hindsight is 20/20 [log → fin.]
who: Chris (
nottwiceblessed), Hamlet (
dramatic_orange) and Yuan (
cloakand_danger).
what: An attempt to cheat the Castle gone verrry wrong.
when: Earlier today. Definitely before Gaara's party.
where: Room 710.
warnings: Er... none? Crazy mun ideas are crazy? Also, long log is long.
Hamlet sat on his bed, staring at his broken A-Ts that lie on the floor below. He hadn't wanted to walk, or go anywhere-- not without the A-Ts, and especially when that Marluxia character could still be running around and ready to give him another beating. If he went anywhere, it would be armed with something blunt, and several smaller things that he could throw.
But, staying cooped up made him think about things he'd been told time and time again not to worry about. Things like MacBeth, and how he would react to finding out Hamlet remembered nothing about him. 'If he'd get pissed off, then he's not a good friend'... Was that true? Hamlet thought it wasn't, but he didn't have anything other than gut instinct to tell him so. What if he really was horrible to him? What if Hamlet had been in a terrible position prior to Paradisa...?
He wanted to know... He had to know..
Sitting in one of the more comfortable chairs in the room, Chris leaned back against the plush and pulled his legs up a little higher, bringing the print of the book in his lap into better focus. He glanced over the top of his knees and saw Hamlet, who was still where he had been when Chris first came back to the room hours earlier. He'd barely moved or acknowledged the presence of the Whitelighter or even his own kitten. What unnerved him the most was that Chris knew the boy's voice was back by this point, having been proven by the quiet greeting when he'd first come in.
The problem now was that, even with his voice back, Hamlet wasn't talking. Chris furrowed his brows a bit, then turned back to his book. By all rights, it shouldn't have been his problem. Let Sparkles figure it out on his own time. Chris didn't need to interfere and he shouldn't have been feeling so guilty about not trying to do anything about it either.
But the room was just so quiet...
Sighing, Chris set the book aside and leaned his arms and most of his weight on the armrest of the chair, shifting so as to make himself more comfortable. Whatever was going on, he wanted to be prepared to sit for the long haul -- also in hopes that the casual stance would keep Hamlet from taking something Chris might say the wrong way again. "Alright, Sparkles," he said. "What's wrong?"
Hamlet closed his eyes, hearing Chris speak. He was silent for a while, whether it was from lack of will to speak, still feeling a bit sick, feeling that he didn't want to be yelled at... But, he knew what happened when he didn't speak up, and he told Chris he wouldn't do it anymore.
".. The same thing... that won't go away."
The reply was quiet, weak, as if his voice hadn't come back all the way or wasn't used to being used yet. But, it was there, it was honest, and Chris had the right to scold him for it again.
Chris frowned, having to lean in ever so slightly to even hear the answer. He leaned back a bit afterwards and could only tilt his head and ask, "What same thing?" Honestly, with all the things and emotions the teen burned through at whatever rate, it was hard to keep up. That wasn't to say Chris didn't have an idea, but he was going in cautiously.
Hamlet reached to the side of him, pulling out a single picture of him and MacBeth-- he'd hidden it there when Chris had come in, and had since just thought about the same things with the mental image of the photograph burned into his mind. He tossed it just right, and it cut through the air and landed at the base of the chair.
"That same thing..."
Shifting, Chris reached in front of the chair and pulled up the picture to see. It was Hamlet and that kid with the funny ponytail goofing about. He remembered seeing it around Christmas time when Hamlet had first found them.
"You mean your loss?" he asked, glancing back to Hamlet again.
Hamlet nodded silently, not looking at Chris. He wasn't looking at anything, really, and it was rather obvious due to the glazed-over, blank look in his eyes. If it weren't for the gentle, easy movement his body went through with each and every breath he took, one could have thought him dead.
Chris tossed the picture over to the small table in front of the chair, where a small stack of books currently made its home. He frowned and leaned back, again shifting his position. Exhaling, he realized that this was probably something Hamlet wouldn't be able to easily pull himself out of. Chris was sure he could empathize on plenty of levels, but he was too reluctant to go mucking about the darker parts of his mind when someone else needed him to attempt to comfort him that way.
Crossing his arms, he sat that way for a few moments, before finally asking, "What, Sparkles? What have you been thinking about so much over this? I mean, you can't just be thinking about how you can't think of things you don't remember."
Hamlet stayed quiet, trying to figure out how to word it. It was hard, these feelings he was dealing with. Guilt, caring, longing... Overbearing amounts of each made it difficult to sleep, eat, move... All the energy he had was going to keeping himself from crying over it. He cried too much, he thought...
"... I... If he came back... Something tells me he really would be upset... And you're right, how could I be such close friends with someone who would get angry at me for the castle taking away my memory....? I don't understand it. I'm so confused... The memories I'm missing have to be the ones that would fill in these holes..."
"So," Chris asked, "you think... getting your memories back would solve everything?"
Chris could tell he was frowning. It wasn't at Hamlet, but the thought growing in his mind. He couldn't really be thinking--it had Personal Gain written all over it! However... what if it worked and the consequence was only temporary, like the time before? He shook his head a little, trying to rid himself of the thoughts. It was ridiculous, and way too risky to be viable... whether Hamlet felt like he needed the memories or not.
Hamlet hugged his knees, burying his face in them. "I know... I can't get them back... So, even if he comes, even if he tells me everything... I'll only have stories that I wish I could have experienced... It won't bring back anything, and I won't be able to see the event, hear the laughter and voices of the times we spent together... I don't know... I just don't know what to do anymore..." Hamlet was shaking at this point, his voice sounding hurt and strained.
Was he crying again...?
Wincing, Chris reluctantly pulled himself out of the chair and came a bit closer to the bed. "Hey..." He sat down on the edge farthest from Hamlet, not wanting to startle the boy or get in his personal space. "Come on, don't... It's not your fault."
"I know it's not..." He said quietly, voice shaky. "But I can't do anything about it... I can't fix it. What if I mean more to him than I think I do? What if he meant more to me...? It would break him... No matter how stubborn, it would... hurt him." Hamlet tightened the grip on his knees, tensing up and shaking. "I don't know much.. but I know that that's the last thing I want to happen!"
