fic ][ you make it real for me
The City | part one | part two
part three
The thing about The City was that it was powered by emotion, fear, and control. It looked like any worn down, war-torn place, but there was more to it than that. The City was policed by The Brigade, and The Brigade was under the direct hand of Harper Kane. Kane was the President of The City, and he had been ruling by oppression for more than twenty years. He was called President, but he was more of a dictator than anything else.
The City had never been an especially pleasant place even before his rise in power, but it had only gotten worse since. The City was a world that didn't expand further than itself, and the population dwindled more and more each decade because of it. Even Kane wasn't safe from the unseen monsters that truly took rule in The City. He and his Brigade, his entire government, were just pawns. The darkness that swept over everyone and controlled them, controlled everything. It made people angrier, more bitter, and capable of anything.
Did these people always exist there or were they once Intruders themselves? It wasn't a question allowed to be asked, because no one wanted to admit the possibility that they weren't native. To be an Intruder was to be filth, an automatic criminal. And there was only so much free-thinking the darkness would even let you do, so by that line, what says any thought had was really your own? It was brainwashing to the deepest degree.
So people didn't think. They didn't rebel or protest. The people of The City just lived, and survived, and tried to get by. To keep from becoming just like everyone else an Intruder needed a lot of luck, and to hold on tightly to the core of who they really were, because it was the only way to not let the darkness completely wear them down.
***
She hadn't moved in two days.
It had been two weeks since they found somewhere new to lay low, and the place was even smaller and darker than the last. Garrett hadn't been thrilled with it, but Parker didn't mind small spaces. In fact she had found it a little more comforting that way.
It was a room off of a basement of a dilapidated orphanage. The whole place reeked of age and neglect, and the worst part was that the orphanage was still in use. Kane didn't have the biggest regard for his citizens, and he cared even less of the lost children. It was likely that many of those children were Intruders or the children of Intruders, but they were young enough to forget and be made to forget who they once had been.
They had stumbled upon the building and the broken window to the basement before realizing what it was. The window had been in the back alley, and the basement was a cluttered mess. In the back of the basement, through a crawlspace, was a small room. Neither could guess what the room had been for, but they felt it was safe enough. It was clear that no one had ventured into that basement in years. Between the things down there and what Parker scavenged for, they had been able to make themselves a comfy little home. They could both reach to either side and touch the walls in their room, and there was just enough room to stand up. It was tight, but it was safe.
It took some time to settle in and stock up on some food, but then it was decided that they should stay in for awhile. It was then, when they were sitting still, that the weight of where they were had started to press in on her. She was remembering things, bits and pieces of her past that she didn't want to remember. She remembered being alone, abandoned, unwanted. There were things mixed in there with thanks to the darkness or, Ghosts as she still called them, that weren't real, but she couldn't tell the difference. It all felt real and it all felt like a piece of her. It all hurt the same way.
Garrett had tried to help her, but he began to not fare much better and got pulled into his own thoughts and memories.
Parker had sat up in one corner of their room, arms wrapped tight around her legs, and two days later she had hardly moved. In those two days she saw all of the bad, the ugly, the painful things that had existed in her life. She felt it. She was pulled down to a place that she didn't know how to get out of, and she didn't have anyone to pull her up for air.
She was allowed to briefly remember faces, and feelings attached to those faces, but then she was plunged into every bad feeling that could be associated with them. They circled around her so much that in the end those faces brought nothing but pain. Why had she wanted to go back so badly to those people she couldn't even name? They hurt. They made her hurt. There was nothing for her to go back to, no reason for it. She belonged where she was; alone and in pain.
Garrett wasn't as bad off, and at times he did try to pull her out of it. He tried to touch her arm, call her name, whisper to her. None of it worked. He didn't know what to do for her, because he was doubting himself as well. He wanted to pull her out for fresh air, but the air out there was just as toxic as it was in their room. It was the same air. They would never escape that air.
Maybe it was because the orphanage didn't hit him the way it did her, or maybe it was because he hadn't been in The City as long as she had, but he was able to fight the darkness off more. Two days had been enough. He knew if he didn't hold it together and snap her out of it that she might never come back. Not as the girl he knew. Ariel. Or whatever her real name was.
"Ariel," he murmured yet again. "Please talk to me."
She wouldn't. She sat in her corner, hugging her legs, shaking her head. Silent words spilled off her lips, but he couldn't make them out. He didn't think he wanted to anyway.
"I need you to talk to me," he tried. "I can't lose you now."
Her eyes closed tightly and she shook her head harder to shut him up. He fell silent and watched her. Every word he said sunk in, but until that moment they hadn't made much sense. They slowly started to come together in her head and she opened her eyes to look at him.
