable now... I thought... that I would make it...!"

That night—that cold, rainy night—was the night he promised that everything would change. It was that night that he swore he would have his revenge for everything that happened there.

"...But in the end I didn't do anything... I didn't change at all...! I'm still the same incompetent I was before... The same piece of trash that let it happen and didn't do a damn thing about it...!"

If he could...

Frustration with himself made him jump off the white bed, trying to ignore any pain.

"SHI-...!"

... ... ...

Fall. His consciousness swung around on its axis as if he were inside a rocket flying in circles. Another second, and he was down on the soft surface again. He lacked the strength to even scream.

An immense tiredness consumed his whole being. Looking to the side, he watched as, little by little, a solution of something was released into his veins through a needle. Drop by drop, that mixture joined his blood, filling it.

But soon, he would empty himself again. Turning to his side, the boy with dark hair as coal and eyes as red as the blood that generates life, let the rivers of his suffering flow onto the pillow.

Even after all that time—seven years, to be exact—he was still weak. What he once dared to call 'strength' wasn't even enough to defeat some brute girl who got in his way...

... If he couldn't even do that, how could he finish his self-imposed task? How could he follow through on his promise to himself?

"I need to get stronger... Even more... More strength... That's what I need... Just keep getting stronger."

Using what little strength he had, he guided his right arm, wiping away the tears.

"Now I see where I went wrong… I've been too lax with all of this. I haven't put in enough effort."

More determination, more desire, more growth... more strength. That's what he needed. "Power" – the only word that ruled his mind at the moment. He could give his own soul just to have more Power.

Only with Power could he be able to finish what he wanted to start, and then finally get where he wanted to go all these years.

A new focus had sprung into his mind—a goal, something bigger. Now, he had once again found himself on the path he had left, thinking he was good enough. And it was time to start tracing it again.

"I'm going to make her pay, old man... and I'm not going to stop until I can do it... no matter how many times they push me down, or how many of them band together to stop me... and throw me to the ground..."

He stared at his own fists. From one second to the next, it was as if all the weakness in his body had disappeared without a trace. That was Power, but it still wasn't enough… It was far from enough.

"I'll come back... I'll always come back and finish each one of them... until I get to her, and be sure to see as it finally comes the time for her to fall, too."

Looking a little to the yet unseen other side, the boy saw a chair, and sitting on it, a known person sleeping with her head resting on his stretcher. She was exhausted, and just the fact that she hadn't woken up to him talking to himself like crazy or moving around so much indicated that.

Looking at it made him think a little more, and he decided to stay there for a little longer and quieten down, just to not wake her up.

He closed his eyes, letting sleep catch up again.

... ... ...

The only thing he didn't consider was that she, perhaps, could have been awake all the time, listening to every word, attentive to every sob he tried to hide, and holding back from crying too.

"Why did you never tell me, Cast…?"

***

It was afternoon and the sun came through the gap in the door when she opened it. In the living room, only the darkness was partially disturbed by the worried expression of a person who was following what the television reporter was stating about the whole situation that had occurred at the forgotten school in that town of Montana.

The area had been completely surrounded by the authorities, and after the removal of everyone inside the building, the place would undergo countless forensics and investigations to discover the cause of the fire and the alleged fifteen deaths that took place inside.

Fact is, if the person who was waiting so anxiously in the room could, she would certainly be there, praying for the well-being of the one who walked through the door.

"Phoebe...! My Phoebe...! Oh God...!"

There wasn't even time for her to announce her arrival, as that person – her mother – jumped on the little girl with so much excitement and concern that it could have been considered frightening.

"My daughter... My daughter is fine...!" Enveloping the little girl in that hug so tight, she swung her little girl around in the air with all the happiness in the world. "My Phoebe...!"

Weakly, the girl returned her mother's embrace, forcing a smile onto her acne-ridden face, filled with pimple scars.

"I'm fine, mom." She spoke, rather calmly.

"Are you sure?! Are you not hurt? Didn't get hurt anywhere?!"

"I'm sure of it, mom. I am fine."

The woman, so identical to her if not for significantly greater stature, hugged her once more with the same disposition as the first time.

"My daughter… You are my everything, you are my life! I… I was so worried…." Her eyes began to water. "I love you, daughter... I love you so much, my Phoebe...!"

But while her mother was at the peak height of her contentment at the news that nothing had happened, the same couldn't be said for Phoebe herself.

She was thoughtful. That situation from earlier had left her like that; when she chose to ignore the pleas for help from that girl who had never done anything for her before.

What must have happened to her? She looked so desperate at that moment… The way her broken gaze, melting into heavy, endless tears, cried out for her support, for some flicker of the light Becky Sanders always brought within herself…

"No. I won't keep thinking about it. Doing nothing was really the best choice. That girl never cared about me, so I shouldn't care about her. I don't even know her...!"

Yes. It was just fair. An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth... help for help, ignorance for ignorance. This is how it should be.

... So... Why did she still feel so bad about leaving her to fend for herself, even though she was under no obligation to help?

"O- Okay... You don't need to tell me anything now, daughter... We can talk about this another time..." Ms. Martinez supported her daughter. "By now, I think you must be hungry, yes? ... Let's... let's get something to eat in the kitchen...!"

"Uh? Oh... of course...! Yes, let's go!" Being pulled from her thoughts, Phoebe responded with the first thing that came to mind.

"I brought a vanilla cake from the bakery! Your favorite flavor!" She announced in a high mood, almost dancing towards the kitchen as she sang in bliss.

Faintly, seeing that made her smile a little and in a genuine way. Even if it was just a slight smile, it was able, if only for the moment, to make her forget for a while about the whole silly dilemma.

Yes, it would be better to just forget about this pointless nonsense.

"When I saw this cake, I immediately thought of you! I thought 'my daughter deserves this for being such a good girl since always!' and then I bought it! So, do you like it?"

Phoebe's eyes widened and her lips parted as she stared at the beautifully decorated white cake, covered in sliced ​​strawberries.

"Let's have a slice, shall we?"

... ... ...

"Phoebe…? Why are you crying, daughter?"

"It's nothing, Mom... Nothing." She waved her hand in front of her face. "I just... It's just that I love you, Mom..."

The two let each other be captured in a third long embrace within that short period of time. The mother caught her daughter's tears, joining them with her own as she alternated which of the two faces was dried at each time.

"You are my pride and joy, Phoebe... the greatest love of my life... and the most beautiful thing this unfair life has ever given me; my greatest treasure... I love you with all my heart, my only daughter."