Chris sat back and turned silent. Frowning, he looked down to the floor and shook his head. He wasn't going to say anything. The idea was so far-fetched and impossible. But... when did that ever stop a Halliwell from doing what she (or he) thought was right? The consequences would be severe, Castle intervention or not. Watching the hurting boy for a moment, Chris exhaled and looked away. "There... may be something I can do about that," he murmured, not entirely sure whether it was the right thing to say or not.
Hamlet, still shaking, very slowly lifted his head. The tears were falling, though not as hard as they'd been before. "You could... How could you... But...?" Hamlet couldn't think of anything to say. Would Chris-- could Chris actually do that...? He didn't know that he could believe it. Just how much was he capable of...?
"It's complicated, but..." Chris shrugged. "Yeah, maybe? I mean, there's always the chance of it backfiring, but if I word it right, we might be able to get off with something minimal." He tilted his head to Hamlet and raised his brows. "But you have to stop crying and--I'd need to make some preparations."
Hamlet tried to smile. Chris would actually do that for him...? ".. Yeah..." He let his knees down, and he wiped his eyes, trying to calm himself down enough using the fact that there was a chance that he could get his memories back. He found himself smiling a bit, and soon he had stopped crying. "What preparations... do we need to make?"
"I need to write a spell," Chris said, getting up from the bed abruptly and moving over to the stack of books. He pulled out a notepad and pencil, along with his journal, which had been stuck in one of the other books as an impromptu bookmark. "And I need to figure out whether a physical medium would help in something like this. ... and we may need some help," he added quietly, flipping open the journal.
Hamlet thought for a moment, and Hitsu-chan jumped up to climb into his lap, curling up. He pet her as he thought of what to do. "... Help... Who can we ask...?" Riku had done too much for him already, and if this proved dangerous, he didn't want him there. Vergil was a possibility, but he didn't like Chris much... and he owed Tex, and adding to his debt wouldn't be intelligent. Perhaps Chris knew someone...?
"I've already got someone in mind," Chris assured, writing something quick and simple: Can you swing by my room for a little while? There's something I was wondering if you could help me with. He filtered it in the regular manner, then left the journal open before turning to the notepad and starting to think of a rhyme.
Yuan stared at the message in his journal for a moment, questions flitting through his mind. What could Chris need his help with, that he couldn't or wouldn't ask for directly? Was there some kind of trouble?
Well, finding out wouldn't be difficult. He jotted down a reply, I'll be right there, then left quickly, striding down the hall until he stood in front of Chris and Hamlet's door. He paused for just a moment, to listen for any sounds of struggle within, then knocked firmly.
Hamlet perked up, and looked at the door. Chris was busy, he himself could get the door. Was it who Chris had called...? He stood, walking over and grabbing the knob to pull the door open. He peeked outside, looking up at Yuan, then stepping back and glancing over at Chris, opening the door more. Where he would normally be energetic and friendly, he was in no position for acting. This was serious, right?
Chris glanced up when someone knocked on the door. There was only one person it could have been and, closing his eyes for a moment, he reached out with his senses just to make sure. Seeing Hamlet answering the door by the time he had opened his eyes, Chris shrugged and went back to his spell composition. He still couldn't decide whether using crystals would have a positive or negative effect when amplifying the magic...
Distractedly, he gave a half-nod to Yuan and said, "Hey, thanks for coming."
Yuan stepped into the room. "Of course," he said. "...What's going on?" He looked over the young man who'd opened the door. "You must be Hamlet," he added. "I don't think we've met properly; I'm Yuan."
Hamlet smiled, nodding to him, then bowing only slightly dramatically.... slightly. Just a smidge. "It's a pleasure to finally meet you face-to-face~" He said respectfully, standing up straight and then taking a seat on his bed.
Chris gestured Yuan inside, motioning to one of the chairs or his own bed for the other man to sit on. "We're trying to see if it's possible to get Hamlet's loss back," he explained, still scribbling away. "But magic here is even more unpredictable than back home, so I was hoping that if something went wrong... maybe you could help stop the spell before it went into full effect?"
"And yourself as well," Yuan replied to Hamlet, returning the bow with a similar gesture of his own. He then considered Chris' words. "I'll do what I can," he said. "It will be interesting to see your magic in action." He wondered what sort of consequences spell failure might have; in his world, usually there would be mana backlash, but he recalled Chris being split into two different people and claiming it was because of a backfired spell, so clearly the rules were different.
Hamlet tried to remember the last time he'd seen a spell of Chris's. He remembered what he was pretty sure was the only time-- when he removed all the snow from the rooftop with his magic. That had been one of most awe-inspiring sights he'd ever witnessed, and now was going to see more. But just how much would he be seeing...? Would he be seeing just a fizzling spell, a fiery backlash, or the laughter and voice of his best friend...?
"It's nothing special," Chris said, ripping out the page he'd pretty much covered in lead by now. He pointed the eraser of his pencil at the ceiling and asked, "Can I get like a crystal? Oh--make it a quartz," he added quickly. On the table, a large crystal materialized itself and he gave it a speculative look. "This might work..." he murmured.
Standing up, Chris scanned the paper one last time. "Alright, um, so usually spells work instantaneously, but I figure if I channel it through the crystal, there would be time to stop the magic if something went wrong." He nodded over to Yuan. "That's where you come in. You're electrokinetic, right?"
Yuan smirked a bit, amused. "That's one way of putting it, I suppose," he acknowledged. "So...you want me to shock you if something goes wrong?" This was hardly what he'd had in mind when he came down, but now he had to admit to being intrigued. Besides, it was always a good idea to have a third party on hand when trying experimental magic.
Hamlet closed his eyes for a moment, stifling the question that might make Chris stop. He wouldn't ask if it would hurt, he wouldn't ask what the dangers were... He wanted his memories back, wanted to know MacBeth, to be able to actually feel correct remorse, not guilt...
Chris glanced over to Hamlet to make sure he was following, but seeing his eyes closed, it was hard to read him. Turning back to Yuan, he shook his head and couldn't help but feel amused. "I was thinking you more try zapping this," he said, picking up the crystal and holding it near head-level. "But if that really doesn't work, you'll probably have to move on and try me instead." Moving over to an open space on the floor, he sat down cross-legged and put the quartz a small space in front of him, waving both Hamlet and Yuan over. "You still up for it?"