"You won't lose me," she whispered.
"This is frightening me," he admitted.
"You won't lose me," she said again. "Because I'm never going back."
Garrett moved to sit closer to her. "No, don't- You will. One day we'll both go back, and we'll forget this whole bloody place ever existed. We'll do it."
"Why?" Her head tilted and she studied him. "Why should we go back? There's....nothing good there."
"Yes there is, love. We can't remember what right now, but there is something for us to go home to. There is something and people that we've been fighting to get back to. I feel it, and I know you feel it too."
She closed her eyes again and rubbed the heels of her hands into her eyes hard. "All I remember is...hurting."
He reached out and stroked her hair gently. "It wants you to remember only that, but there's more. The look you get in your eyes when you talk about home, there's more. I see it. Try and remember."
At that point she couldn't remember enough to feel awkward by his touch, so she didn't pull away. She just rocked more as she thought as hard as she could. She pulled up the faces again and let out a soft cry at the pain they lit inside of her. Garrett shifted and wrapped his arm around her, and she curled against him.
"You can do it," he murmured against the top of her head.
The faces got clearer in her mind and the pain started to make her shake.
Alone, alone, left alone. Abandoned.
She couldn't trust anyone, it would only hurt more. She couldn't love anyone, because she didn't know how. She didn't want to know how. They all left in the end anyway.
"You can do it," he whispered again.
And his voice, and the voice of the person he reminded her of....
There was a flash of warmth. A smile. She remembered the smile, and the smile didn't hurt.
And his voice was the other voice, and it was saying something. It was saying something nice, and warm, and she liked the way it sounded from that voice.
Parker.
"Parker," she gasped out.
"What?"
"That's my name." The realization hit her hard, and she gripped onto him more. It felt so right, how could she have ever forgotten? She heard it so clearly in her mind. It sounded like that voice, that voice she had been trying to connect to for months. A woman's voice. She knew it, she felt it, but she still couldn't place it.
She pulled back a bit and looked up at Garrett. He was smiling down at her, and he hugged her tight. "Parker?" He tested the name out. "Parker." She let him pull her close again and sat there in a bit of shock still. "Okay," he nodded. "Parker it is." He smoothed her hair back from her face again. "See? You do remember something good."
"It's not enough," she said meekly, after several moments of silence.
"Then we'll find more."
part three
The thing about The City was that it was powered by emotion, fear, and control. It looked like any worn down, war-torn place, but there was more to it than that. The City was policed by The Brigade, and The Brigade was under the direct hand of Harper Kane. Kane was the President of The City, and he had been ruling by oppression for more than twenty years. He was called President, but he was more of a dictator than anything else.
The City had never been an especially pleasant place even before his rise in power, but it had only gotten worse since. The City was a world that didn't expand further than itself, and the population dwindled more and more each decade because of it. Even Kane wasn't safe from the unseen monsters that truly took rule in The City. He and his Brigade, his entire government, were just pawns. The darkness that swept over everyone and controlled them, controlled everything. It made people angrier, more bitter, and capable of anything.
Did these people always exist there or were they once Intruders themselves? It wasn't a question allowed to be asked, because no one wanted to admit the possibility that they weren't native. To be an Intruder was to be filth, an automatic criminal. And there was only so much free-thinking the darkness would even let you do, so by that line, what says any thought had was really your own? It was brainwashing to the deepest degree.
So people didn't think. They didn't rebel or protest. The people of The City just lived, and survived, and tried to get by. To keep from becoming just like everyone else an Intruder needed a lot of luck, and to hold on tightly to the core of who they really were, because it was the only way to not let the darkness completely wear them down.
***
She hadn't moved in two days.
It had been two weeks since they found somewhere new to lay low, and the place was even smaller and darker than the last. Garrett hadn't been thrilled with it, but Parker didn't mind small spaces. In fact she had found it a little more comforting that way.
It was a room off of a basement of a dilapidated orphanage. The whole place reeked of age and neglect, and the worst part was that the orphanage was still in use. Kane didn't have the biggest regard for his citizens, and he cared even less of the lost children. It was likely that many of those children were Intruders or the children of Intruders, but they were young enough to forget and be made to forget who they once had been.
They had stumbled upon the building and the broken window to the basement before realizing what it was. The window had been in the back alley, and the basement was a cluttered mess. In the back of the basement, through a crawlspace, was a small room. Neither could guess what the room had been for, but they felt it was safe enough. It was clear that no one had ventured into that basement in years. Between the things down there and what Parker scavenged for, they had been able to make themselves a comfy little home. They could both reach to either side and touch the walls in their room, and there was just enough room to stand up. It was tight, but it was safe.
