The First Age

It didn't take long for Connor to notice what she was wearing. Aria fought off the emotional bombardment with great difficultly. It was bad her neighbors had those feelings toward each other to have them obviously directed at her was unnerving. Aria fought off the blush of appreciation, but wasn't sure how well she succeeded.

It wasn't until Aria was past the men that Jensen became embarrassed. Aria was curious as to what was happening in his mind. You could never tell what a person was embarrassed about from their thoughts alone.

Even Giovanni's quick brush of emotions made Aria want to blush. Thankfully, she was gone quickly through the room before any of them noticed her turning red. It would be very difficult to explain.

Aria slipped into the master bathroom and was glad to see a bath, but this wasn't her house, nor did she bother to bring her weapons back with her. A large mistake on her part. Aria knew better and chided her self and she removed the shirt and remaining clothes and turned on the shower.

The water didn't even have time to warm before Aria jumped into the shower and rinsed off the continually hardening blood from her body. Aria couldn't imagine what Conner was thinking, the running water was a good dampner of emotions but not nearly so as submerging in a half full tub of water. The weight of the world lifted slight with the rejuvination the water provided. But there were still too many people around for Aria's comfort.

She hurriedly washed through the warming shower, washing and making sure every last bit of blood was gone from her body. How she had managed to get blood in her hair was beyond her, but the continual stream of red was from everywhere. She washed until the water ran clear.

Aria looked at the clothes handed to her and sighed. Sweats were such a bad looking thing, they were too big as she pulled them on it felt like forever until her feet poked through. She looked at herself in the mirror and sighed. It would have to do. Maybe there was a fast cycle on his machine. She'd hate to get blood everywhere though. Some prices had to be paid.

Aria pulled the t-shirt over her head, it completed the disshevled look. Aria walked out of the bathroom and glanced around the master bedroom. Nothing here screamed monster, no cabinets leaking blood, nothing other than her clothes draped over her arm was soiled with blood. He was a normal person with a gift from God, not a god reborn, just a man. Aria nodded to herself, satisfied the danger of this man was naught. But people always surprised you, it was the nature of the world.

Aria opened the master bedroom door and found Jensen still in the kitchen. While running through her fingers through her hair, she studied them all. They were ingrossed in coversation of sorts, nothing overly important it seemed. Aria didn't want to interrupt. She stood by the counter where the food had been placed. She looked at it and decided she wasn't that hungry.

At an appropriate interlude, Aria spoke to Jensen "Have a place I can do these quickly so you can have your clothes back?"
She really didn't want to take these home with her, much less go outside in them.


Edited by Aria, Apr 2 2014, 09:35 AM.

After Aria disappeared they all started eating the food Jensen had prepared. A little too much mayo for Connor's taste, but he was hungry and ate appreciatively after thanking Jensen.

He was in a friendly mood now. "Dallas, huh? I've been there a few times. Nice town, great restaurants.
" He smiled. "There was that one place....Bone Daddy's, that's it. A barbecue joint. Really good.
" He chuckled in memory. "Pretty waitresses too. Never heard of Witchita Falls. Sounds small though.
"

Connor heard the shower stop. Aria'd be out soon.

Giovanni had been silent for most of the exchange, indeed most of the evening. He seemed less tense too. Perhaps viewing Aria as a pretty girl helped dispel some of the apprehension. For the first time in a long while, he spoke. "I'm from Venezia - Venice, Italy."

Connor looked at him and smiled. "That's cool.
" Then just sat back on the stool and looked at his empty plate. The quiet seeped into him. The brief rush of camaraderie and emotion started to drain away. Just a quickly as it had started, it was gone. His emotions were all over the place tonight.

Aria came out...she still had the t-shirt on, but the sweats were too big. She looked more refreshed though. No blood anyway, which had to be nice. Connor found that he was no longer feeling that juvenile rush he had before. She was just as pretty. More so, now that she looked more natural with her hair down and wet, in sweats and a t-shirt. It made her softer. Instead he just watched her. "Have a place I can do these quickly so you can have your clothes back?
"

What kind of life does a person with that kind of job have? It was funny to keep thinking of that old Men in Black movie. He had watched it with his dad many times growing up. But that really was what she was- at least that's the closest he could imagine anyway. He remembered the loneliness of the characters. The scene where Will Smith was erasing every aspect of his past life, his name becoming a single letter. There was a nobility to it, to the sacrifice. But it was also tragic. What was that line? "Is it worth it?" "Oh yeah....If you're strong enough."
These people had to be alone. Lately, that feeling had surrounded him. Alone. It was like he'd lost all connection to everyone who he'd been close to, lost everything that had anchored him. Was it the same for them? She didn't look like she had a partner. She didn't mention one. She had said "bosses". She was alone.