Yuan nodded, instinctively extending his senses so that he'd be able to feel what was going on more clearly. "I'm ready whenever the two of you are," he said calmly, settling into a focused state. Whatever might happen, he'd be prepared to get them out of it. For a moment, he regretted not being able to teleport any longer, but quickly brushed the thought aside; he didn't need to be distracted by wishful thinking right now.
Hamlet obeyed Chris, sitting down and giving him a slightly uneasy look. He was a bit afraid... but it didn't matter. He'd come out of it one way or another. "... I'm ready..." He said, keeping his eyes on Chris so that he didn't close them. If he did, he was afraid he'd back out, and he didn't want to do that... He would regret never having tried.
Chris nodded, setting the paper out on his knees and rolling his shoulders. "Let's get this over with." He exhaled and began to chant.
The Power of Three, this may not be,
But save this child much misery.
While the Castle may say this will not be,
Return to Hamlet his memory.
The quartz in front of them started to glow, a mist of energy swirling about it and expanding to surround both Hamlet and Chris, at first in peaceful, lazy loops and circles. Soon, however, the light start to form more into wisps and lashed out at each rotation. Chris could feel his own magic interacting with that of the spell, and it was starting to go wildly out of control. Apprehensively, he glanced to Yuan and grit, "Cut if off, I can't get it to stop."
Yuan didn't need to be told twice - the mana filling the room was going wild. He pointed at the crystal and shot a bolt of lightning at it, trying to disrupt the energy at its source.
Immediately, he thought it might have been a bad idea. The extra burst of energy disrupted the spell, all right, but the effect was violent. A powerful shockwave rushed out from the crystal, knocking Yuan backward.
Hamlet gasped at the feeling of the magic, but something... wasn't right. His head began to hurt, and the energy was sparking and lashing out. It wasn't working. He could feel his memories, just beyond reach... Those holes with just a little bit filled, but... no. It slipped away when the spell was disrupted, and the shockwave sent him flying. He yelped, hitting the wall and crying out in pain-- his body hadn't healed all the way from the two days before.
And then.. he started to see things. Memories that weren't his world, nor his home. What was going on...? Memories of people he didn't know, and then a flashing-by memory that involved a face he did recognize-- Piper...
Chris didn't have time for a reaction. As soon as Yuan's magic intercepted his own, he felt the change, felt it lashing out and being corrupted. What was left of his own magic slammed into him and sent him flying, as far as knocking into the wall a few feet behind him. He almost yelled, but his voice was gone and his head was swimming.
"I-it's not fair...!"
He tried to pull himself up, but the images and voices now residing in his mind made were too disorienting and he could only support himself on the wall and breathe. He recognized a few of the faces as those he'd seen in Hamlet's pictures, his friends whose hair were streaked with various unnatural colors and practically lived on their A-Ts. Other faces and scenery in his mind were completely unfamiliar, yet not. He had to think about something else. Something like the spell gone wrong. Was that what was responsible for these visions of memories not his own?
Yuan shook his head, trying to clear it of the scrambled thoughts, pushing at the mana that had overwhelmed him, but to no avail. Faces flashed by, images, snatches of emotion, filling his mind one after another, places and times that were like nothing his world had ever seen. All he could do was try to ride out the confusion, trying not to let the pain and fright in some of the memories reach him. Not yet, not until he could sort this out properly...
Hamlet was so confused. Who were these people, these things that he felt were precious but weren't his? These events, these arguments, these moments in power and the moments hitting rock bottom. Important persons died, figures lost to the darkness of death. Other times, happier times, shone like little lights in the vast dark that filled his mind. As if it were the castle's doing, because everything the castle did to him was horrid in one way or another, the last memory that hit him was the fading life of... Chris. This one stood out the most to him, the emotions fear, pain, worry, regret flooding his entire body... Were they Chris's, or were they his own...?
Finally, things cooled down, but he couldn't get those emotions away. Hamlet hit the floor, catching himself on his arms and staring wide-eyed at the floor. He could barely breath, the fear tightening his chest and the pain that he felt making him shake. He could hear a heavy, steady, quick rhythm-- his own heartbeat. He was sure that at least half of what he was feeling were his own emotions, the fear of losing Chris in a way he could not be regained...
Chris, though disoriented, realized he wasn't the only one that the spell seemed to have backfired on. He shoved away the thoughts and feelings with ease of much practice and forced himself to sit up. "Hamlet," he tried across the room. "Yuan?" Exhaling, he grunted and tried to stand up. With his priorities instead focused on his friends instead of his own well-being, he asked, "Are you guys alright?" If something had happened to them... Dammit, why had he agreed to do this in the first place? He knew something was going to go wrong. Yet, he'd done it anyway, and now his only choice was to keep going and attempt at some damage control.
The tide was beginning to pass, finally, but Yuan couldn't forget the last few impressions... He opened his eyes slowly - when had he closed them? - willing his expression to remain neutral. "I'm...all right," he said slowly. "I don't think that worked the way it was supposed to..." He looked at them as he sat up. "...I imagine the two of you felt the same effect?" This could be very, very bad...how much had been shared between them?
Hamlet couldn't move. He continued to breathe shakily, and refused to budge from his place, eyes glued to the floor. He swallowed once, and felt the urge to close his eyes. He blinked, and winced.
... Not a good idea.
"You think?" Chris snapped at Yuan, stumbling over to the bed where he sat and rested his head in his hands. "No, no... that was a disaster." He shook his head and lowered his hands, looking over at Hamlet, who seemed to be confused and in some pain, but he wasn't bleeding or crying for help, so Chris kept to himself for the moment. Glancing back to Yuan, he set his mouth in a grim line and confirmed, "I'm thinking that's a 'yes'. Did you... see things?"
Yuan nodded. "I'm fairly certain they were memories," he replied grimly. He looked over at Hamlet. "Is he all right?" That was a stupid question, the answer was clear, but he didn't want to talk about what he'd seen, especially not with Chris...not before he'd had a chance to sort things out for himself, and maybe not after, either.
Hamlet started to move. However, it wasn't for the better. He collapsed further in, clutching his stomach and doubling over until he was nothing more than a mere ball on the floor. He was shaking rather violently, and his breathing was coming back, though heavy.
It was rather obvious that he wasn't okay.
"Memories? So you're saying I've got some of your memories and... you've got some of mine?" Chris asked, trying to keep the panic down in his voice. Yuan's confirmation that it apparently hadn't been just one way was all Chris needed to freak out. His memories were precious to him that they were all he had of home, even back in his own world. Some of them were much too personal and not to be shared lightly.