It took some time to settle in and stock up on some food, but then it was decided that they should stay in for awhile. It was then, when they were sitting still, that the weight of where they were had started to press in on her. She was remembering things, bits and pieces of her past that she didn't want to remember. She remembered being alone, abandoned, unwanted. There were things mixed in there with thanks to the darkness or, Ghosts as she still called them, that weren't real, but she couldn't tell the difference. It all felt real and it all felt like a piece of her. It all hurt the same way.
Garrett had tried to help her, but he began to not fare much better and got pulled into his own thoughts and memories.
Parker had sat up in one corner of their room, arms wrapped tight around her legs, and two days later she had hardly moved. In those two days she saw all of the bad, the ugly, the painful things that had existed in her life. She felt it. She was pulled down to a place that she didn't know how to get out of, and she didn't have anyone to pull her up for air.
She was allowed to briefly remember faces, and feelings attached to those faces, but then she was plunged into every bad feeling that could be associated with them. They circled around her so much that in the end those faces brought nothing but pain. Why had she wanted to go back so badly to those people she couldn't even name? They hurt. They made her hurt. There was nothing for her to go back to, no reason for it. She belonged where she was; alone and in pain.
Garrett wasn't as bad off, and at times he did try to pull her out of it. He tried to touch her arm, call her name, whisper to her. None of it worked. He didn't know what to do for her, because he was doubting himself as well. He wanted to pull her out for fresh air, but the air out there was just as toxic as it was in their room. It was the same air. They would never escape that air.
Maybe it was because the orphanage didn't hit him the way it did her, or maybe it was because he hadn't been in The City as long as she had, but he was able to fight the darkness off more. Two days had been enough. He knew if he didn't hold it together and snap her out of it that she might never come back. Not as the girl he knew. Ariel. Or whatever her real name was.
"Ariel," he murmured yet again. "Please talk to me."
She wouldn't. She sat in her corner, hugging her legs, shaking her head. Silent words spilled off her lips, but he couldn't make them out. He didn't think he wanted to anyway.
"I need you to talk to me," he tried. "I can't lose you now."
Her eyes closed tightly and she shook her head harder to shut him up. He fell silent and watched her. Every word he said sunk in, but until that moment they hadn't made much sense. They slowly started to come together in her head and she opened her eyes to look at him.
"You won't lose me," she whispered.
"This is frightening me," he admitted.
"You won't lose me," she said again. "Because I'm never going back."
Garrett moved to sit closer to her. "No, don't- You will. One day we'll both go back, and we'll forget this whole bloody place ever existed. We'll do it."
"Why?" Her head tilted and she studied him. "Why should we go back? There's....nothing good there."
"Yes there is, love. We can't remember what right now, but there is something for us to go home to. There is something and people that we've been fighting to get back to. I feel it, and I know you feel it too."
She closed her eyes again and rubbed the heels of her hands into her eyes hard. "All I remember is...hurting."
He reached out and stroked her hair gently. "It wants you to remember only that, but there's more. The look you get in your eyes when you talk about home, there's more. I see it. Try and remember."
At that point she couldn't remember enough to feel awkward by his touch, so she didn't pull away. She just rocked more as she thought as hard as she could. She pulled up the faces again and let out a soft cry at the pain they lit inside of her. Garrett shifted and wrapped his arm around her, and she curled against him.
"You can do it," he murmured against the top of her head.
The faces got clearer in her mind and the pain started to make her shake.
Alone, alone, left alone. Abandoned.
She couldn't trust anyone, it would only hurt more. She couldn't love anyone, because she didn't know how. She didn't want to know how. They all left in the end anyway.
"You can do it," he whispered again.
And his voice, and the voice of the person he reminded her of....
There was a flash of warmth. A smile. She remembered the smile, and the smile didn't hurt.
And his voice was the other voice, and it was saying something. It was saying something nice, and warm, and she liked the way it sounded from that voice.
Parker.
"Parker," she gasped out.
"What?"
"That's my name." The realization hit her hard, and she gripped onto him more. It felt so right, how could she have ever forgotten? She heard it so clearly in her mind. It sounded like that voice, that voice she had been trying to connect to for months. A woman's voice. She knew it, she felt it, but she still couldn't place it.
She pulled back a bit and looked up at Garrett. He was smiling down at her, and he hugged her tight. "Parker?" He tested the name out. "Parker." She let him pull her close again and sat there in a bit of shock still. "Okay," he nodded. "Parker it is." He smoothed her hair back from her face again. "See? You do remember something good."
"It's not enough," she said meekly, after several moments of silence.
"Then we'll find more."