He wasn't sure why it mattered to him. He just couldn't get his head on straight tonight. It was like he had been dead for months- ever since Hayden. The only thing that had kept him going all that time was determination to find out why they had kept him from the hospital? Why had there been danger? But every failure, every blockage, every closed door had shaved away more and more of his...hope, his life. He had needed this answer. More than anything. It was the only things keeping him from despair. If they had been wrong...if they had let Hayden die, when...when they could have gotten him help....He needed those answers. But after 6 months, he was close to the end. He was at the end.

But tonight had been like he had been brought back to life, at least a little bit. Emotions and feelings that had lain dead in his heart where suddenly vying for expression. But under that was something else too. Fear. The potential for hope after so long also brought the possibility of despair.

Connor just waited, not sure how to go on.

Venice sounded... exotic and romantic. Like the kind of place you saw in movies and Bond films. The thick Italian accent cast Giovanni in an all the more mysterious vibe, and Jensen found himself nodding along, secretly hoping the man would share more insights into what must be a fascinating story.

Before either of them could carry on, however, Aria returned, hair dripping on her shoulders and dragging herself along as best she could in oversized pants. It reminded him of the times Jessika walked around in his clothing. She preferred to sleep in his boxers, enough that Jensen stopped wearing them himself in favor of briefs so she could keep the stash in her closet.

"There's a wash room at the end of the storage closet,"
he said, pointing the way. Connor's eyes in particular followed Aria as she moved, and while Jensen appreciated that the young lady was attractive, his eyes simply didn't leer with the same sort of passion.

He looked down, but the awkward silence broke before his resolve to hide in the cabinetry.

"I suppose we owe you answers, Connor,"
he said quietly. Then, sharing a look with Giovanni because he had no clue where to actually start, he asked "What would you like to know?"

"I suppose we owe you answers, Connor
," Jensen said quietly. He looked at Giovanni and then said, "What would you like to know?
"

Connor looked at them both. Then he took a deep breath, suddenly unsure how to start. Such a crazy emotional day. It was roller coaster, barreling him through so many emotional states. Numbness. Listlessness. Depression. Fear. Anger. Relief. Excitement. Contentment. Attraction. Compassion. Loneliness. And now...now……pain, as he opened his wound, like digging up a grave and exposing it to the elements anew.

"I, uh....My son Hayden...he-
“ His voice failed him. “Uh, he died about six months ago.
" He swallowed and took a another breath. "I watched him die over two weeks.
" He'd kept that particular memory suppressed for all this time. But it was coming out. The sound of those screams, the chill in the skin of his face and hands, the sweat that covered him as he shivered, the tears as he cried and rocked about....it all returned to him from the place where he kept it buried deep, a place he tried to avoid but kept finding a way to. And beneath it all, Hayden's voice crying from when he was a little boy- "Daddy, Daddy, please Daddy!
"- overlaid it all.

He was supposed to protect his son. He’d promised. He was supposed to be there for him and make sure nothing bad happened to him. And there he was, impotent, holding his son's hand, forehead to Hayden’s hand, pleading and praying- and nothing could stop Hayden's suffering. Hayden, my son, I am so sorry. Ahh my son, my son. I'm sorry. I failed you. I'm so sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry.... The mantra played over and over in his head. He closed his eyes and put his head down, feeling the pounding of his heart. Tears dripped from his eyes. He took a deep breath Please God, Please Abba, please please help me! Another breath. Another. He squeezed his hands into fists until they hurt, tightening his the muscles in his arms in impotent rage. Slowly he calmed. He lifted his head up and opened his eyes, swiping his tears with thumb and forefinger. He got control of himself, stilled his heart.