However, his attention snapped to Hamlet as the boy curled up and started shaking. Chris made his way unsteadily over (being careful to step around the shards of quartz laying around) and knelt down. "Hamlet...?"
"It would seem so," Yuan murmured, as he rose carefully and followed Chris over to where the other young man lay curled up on the floor. This was awkward, to say the least...quite a bit of Yuan wanted to simply leave and go back to his room, but he couldn't do that until he was sure the other two would be all right without him.
Hamlet manged, after a few moments that seemed like eternities, looked up at Chris, eyes wide with fear. His body still shook, and it looked like he couldn't make words if he wanted to.
Chris desperately wanted to ask Yuan what he had seen from Chris's past. It was the ultimate breach of privacy to view the private thoughts and recollections of someone else, and Chris felt a sort of anger rising up in him. However, any sort of explosion that was building up inside him was going to have to wait. Something was wrong with Hamlet and Chris could only watch and say, "We should get you to the clinic... You think you'll be alright if we orb?"
Yuan stood back, watching. There really wasn't anything he could do to help this situation, especially with his mind still reeling from the new information. Fortunately, Chris seemed to have things under control.
Hamlet suddenly stood up, backing up to the door and grabbing the handle. He fumbled for a moment, but he soon had the door open and was sprinting up the halls and staircases-- not good for his breathing that was already shaky. He ran as fast as he could, getting to the edge of the roof and collapsing on his knees.
"What the hell?" Chris stood back up and looked after Hamlet in confusion. He closed his eyes and sensed for him, quickly pinpointing his location to be the roof, but he didn't orb. Last time he had followed Hamlet up there had been a horrible disaster. Chris glanced to Yuan, a war raging in his eyes of whether he should follow or let Hamlet work whatever it was out on his own. "He's on the roof," he said quietly, not sure what that would accomplish, but it delayed his decision and gave him that much longer to think.
Yuan frowned. "You'd better go after him," he replied. "He didn't look like he was in any condition to be left alone." He could see Chris' reluctance, but Hamlet had obviously needed help. "...If you want help calming him down, I could go with you," he offered off-handedly, hoping Chris' pride would make him decide to deal with it himself rather than accepting the help.
Chris glanced between Yuan and the door. At this point, Chris had learned to slam down on his pride and first instincts whenever Hamlet was in a mood. It always seemed to end with Hamlet taking a casual statement the wrong way and Chris definitely did not want to deal with that, especially when Hamlet now knew... well, who-knew-what about Chris's past deeds. It was an awful thought, but it was enough to realize what would be the best course of action. "Would you?" he asked, his voice unusually quiet and subdued. He held out a hand for Yuan to take, intending to orb them up to the roof if Yuan didn't back out.
Yuan suppressed his initial reaction, which was to flinch and back away. He'd made the offer, after all; he had to follow up on the consequences. Instead, he nodded reluctantly and took Chris' hand. Hopefully, this wouldn't take too long, and he could get away to his own room, where he'd be safe.
Hamlet knew what was coming next. It was the only thing he knew for certain now. And so, it didn't surprise him that the shining lights of Chris's orbing appeared. He was sitting on his knees, doubled over again with his hands over his head, as if protecting himself from falling objects. However, the only thing he thought was falling was himself.
Chris let go of Yuan's hand and carefully took a few steps to approach Hamlet. "Hey... You alright?" he asked, though he knew how stupid of a question it was. The better way to phrase it would have probably been 'What's wrong?' but Chris didn't care right now. Whatever was going on obviously had to do with the backfired spell and, unfortunately, there were plenty of things Chris could remember that might have caused such a terrified reaction if Hamlet had received them.
Never should have cast that spell, he mentally admonished himself.
Yuan hung back, watching uncertainly. He didn't know what to expect, he didn't know Hamlet as well as Chris did...he didn't belong here at all, really. This was between the two of them, and he felt like an intruder. Only the fact that Chris had wanted his help kept him from seeking the stairs and letting the two of them be.
Hamlet wasn't shaking anymore. He almost didn't look like he was breathing. He was perfectly still... "No... no..." The important questions were surfacing now. He knew he couldn't tell Chris. But, what had he found out about him? Had he found out about what a manipulative bastard he really was...? How he and his teammates attacked Kogarasumaru when they were unaware and weak? And how much more of Chris was he going to find out should he access those memories...?
Chris frowned. While the new memories kept pushing at him in the back of his mind, begging to be seen and acknowledged, now was not the time and he had to fight to keep them from making themselves known and overwhelming him. Getting a bit closer, Chris splayed his hands in a non-threatening manner and asked, "Then what is it? Hamlet... what did you see?"
If it truly was Chris's fault for Hamlet's current state, he wasn't sure of what he was going to do. But he needed to know.
Hamlet shook his head, but moved no more than that. "... It's not... It's... All these emotions are..." He breathed, making it sound believable. Being overwhelmed by all the emotions attached to those memories was more than easy. However, he was so used to masking those that most of them did very little... except the ones...
He'd never experienced the feeling of death before... and he never wanted to have to... Especially when he knew whose death it was.
Chris shook his head and knelt down, although he was still a few feet away from Hamlet. He debated what to do for a moment, until finally deciding to take Hamlet at his word. Pushing him right now would get nowhere. "We should go back to the room... You can lay down while it passes," he suggested, raising his brows, hoping Hamlet would be able to see his concern.
Glancing back to Yuan momentarily, he licked his lips, then said, "You should probably go, too. We can figure out what we're going to do about all this later. I think we all need some time to ourselves right now, though."
Yuan nodded. "I couldn't agree more," he said. His mind was a mass of turmoil, and he needed the time to sort out the memories, see what was truly important of them. "I'll see both of you later." With that, he turned in a swirl of cloak and made his way quickly down the stairs and back to his room.
Hamlet looked up as he started to talk, started to comfort him. And when he saw that concern, he felt everything start to recede. It would be okay. As long as Chris was here, he'd be okay... Nothing would hurt him, nothing would... kill him.
He nodded... and sat up, letting his hands slide from his head.
Chris allowed a small smile, reaching out for Hamlet to take his hand. "Come on. We can work this whole thing out later."
