The girl shook her head. “It’s too late for me, they’re going to get me whether you’re here or gone. But I can hold them off long enough for you to get home.”
“That doesn’t matter.” Things whirled, and suddenly they were in a small cabin, shadows whirling around outside, battering at the door. “I won’t leave you.”
“You have to go,” Michael said. The door started to creak inwards, and Michael’s short, dark hair rippled in a breeze that swept into the room, smelling of rot and scum. “You have to go, because I love you, and because you couldn’t save me.” The room got darker, a window breaking inwards and tendrils of shadow reaching in through it. “You could have saved me, Ronan! You left me and I died!” Shifting rapidly between Michael and Michaela, the shapeshifter stepped forward, reaching for Ronan. “You could have saved me! You were just too selfish, wanting to go home instead of staying with me. We could have had a life together! I loved you, Ronan!”
From what Ronan had told her about Michela, Isabel was pretty that this was just the fever talking. And even if it wasn't, there was no reason for him to have to go through this.
"Ronan," she said quietly, trying to step forward. "Ronan, it's Isabel. Listen to me..."
Ronan fell back, collapsing to the floor. “No, no, you told me to- I tried to save you, but you pushed me away!”
“You could have tried harder! You could have decided to stay with me, and not gone looking for the way home in the first place! If we’d stayed, if we’d not gone looking for it, I’d be alive now!”
The shadows burst into the room, swirling around, and Ronan cast about for something, anything, that would help him, his hands scrabbling around for purchase, but nothing came.
"Isabel?" Ronan's voice was weak, but in a way decidedly unlike that of his physical, sick self. "Isabel, the shadows... and Michaela! I've got to save Michaela!"
"It's a dream," she said softly. "You're sick and you're just having a bad dream. I'm sorry." For what she wasn't sure. That it happened in the first place, or that he had to live through it again with the fever's nasty twist.
"A dream?" The words seemed to focus Ronan's mind, and suddenly he was standing, and the cabin was empty save for he and Isabel. "... A dream." And then they were elsewhere, in familiar surroundings: he was seated at the front desk of the clinic, steaming cups of hot chocolate sitting in front of him on the desk.
"Good," Ronan said. "I don't know how long I'd have been caught up in that if you hadn't come along. How'd this happen, anyway? One of your crazy alien powers?"
The clinic wavered for a moment, a flash of the shadowed cabin coming back, accompanied by a deathly screeching. "... I..." Ronan's eyes were wide, and suddenly he was shivering. "... Isabel, something happened, didn't it? Something bad. Wyatt wouldn't tell me, but..."
The clinic wavered again. "I... I don't think I can," he said, his voice weak again, scared. The cabin kept coming back, longer, more frequent flashes, until it was alternating with the clinic every few seconds. "I... Michaela! No! I..." He focused as hard as he could, his effort visible upon his face, and the clinic stabilised. "Isabel, what happened? I- I need to know."
Isabel looked around, confused, until she heard the name and remembered who she'd been sitting with.
Oh crap..., she thought. This won't be good.
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“That doesn’t matter.” Things whirled, and suddenly they were in a small cabin, shadows whirling around outside, battering at the door. “I won’t leave you.”
“You have to go,” Michael said. The door started to creak inwards, and Michael’s short, dark hair rippled in a breeze that swept into the room, smelling of rot and scum. “You have to go, because I love you, and because you couldn’t save me.” The room got darker, a window breaking inwards and tendrils of shadow reaching in through it. “You could have saved me, Ronan! You left me and I died!” Shifting rapidly between Michael and Michaela, the shapeshifter stepped forward, reaching for Ronan. “You could have saved me! You were just too selfish, wanting to go home instead of staying with me. We could have had a life together! I loved you, Ronan!”
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"Ronan," she said quietly, trying to step forward. "Ronan, it's Isabel. Listen to me..."
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“You could have tried harder! You could have decided to stay with me, and not gone looking for the way home in the first place! If we’d stayed, if we’d not gone looking for it, I’d be alive now!”
The shadows burst into the room, swirling around, and Ronan cast about for something, anything, that would help him, his hands scrabbling around for purchase, but nothing came.
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"Ronan, come on, it's Isabel. Listen to me. I want to talk to you."
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"You were having a dream, a nightmare, and I wound up in the middle of it." Even though she'd tried to prevent a situation like this from happening.
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"Think you can wake up now? I'll get you more water or a blanket or something."
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As much as she hated to leave him, Isabel forced herself to wake-up.
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