"My son died of 'the sickness'. His mother and I, we tried to help him. We tried. But we didn't take him to the hospital.
" He stopped again. "We didn't take him.
" He said the words quietly. "We didn't take him because his mom...his mom said it was dangerous.
" Anger welled up in him. He was still angry at Jamie...She had taken Hayden's death hard he knew. She had gone a month barely getting out of bed or talking to anyone. Jamie had loved Hayden, he knew that. Connor knew she had been trying to protect Hayden...but was she right? Had she been right? Should he have listened to her? "We didn't take him. Jamie said that people with the sickness were disappearing. Their families were disappearing.
"

He clenched his jaw and gritted his teeth and looked Jensen forcefully in the eye. "What I want to know...what I have to know, is why I didn't take him to the hospital. What was I protecting him from?
" The thought that he had made a mistake, that they had been wrong....if that happened...well...
Edited by Connor Kent, Apr 2 2014, 08:28 PM.

Aria made it to the laundry before Connor's emotions overwhelmed her. Barely enough time to toss in the blood soaked pants before she felt the mass of sorrow, desperation and guilt overwhelm every other feeling she had in the building. She grabbed at the edge of the machine to catch herself from falling. Aria could barely make out the words through the pain.

The few words the dribbled into her mind were simple yet powerful, son, died and sickness. Aria had heard the rumors, she'd never seen it, never been on those missions. Those children taken from their families and studied. Entire families that disappeared, all because it was thought to be contagious. But Aria knew better. The gods had returned and with them the emergence of this sickness. The two were tied, but how she didn't know. But others in the Atharim would, of course they would, they were the ultimate knowledge of those supposed reborn gods.

Aria pushed aside her thoughts, and the feelings. She wrapped herself tighter in the bubble of emptiness she kept around her at all times. It only dampened the feeling. Aria took a deep breath and started the machine on it's fastest cycle. Hopefully it wouldn't be too long.

The other room was filled with sorrow and pain and Aria knew she had to enter, had to get her coat, and her weapons she'd left in the other bathroom. It was difficult, but she managed to walk around the small congregation of men with out incident. Her skin was pale from the extensive pain. She quickly grabbed her weapons belt and found a seat far from Conner. It wasn't very far away, she didn't think anything could be far enough away in this loft. Aria pulled her coat around her as if it would help block the powerful emotions. It did little more than warm her body.

Aria focused on the feel of the lining on her arms. The soft caress of the satin liner. She tried to listen. But all she could do was feel bad for Connor and his loss. She'd never known such family, there was no loss that great for her, and there likely never would be. But it was not her sorrow she felt, she knew that the depression overwhelming her was not hers. She had to push it away.

Aria tried to speak, at first nothing came out. She swallowed and tried again. Her voice was laced with Connor's sorrow, "You were probably right to keep him home. There was nothing you could do once he reached that stage of the sickness. At least he passed in loving arms."
Much better than in the cold stale hospital room or worse yet in the cement walls of some unknown facility devoid of any love or care for their patients.

Giovanni actually felt sorry for Connor. Giovanni hadn't had much of a family and most of them had turned on him anyways, but watching someone you love die hard to be hard.

Giovanni began to feel confused emotions. On the one hand sorry for Connor and his loss. On the other hand guilty that he had not helped others who had been through the situation he had once found himself in.

Aria returned and put on her coat and listened, responding to tell Connor that he had done the right thing in keeping him home. At least he died around those who loved him. Aria's words had brought a sense of relief to him as Giovanni hadn't known how to answer the man. It was strange but Giovanni was becoming more intrigued by the Atharim woman. It wasn't love or lust, although she was pretty, but more of a sense of admiration. She seemed different from most of the Atharim he had met. Confusion once again reared it's ugly head and Giovanni turned to speak to Connor.

"She is right, you know. There is very little that could have been done about it. He left knowing that you loved him dearly and that brought comfort to him that no hospital could give."


His own words surprised him, seeming to come from nowhere. The longing for chaos was still there, but at the same time he felt calm. Things were changing in his life and he was unsure what to make of it.& there had to be a key to all of it and his mind went back to his visions. Why were they important.

"What does Osiris mean?"
Giovanni suddenly stopped, realizing he had spoken his thoughts aloud. "I'm sorry, I was just thinking aloud."


Giovanni cleared his throat and continued, "I think you did what was best. He left knowing your love."