Hamlet could only smile at him. He was still here. He wasn't going anywhere, he was still here... The boy reached out, taking his hand and nodding. "Yeah..."
nottwiceblessed), Hamlet (
dramatic_orange) and Yuan (
cloakand_danger).
what: An attempt to cheat the Castle gone verrry wrong.
when: Earlier today. Definitely before Gaara's party.
where: Room 710.
warnings: Er... none? Crazy mun ideas are crazy? Also, long log is long.
Hamlet sat on his bed, staring at his broken A-Ts that lie on the floor below. He hadn't wanted to walk, or go anywhere-- not without the A-Ts, and especially when that Marluxia character could still be running around and ready to give him another beating. If he went anywhere, it would be armed with something blunt, and several smaller things that he could throw.
But, staying cooped up made him think about things he'd been told time and time again not to worry about. Things like MacBeth, and how he would react to finding out Hamlet remembered nothing about him. 'If he'd get pissed off, then he's not a good friend'... Was that true? Hamlet thought it wasn't, but he didn't have anything other than gut instinct to tell him so. What if he really was horrible to him? What if Hamlet had been in a terrible position prior to Paradisa...?
He wanted to know... He had to know..
Sitting in one of the more comfortable chairs in the room, Chris leaned back against the plush and pulled his legs up a little higher, bringing the print of the book in his lap into better focus. He glanced over the top of his knees and saw Hamlet, who was still where he had been when Chris first came back to the room hours earlier. He'd barely moved or acknowledged the presence of the Whitelighter or even his own kitten. What unnerved him the most was that Chris knew the boy's voice was back by this point, having been proven by the quiet greeting when he'd first come in.
The problem now was that, even with his voice back, Hamlet wasn't talking. Chris furrowed his brows a bit, then turned back to his book. By all rights, it shouldn't have been his problem. Let Sparkles figure it out on his own time. Chris didn't need to interfere and he shouldn't have been feeling so guilty about not trying to do anything about it either.
But the room was just so quiet...
Sighing, Chris set the book aside and leaned his arms and most of his weight on the armrest of the chair, shifting so as to make himself more comfortable. Whatever was going on, he wanted to be prepared to sit for the long haul -- also in hopes that the casual stance would keep Hamlet from taking something Chris might say the wrong way again. "Alright, Sparkles," he said. "What's wrong?"
Hamlet closed his eyes, hearing Chris speak. He was silent for a while, whether it was from lack of will to speak, still feeling a bit sick, feeling that he didn't want to be yelled at... But, he knew what happened when he didn't speak up, and he told Chris he wouldn't do it anymore.
".. The same thing... that won't go away."
The reply was quiet, weak, as if his voice hadn't come back all the way or wasn't used to being used yet. But, it was there, it was honest, and Chris had the right to scold him for it again.
Chris frowned, having to lean in ever so slightly to even hear the answer. He leaned back a bit afterwards and could only tilt his head and ask, "What same thing?" Honestly, with all the things and emotions the teen burned through at whatever rate, it was hard to keep up. That wasn't to say Chris didn't have an idea, but he was going in cautiously.
Hamlet reached to the side of him, pulling out a single picture of him and MacBeth-- he'd hidden it there when Chris had come in, and had since just thought about the same things with the mental image of the photograph burned into his mind. He tossed it just right, and it cut through the air and landed at the base of the chair.
"That same thing..."
Shifting, Chris reached in front of the chair and pulled up the picture to see. It was Hamlet and that kid with the funny ponytail goofing about. He remembered seeing it around Christmas time when Hamlet had first found them.
"You mean your loss?" he asked, glancing back to Hamlet again.
Hamlet nodded silently, not looking at Chris. He wasn't looking at anything, really, and it was rather obvious due to the glazed-over, blank look in his eyes. If it weren't for the gentle, easy movement his body went through with each and every breath he took, one could have thought him dead.
Chris tossed the picture over to the small table in front of the chair, where a small stack of books currently made its home. He frowned and leaned back, again shifting his position. Exhaling, he realized that this was probably something Hamlet wouldn't be able to easily pull himself out of. Chris was sure he could empathize on plenty of levels, but he was too reluctant to go mucking about the darker parts of his mind when someone else needed him to attempt to comfort him that way.
Crossing his arms, he sat that way for a few moments, before finally asking, "What, Sparkles? What have you been thinking about so much over this? I mean, you can't just be thinking about how you can't think of things you don't remember."
Hamlet stayed quiet, trying to figure out how to word it. It was hard, these feelings he was dealing with. Guilt, caring, longing... Overbearing amounts of each made it difficult to sleep, eat, move... All the energy he had was going to keeping himself from crying over it. He cried too much, he thought...
"... I... If he came back... Something tells me he really would be upset... And you're right, how could I be such close friends with someone who would get angry at me for the castle taking away my memory....? I don't understand it. I'm so confused... The memories I'm missing have to be the ones that would fill in these holes..."
"So," Chris asked, "you think... getting your memories back would solve everything?"
Chris could tell he was frowning. It wasn't at Hamlet, but the thought growing in his mind. He couldn't really be thinking--it had Personal Gain written all over it! However... what if it worked and the consequence was only temporary, like the time before? He shook his head a little, trying to rid himself of the thoughts. It was ridiculous, and way too risky to be viable... whether Hamlet felt like he needed the memories or not.
Hamlet hugged his knees, burying his face in them. "I know... I can't get them back... So, even if he comes, even if he tells me everything... I'll only have stories that I wish I could have experienced... It won't bring back anything, and I won't be able to see the event, hear the laughter and voices of the times we spent together... I don't know... I just don't know what to do anymore..." Hamlet was shaking at this point, his voice sounding hurt and strained.
Was he crying again...?
Wincing, Chris reluctantly pulled himself out of the chair and came a bit closer to the bed. "Hey..." He sat down on the edge farthest from Hamlet, not wanting to startle the boy or get in his personal space. "Come on, don't... It's not your fault."
"I know it's not..." He said quietly, voice shaky. "But I can't do anything about it... I can't fix it. What if I mean more to him than I think I do? What if he meant more to me...? It would break him... No matter how stubborn, it would... hurt him." Hamlet tightened the grip on his knees, tensing up and shaking. "I don't know much.. but I know that that's the last thing I want to happen!"
Chris sat back and turned silent. Frowning, he looked down to the floor and shook his head. He wasn't going to say anything. The idea was so far-fetched and impossible. But... when did that ever stop a Halliwell from doing what she (or he) thought was right? The consequences would be severe, Castle intervention or not. Watching the hurting boy for a moment, Chris exhaled and looked away. "There... may be something I can do about that," he murmured, not entirely sure whether it was the right thing to say or not.
Hamlet, still shaking, very slowly lifted his head. The tears were falling, though not as hard as they'd been before. "You could... How could you... But...?" Hamlet couldn't think of anything to say. Would Chris-- could Chris actually do that...? He didn't know that he could believe it. Just how much was he capable of...?
"It's complicated, but..." Chris shrugged. "Yeah, maybe? I mean, there's always the chance of it backfiring, but if I word it right, we might be able to get off with something minimal." He tilted his head to Hamlet and raised his brows. "But you have to stop crying and--I'd need to make some preparations."
Hamlet tried to smile. Chris would actually do that for him...? ".. Yeah..." He let his knees down, and he wiped his eyes, trying to calm himself down enough using the fact that there was a chance that he could get his memories back. He found himself smiling a bit, and soon he had stopped crying. "What preparations... do we need to make?"
"I need to write a spell," Chris said, getting up from the bed abruptly and moving over to the stack of books. He pulled out a notepad and pencil, along with his journal, which had been stuck in one of the other books as an impromptu bookmark. "And I need to figure out whether a physical medium would help in something like this. ... and we may need some help," he added quietly, flipping open the journal.
Hamlet thought for a moment, and Hitsu-chan jumped up to climb into his lap, curling up. He pet her as he thought of what to do. "... Help... Who can we ask...?" Riku had done too much for him already, and if this proved dangerous, he didn't want him there. Vergil was a possibility, but he didn't like Chris much... and he owed Tex, and adding to his debt wouldn't be intelligent. Perhaps Chris knew someone...?
"I've already got someone in mind," Chris assured, writing something quick and simple: Can you swing by my room for a little while? There's something I was wondering if you could help me with. He filtered it in the regular manner, then left the journal open before turning to the notepad and starting to think of a rhyme.
Yuan stared at the message in his journal for a moment, questions flitting through his mind. What could Chris need his help with, that he couldn't or wouldn't ask for directly? Was there some kind of trouble?
Well, finding out wouldn't be difficult. He jotted down a reply, I'll be right there, then left quickly, striding down the hall until he stood in front of Chris and Hamlet's door. He paused for just a moment, to listen for any sounds of struggle within, then knocked firmly.
Hamlet perked up, and looked at the door. Chris was busy, he himself could get the door. Was it who Chris had called...? He stood, walking over and grabbing the knob to pull the door open. He peeked outside, looking up at Yuan, then stepping back and glancing over at Chris, opening the door more. Where he would normally be energetic and friendly, he was in no position for acting. This was serious, right?
Chris glanced up when someone knocked on the door. There was only one person it could have been and, closing his eyes for a moment, he reached out with his senses just to make sure. Seeing Hamlet answering the door by the time he had opened his eyes, Chris shrugged and went back to his spell composition. He still couldn't decide whether using crystals would have a positive or negative effect when amplifying the magic...
Distractedly, he gave a half-nod to Yuan and said, "Hey, thanks for coming."
Yuan stepped into the room. "Of course," he said. "...What's going on?" He looked over the young man who'd opened the door. "You must be Hamlet," he added. "I don't think we've met properly; I'm Yuan."
Hamlet smiled, nodding to him, then bowing only slightly dramatically.... slightly. Just a smidge. "It's a pleasure to finally meet you face-to-face~" He said respectfully, standing up straight and then taking a seat on his bed.
Chris gestured Yuan inside, motioning to one of the chairs or his own bed for the other man to sit on. "We're trying to see if it's possible to get Hamlet's loss back," he explained, still scribbling away. "But magic here is even more unpredictable than back home, so I was hoping that if something went wrong... maybe you could help stop the spell before it went into full effect?"
"And yourself as well," Yuan replied to Hamlet, returning the bow with a similar gesture of his own. He then considered Chris' words. "I'll do what I can," he said. "It will be interesting to see your magic in action." He wondered what sort of consequences spell failure might have; in his world, usually there would be mana backlash, but he recalled Chris being split into two different people and claiming it was because of a backfired spell, so clearly the rules were different.
Hamlet tried to remember the last time he'd seen a spell of Chris's. He remembered what he was pretty sure was the only time-- when he removed all the snow from the rooftop with his magic. That had been one of most awe-inspiring sights he'd ever witnessed, and now was going to see more. But just how much would he be seeing...? Would he be seeing just a fizzling spell, a fiery backlash, or the laughter and voice of his best friend...?
"It's nothing special," Chris said, ripping out the page he'd pretty much covered in lead by now. He pointed the eraser of his pencil at the ceiling and asked, "Can I get like a crystal? Oh--make it a quartz," he added quickly. On the table, a large crystal materialized itself and he gave it a speculative look. "This might work..." he murmured.
Standing up, Chris scanned the paper one last time. "Alright, um, so usually spells work instantaneously, but I figure if I channel it through the crystal, there would be time to stop the magic if something went wrong." He nodded over to Yuan. "That's where you come in. You're electrokinetic, right?"
Yuan smirked a bit, amused. "That's one way of putting it, I suppose," he acknowledged. "So...you want me to shock you if something goes wrong?" This was hardly what he'd had in mind when he came down, but now he had to admit to being intrigued. Besides, it was always a good idea to have a third party on hand when trying experimental magic.
Hamlet closed his eyes for a moment, stifling the question that might make Chris stop. He wouldn't ask if it would hurt, he wouldn't ask what the dangers were... He wanted his memories back, wanted to know MacBeth, to be able to actually feel correct remorse, not guilt...
Chris glanced over to Hamlet to make sure he was following, but seeing his eyes closed, it was hard to read him. Turning back to Yuan, he shook his head and couldn't help but feel amused. "I was thinking you more try zapping this," he said, picking up the crystal and holding it near head-level. "But if that really doesn't work, you'll probably have to move on and try me instead." Moving over to an open space on the floor, he sat down cross-legged and put the quartz a small space in front of him, waving both Hamlet and Yuan over. "You still up for it?"
Yuan nodded, instinctively extending his senses so that he'd be able to feel what was going on more clearly. "I'm ready whenever the two of you are," he said calmly, settling into a focused state. Whatever might happen, he'd be prepared to get them out of it. For a moment, he regretted not being able to teleport any longer, but quickly brushed the thought aside; he didn't need to be distracted by wishful thinking right now.