Inside Giovanni chided himself for his slip up. He had not meant to speak aloud and more than likely the rest of them thought he was crazy by now. Perhaps it would be time for him to leave soon.


Edited by Giovanni Cavelli, Apr 3 2014, 11:26 AM.

Connor's first sentence shot an arrow through Jensen's heart. Sympathy blazed afterward, but to hear the child's death was extended over two weeks wreaked torment all the hotter.

Jensen, across the island from Connor, found himself glued in place. The man put his face to his arms, and every muscle in Jensen's body ached to provide some sort of comfort. But he couldn't. Not because the child was already gone, his soul in divine hands, but because somewhere far to the west, two small boys were living out their lives thinking their father was gone instead. It was all one big, hypocritical lie. How could he offer the presence of comfort for a man that was broken by the death of a child, when Jensen had two of his own, and willingly stayed away from them. The emotion thickened the air like humidity, and his own eyes ringed with wetness.

Jensen was fiddling with a hand towel, strewing it through his hands over and over again, when Connor fixed his gaze upon him.

What I want to know...what I have to know, is why I didn't take him to the hospital. What was I protecting him from?"

Aria offered an answer first with conviction that spoke of experience. Giovanni agreed. The punctate question that emerged in the midst of all the morbidity was out of place, but while the word sounded familiar, its meaning drifted.

Connor was still waiting for his answer. Jensen was the one to offer explanation in the first place, but to make good on that promise, he needed to swallow his own pride and focus on the brother in pain.

Jensen began quietly, but he spoke without stumbling. From experience only, melodrama and eloquence draped themselves on him like a veil, but the profound meaning to what he would say was diminished by the stooped posture and fiddling hands of guilt.

"I was on a bus in the middle of Mexico for my first time with the Sickness. I knew enough of the language to ask for a hospital, but there was nothing for 200 miles but a run-down clinic in the next town. I wouldn't have even gone but for the driver kicking me off. Apparently we do look that bad,"
he said. "Luckily, a man who got off at the same town told me how to find it."


Taking a breath, he continued. "By the time I dragged myself there, the clinic was closed. So I stumbled off in search of a hotel or something, and the man from the bus, there he was again, like some guardian angel, he told me where to find a hotel."


Jensen shook his head, "I was well the next day, and continued my journey south, but so did this new friend. I thought he was a reporter at first, and he was following me, but not for a story,"
he said, voice darkening. He had been so confused then, panicked and disbelieving. Had the man come for him a few months later, Jensen would have happily helped him carry out the task he set out to do, but Mexico City was a hectic place, and Jensen made things happen that were more than sheer luck. He outran the stalker in a way, but the next time the Sickness came, he knew to not seek refuge in a hospital.

Aria looked at Giovanni as he spoke, it had been the first time since it all went down that he really had much to say. And his thoughts out loud made Aria curious. "Osiris was an Egyptian god, one of death."


But she wasn't sure anyone really heard, as Jensen told Conner of his first bout with the sickness. Jensen had confirmed her suspicion, but did it happen before or after one channeled? Considering Conner's son died, Aria had to assume it was afterwards. Aria sat forward on the edge of her chair and looked at Conner with concern, "Did anything weird happen a few days before he became ill?"


Aria didn't want to come out and say that this dead kid had been gifted with the power of the so called gods. But Giovanni's comments made Aria wonder if the souls who had once called themselves gods had been reborn into the fabric of time. Aria didn't believe in reincarnation, but it wasn't something she'd disregard off hand with all the crazy things she'd seen in her life.

The washer buzzed its end and Aria dropped her coat on the chair behind her and went to put her clothes in the dryer. The sooner she could get out of this den of emotion the better she would feel. Conner's emotions were all over the place and it was difficult to manage anything at all.

The blood had stained as she had feared, but at least the sticky substance was gone, it would do to walk home him.

As Aria returned to her seat she glanced out the window at the lights in the city. Moscow could be pretty at night. It was really the only time it was. Moscow was full of the unknown, and each and every day Aria started to doubt the organization she had grown up in.

Connor sat there, looking at Jensen. He felt naked, exposed. Everything hinged on this- everything. His life, his sanity, his future. If I made a mistake…If I could’ve save Hayden… It was all out, all on the line. Vaguely, he was aware of Aria coming back in the room and sitting down. Connor shifted his gaze to her, then to Giovanni. The quiet filled the loft and his head felt stuffed with cotton. His thoughts seemed distant.