Hamlet obeyed Chris, sitting down and giving him a slightly uneasy look. He was a bit afraid... but it didn't matter. He'd come out of it one way or another. "... I'm ready..." He said, keeping his eyes on Chris so that he didn't close them. If he did, he was afraid he'd back out, and he didn't want to do that... He would regret never having tried.
Chris nodded, setting the paper out on his knees and rolling his shoulders. "Let's get this over with." He exhaled and began to chant.
The Power of Three, this may not be,
But save this child much misery.
While the Castle may say this will not be,
Return to Hamlet his memory.
The quartz in front of them started to glow, a mist of energy swirling about it and expanding to surround both Hamlet and Chris, at first in peaceful, lazy loops and circles. Soon, however, the light start to form more into wisps and lashed out at each rotation. Chris could feel his own magic interacting with that of the spell, and it was starting to go wildly out of control. Apprehensively, he glanced to Yuan and grit, "Cut if off, I can't get it to stop."
Yuan didn't need to be told twice - the mana filling the room was going wild. He pointed at the crystal and shot a bolt of lightning at it, trying to disrupt the energy at its source.
Immediately, he thought it might have been a bad idea. The extra burst of energy disrupted the spell, all right, but the effect was violent. A powerful shockwave rushed out from the crystal, knocking Yuan backward.
Hamlet gasped at the feeling of the magic, but something... wasn't right. His head began to hurt, and the energy was sparking and lashing out. It wasn't working. He could feel his memories, just beyond reach... Those holes with just a little bit filled, but... no. It slipped away when the spell was disrupted, and the shockwave sent him flying. He yelped, hitting the wall and crying out in pain-- his body hadn't healed all the way from the two days before.
And then.. he started to see things. Memories that weren't his world, nor his home. What was going on...? Memories of people he didn't know, and then a flashing-by memory that involved a face he did recognize-- Piper...
Chris didn't have time for a reaction. As soon as Yuan's magic intercepted his own, he felt the change, felt it lashing out and being corrupted. What was left of his own magic slammed into him and sent him flying, as far as knocking into the wall a few feet behind him. He almost yelled, but his voice was gone and his head was swimming.
"I-it's not fair...!"
He tried to pull himself up, but the images and voices now residing in his mind made were too disorienting and he could only support himself on the wall and breathe. He recognized a few of the faces as those he'd seen in Hamlet's pictures, his friends whose hair were streaked with various unnatural colors and practically lived on their A-Ts. Other faces and scenery in his mind were completely unfamiliar, yet not. He had to think about something else. Something like the spell gone wrong. Was that what was responsible for these visions of memories not his own?
Yuan shook his head, trying to clear it of the scrambled thoughts, pushing at the mana that had overwhelmed him, but to no avail. Faces flashed by, images, snatches of emotion, filling his mind one after another, places and times that were like nothing his world had ever seen. All he could do was try to ride out the confusion, trying not to let the pain and fright in some of the memories reach him. Not yet, not until he could sort this out properly...
Hamlet was so confused. Who were these people, these things that he felt were precious but weren't his? These events, these arguments, these moments in power and the moments hitting rock bottom. Important persons died, figures lost to the darkness of death. Other times, happier times, shone like little lights in the vast dark that filled his mind. As if it were the castle's doing, because everything the castle did to him was horrid in one way or another, the last memory that hit him was the fading life of... Chris. This one stood out the most to him, the emotions fear, pain, worry, regret flooding his entire body... Were they Chris's, or were they his own...?
Finally, things cooled down, but he couldn't get those emotions away. Hamlet hit the floor, catching himself on his arms and staring wide-eyed at the floor. He could barely breath, the fear tightening his chest and the pain that he felt making him shake. He could hear a heavy, steady, quick rhythm-- his own heartbeat. He was sure that at least half of what he was feeling were his own emotions, the fear of losing Chris in a way he could not be regained...
Chris, though disoriented, realized he wasn't the only one that the spell seemed to have backfired on. He shoved away the thoughts and feelings with ease of much practice and forced himself to sit up. "Hamlet," he tried across the room. "Yuan?" Exhaling, he grunted and tried to stand up. With his priorities instead focused on his friends instead of his own well-being, he asked, "Are you guys alright?" If something had happened to them... Dammit, why had he agreed to do this in the first place? He knew something was going to go wrong. Yet, he'd done it anyway, and now his only choice was to keep going and attempt at some damage control.
The tide was beginning to pass, finally, but Yuan couldn't forget the last few impressions... He opened his eyes slowly - when had he closed them? - willing his expression to remain neutral. "I'm...all right," he said slowly. "I don't think that worked the way it was supposed to..." He looked at them as he sat up. "...I imagine the two of you felt the same effect?" This could be very, very bad...how much had been shared between them?
Hamlet couldn't move. He continued to breathe shakily, and refused to budge from his place, eyes glued to the floor. He swallowed once, and felt the urge to close his eyes. He blinked, and winced.
... Not a good idea.
"You think?" Chris snapped at Yuan, stumbling over to the bed where he sat and rested his head in his hands. "No, no... that was a disaster." He shook his head and lowered his hands, looking over at Hamlet, who seemed to be confused and in some pain, but he wasn't bleeding or crying for help, so Chris kept to himself for the moment. Glancing back to Yuan, he set his mouth in a grim line and confirmed, "I'm thinking that's a 'yes'. Did you... see things?"
Yuan nodded. "I'm fairly certain they were memories," he replied grimly. He looked over at Hamlet. "Is he all right?" That was a stupid question, the answer was clear, but he didn't want to talk about what he'd seen, especially not with Chris...not before he'd had a chance to sort things out for himself, and maybe not after, either.
Hamlet started to move. However, it wasn't for the better. He collapsed further in, clutching his stomach and doubling over until he was nothing more than a mere ball on the floor. He was shaking rather violently, and his breathing was coming back, though heavy.
It was rather obvious that he wasn't okay.
"Memories? So you're saying I've got some of your memories and... you've got some of mine?" Chris asked, trying to keep the panic down in his voice. Yuan's confirmation that it apparently hadn't been just one way was all Chris needed to freak out. His memories were precious to him that they were all he had of home, even back in his own world. Some of them were much too personal and not to be shared lightly.