Aria opened her mouth- there was pain in her eyes, deep pain- Connor felt like he was seeing his reflection in her eyes- then softly said, “You were probably right to keep him home. There was nothing you could do once he reached that stage of the sickness. At least he passed in loving arms.
” The words were simple. But somehow….somehow, he knew that she was telling the truth. She knew something about it, about the alternative. Part of him felt some measure of relief. She was trying to comfort him, to tell him that they had done the right thing, that their son had been loved- that they had filled his last moments with their love. It was something. But part of him felt a twinge of anger. What did she know? What would they have done to my boy? It made him feel protective of his son all over again.

Before he could ask, Giovanni spoke. The man had been quiet for most of the night. It surprised him. "She is right, you know. There is very little that could have been done about it. He left knowing that you loved him dearly and that brought comfort to him that no hospital could give.
" That Giovanni would agree with her dampened the feelings of anger there. From what Connor had guessed, Giovanni would have reason to dislike Aria, or at least the organization she worked for. Connor let the words wash over him. He played them over and over in his mind, trying to believe it- wanting to. He heard Giovanni and Aria briefly talking but the words were meaningless to him.

And then Jensen spoke and Connor forgot everything. Jensen had had the sickness! And he had survived! Connor’s eyes were glued to the man’s. There was pain there. Connor imagined Jensen going through what Hayden had. “How….how did you survive?
”

Before Jensen could answer, Aria sat forward and Connor looked at her. She genuinely looked concerned and Connor felt…thankful for it. "Did anything weird happen a few days before he became ill?
" The question was strange, but she seemed to be trying to confirm something.

“Weird?
”, he said slowly. “Yeah….it was why Jamie and I were with Hayden when he came down with it. He had been rock climbing and fell. He should have been hurt, but when the doctors examined him, there was not a scratch on him.
” He remembered the fear that had lanced through him when Connor’s friend Kirsty called to tell him of the accident. He had dropped everything to make the 3 hour drive to be there. And then the relief- the beautiful relief at knowing Hayden hadn’t been hurt. It was a miracle. Connor had shut a lot of those weeks away, as best he could. In hindsight it had made him feel bitter at the elation and relief he felt then when only a few weeks later Hayden would die in pain. But Aria and Giovanni’s words provided him with an anchor of sorts. Hayden had died in the midst of those who loved him most. He looked at Aria. And the danger had been real. Again, that spike of anger, though this time, not at her directly. This was not a woman who would hurt his son. He could see that in her eyes. No question. But those she worked for…. He was torn. He wanted to ask her directly what dangers they had been avoiding. But he more than that, he wanted to ask Jensen about the sickness.

“Please. How did you survive? What did you do? What should we have done to save him?
”
Edited by Connor Kent, Apr 4 2014, 09:40 AM.

The conversation carried on, and Jensen was glad for it. Aria's thoughts mimicked his own. Certainly he had traced the symptoms of the Sickness to the use of what he'd thought at the time had been 'dark' powers, but one day, they just stopped coming. He couldn't answer why.

He busied himself with clearing the counter of the remains of their snacks, refilling drinks, and gathering the leftovers to take to Aria. She'd not had any yet, and Jensen was not going to allow her to leave on an empty stomach. She'd undergone enough trauma for one day. He placed a plate on the table next to where she sat, a silent delivery, and returned to the counter without fanfare.

The conversation inevitably returned to him, and Connor's question was the one Jensen dread to hear. What was the meaning behind his survival when Hayden died? What was the meaning behind any of it? How did these miracles fit into Biblical context? Jensen had answers for none of them. In fact, after meeting Giovanni, hearing about Connor's son's miracle, and confirmation from Aria that they were not the only three in the world with such experiences, Jensen was more confused than ever.

He couldn't look Connor in the eye when he answered. Instead, his gaze shifted to an open Bible laid out on a nearby surface. It was the same Bible, hundreds of years old and well-worn that John Smith had given him.

"I'm sorry, Connor."
He said sadly. "I don't have an answer for you. If I could trade fates with your son, I would do so in a heartbeat."


He exhaled and forced his gaze to the others in the room. Could they help?