However, his attention snapped to Hamlet as the boy curled up and started shaking. Chris made his way unsteadily over (being careful to step around the shards of quartz laying around) and knelt down. "Hamlet...?"
"It would seem so," Yuan murmured, as he rose carefully and followed Chris over to where the other young man lay curled up on the floor. This was awkward, to say the least...quite a bit of Yuan wanted to simply leave and go back to his room, but he couldn't do that until he was sure the other two would be all right without him.
Hamlet manged, after a few moments that seemed like eternities, looked up at Chris, eyes wide with fear. His body still shook, and it looked like he couldn't make words if he wanted to.
Chris desperately wanted to ask Yuan what he had seen from Chris's past. It was the ultimate breach of privacy to view the private thoughts and recollections of someone else, and Chris felt a sort of anger rising up in him. However, any sort of explosion that was building up inside him was going to have to wait. Something was wrong with Hamlet and Chris could only watch and say, "We should get you to the clinic... You think you'll be alright if we orb?"
Yuan stood back, watching. There really wasn't anything he could do to help this situation, especially with his mind still reeling from the new information. Fortunately, Chris seemed to have things under control.
Hamlet suddenly stood up, backing up to the door and grabbing the handle. He fumbled for a moment, but he soon had the door open and was sprinting up the halls and staircases-- not good for his breathing that was already shaky. He ran as fast as he could, getting to the edge of the roof and collapsing on his knees.
"What the hell?" Chris stood back up and looked after Hamlet in confusion. He closed his eyes and sensed for him, quickly pinpointing his location to be the roof, but he didn't orb. Last time he had followed Hamlet up there had been a horrible disaster. Chris glanced to Yuan, a war raging in his eyes of whether he should follow or let Hamlet work whatever it was out on his own. "He's on the roof," he said quietly, not sure what that would accomplish, but it delayed his decision and gave him that much longer to think.
Yuan frowned. "You'd better go after him," he replied. "He didn't look like he was in any condition to be left alone." He could see Chris' reluctance, but Hamlet had obviously needed help. "...If you want help calming him down, I could go with you," he offered off-handedly, hoping Chris' pride would make him decide to deal with it himself rather than accepting the help.
Chris glanced between Yuan and the door. At this point, Chris had learned to slam down on his pride and first instincts whenever Hamlet was in a mood. It always seemed to end with Hamlet taking a casual statement the wrong way and Chris definitely did not want to deal with that, especially when Hamlet now knew... well, who-knew-what about Chris's past deeds. It was an awful thought, but it was enough to realize what would be the best course of action. "Would you?" he asked, his voice unusually quiet and subdued. He held out a hand for Yuan to take, intending to orb them up to the roof if Yuan didn't back out.
Yuan suppressed his initial reaction, which was to flinch and back away. He'd made the offer, after all; he had to follow up on the consequences. Instead, he nodded reluctantly and took Chris' hand. Hopefully, this wouldn't take too long, and he could get away to his own room, where he'd be safe.
Hamlet knew what was coming next. It was the only thing he knew for certain now. And so, it didn't surprise him that the shining lights of Chris's orbing appeared. He was sitting on his knees, doubled over again with his hands over his head, as if protecting himself from falling objects. However, the only thing he thought was falling was himself.
Chris let go of Yuan's hand and carefully took a few steps to approach Hamlet. "Hey... You alright?" he asked, though he knew how stupid of a question it was. The better way to phrase it would have probably been 'What's wrong?' but Chris didn't care right now. Whatever was going on obviously had to do with the backfired spell and, unfortunately, there were plenty of things Chris could remember that might have caused such a terrified reaction if Hamlet had received them.
Never should have cast that spell, he mentally admonished himself.
Yuan hung back, watching uncertainly. He didn't know what to expect, he didn't know Hamlet as well as Chris did...he didn't belong here at all, really. This was between the two of them, and he felt like an intruder. Only the fact that Chris had wanted his help kept him from seeking the stairs and letting the two of them be.
Hamlet wasn't shaking anymore. He almost didn't look like he was breathing. He was perfectly still... "No... no..." The important questions were surfacing now. He knew he couldn't tell Chris. But, what had he found out about him? Had he found out about what a manipulative bastard he really was...? How he and his teammates attacked Kogarasumaru when they were unaware and weak? And how much more of Chris was he going to find out should he access those memories...?
Chris frowned. While the new memories kept pushing at him in the back of his mind, begging to be seen and acknowledged, now was not the time and he had to fight to keep them from making themselves known and overwhelming him. Getting a bit closer, Chris splayed his hands in a non-threatening manner and asked, "Then what is it? Hamlet... what did you see?"
If it truly was Chris's fault for Hamlet's current state, he wasn't sure of what he was going to do. But he needed to know.
Hamlet shook his head, but moved no more than that. "... It's not... It's... All these emotions are..." He breathed, making it sound believable. Being overwhelmed by all the emotions attached to those memories was more than easy. However, he was so used to masking those that most of them did very little... except the ones...
He'd never experienced the feeling of death before... and he never wanted to have to... Especially when he knew whose death it was.
Chris shook his head and knelt down, although he was still a few feet away from Hamlet. He debated what to do for a moment, until finally deciding to take Hamlet at his word. Pushing him right now would get nowhere. "We should go back to the room... You can lay down while it passes," he suggested, raising his brows, hoping Hamlet would be able to see his concern.
Glancing back to Yuan momentarily, he licked his lips, then said, "You should probably go, too. We can figure out what we're going to do about all this later. I think we all need some time to ourselves right now, though."
Yuan nodded. "I couldn't agree more," he said. His mind was a mass of turmoil, and he needed the time to sort out the memories, see what was truly important of them. "I'll see both of you later." With that, he turned in a swirl of cloak and made his way quickly down the stairs and back to his room.
Hamlet looked up as he started to talk, started to comfort him. And when he saw that concern, he felt everything start to recede. It would be okay. As long as Chris was here, he'd be okay... Nothing would hurt him, nothing would... kill him.
He nodded... and sat up, letting his hands slide from his head.
Chris allowed a small smile, reaching out for Hamlet to take his hand. "Come on. We can work this whole thing out later."
Hamlet could only smile at him. He was still here. He wasn't going anywhere, he was still here... The boy reached out, taking his hand and nodding. "Yeah..."