Nephilim's Fall: Chapter Fourteen

Stella gets settled in the house and visits Ari again.

Chapter 14

 Conner is waiting for us outside Ari's room, his expression taut. I would ask him what is wrong, but I am too wrapped up in my own melancholy over meeting Ari. Nathaniel and Ebony head off in the opposite direction to the one we had come in, waving a quick goodbye to us before they went. I’m sad to see them go, but I don't mind too much now that Conner is with me.

We walk back along the corridor in mutual silence, each wrapped up in our own thoughts. As hard as I try, I can't shake the image of Ari's frail figure from my mind. I am distracted, though, when I realize just how hungry I am.

"What time is it?" I ask Conner, reaching for his wrist to check his watch.

"Nearly eight," he replies, pulling his hand from my grasp before I can properly get a hold of it.

“Wow, no wonder I'm hungry," I yawn, suddenly worn out. "So, what do you people do for eating around here, anyway?"

"We "people" eat just like you do, Stella."

"Oh," I shrug. "So you guys don't have some weird special diet or anything? You know, sprinkle a bit of pixie dust on your cornflakes in the morning, something like that?"

"Don't be stupid, Stella. You've seen me eat thousands of times," he snaps, his voice on edge.

"I was making a joke Conner, geese," I murmur, surprised by the anger in his tone. "Sorry. I'm just hungry, is all."

"Well, that's why we're going to the kitchen, isn't it?"

"Oh. Well, how was I supposed to know that?" I glance around us at the corridor we are walking through; it looks exactly like all the ones before it.

"I don't know, Stella." Conner's tone makes it obvious that he is done talking.

Several minutes of silence later, and several identical-looking corridors too, we arrive in a massive kitchen clad with expensive-looking stainless steel appliances and matching bench tops. 

"Nice," I whistle appreciatively, staring at the almost mesmerizingly shiny surfaces.

"Yeah, well I guess being special pays off sometimes." Conner grunts, moving to a massive refrigerator and yanking it open. "Here," he says, pulling out several handfuls of cold meats and fresh fruit and dumping them into my arms. "Think that should be enough?"

"Plenty," I murmur, staring apprehensively down at the small mountain of food. "Is this all for me?"

"I wasn't kidding when I said we eat just like you do, I haven't been raiding your fridge regularly for the past five years out of boredom" Conner says, rolling his eyes. 

"Oh," I smile, happy that his mood seems to have lightened. "I wasn't sure if you were going to be eating with me."

"Well, can't leave you on your own," he says, his tone turning serious as he shuts the fridge door. "We already saw how well that went the first time. Besides, I should stick around in case Olivia or Marissa shows up at your door with a bottle of chloroform."

I gulp, several worrying images running simultaneously through my mind.

"Oh." Is all I can say.

"I'm kidding, Stella" Conner laughs, shaking his head. "That probably won't happen." 

"Probably?" I ask.

He laughs again, taking most of the food from my arms and motioning for me to follow him out of the kitchen without replying.

We are walking down "my" corridor before I realize that we are heading to my room. I am about to ask him why we are eating in there when it occurs to me that the rest of the people here probably don't want to have me hanging around while they are eating their dinner. I sigh, once again wishing that I was at home with my mother. A sharp pang tugs at my heart as I picture her, probably frantic with worry.

"What's wrong?" Conner asks looking at me closely.

I sigh again, already getting sick of this "empathy" thing that Conner has going on. I know in the back of my mind that he has always been this way, and nothing is really different, but somehow that doesn't make it any less annoying.

"You're the psychic one, why don't you tell me?" I tell him with a little too much anger in my voice.

"Empathic, not psychic," he corrects, coming to a halt outside a doorway that is presumably mine. "There's actually a huge difference. I can tell when you're upset, or angry, or happy, or bored. But I never know why."

I shrug. "It all sounds the same to me, Conner. All I know is that you know things that are going on in my head; things that only I should know."

He sighs, pushing the door open and emptying his haul onto the bed. "I know, Stella. But I don't choose to be this way, and I can't exactly turn it off. Trust me, I've tried."

"Yeah, I guess so," I reply, dumping my food next to his. "I guess I just thought it would be more fun, you having a superpower."

"I'm sorry it's not fun for you, but it's not exactly a party for me. It's one thing when I'm only around one person and their emotions are going haywire, but when it's a group of people, all with conflicting emotions, it's no picnic." He shrugs, picking up an apple and biting into it before continuing. "I guess that's one of the reasons I never really tried to make friends with anyone else at school."

"Oh, I thought it was because my incredible awesomeness made everyone else pale in comparison," I joke, forcing an unconvincing laugh.

"Yeah, well, there was that too," he says, smiling. "Now, I thought you were hungry?"

"Mmm," I murmur, sitting down on the bed and enthusiastically dig into a cold chicken drumstick.

After we've eaten our fill, Conner and I lay down on the bed, head to toe, just like we did whenever he stayed the night back home; before my mother banished him to the sofa bed, of course. I sigh, stretching my arms behind my head. It is the most comfortable I have felt since I'd left my house the previous night.

"Stella?"

"Yeah?" I yawn.

"I'm sorry about all of this." Conner's voice is heavy, and I sigh, pushing myself up onto my elbows so that I can look at him.

"Don't be. You're just looking out for me, right?"

"I know. It's just�" I don't want you to be unhappy here."

"Conner, I'll be fine as long as I'm with you, quit worrying about my feelings."

He sighs, staring over my shoulder. "It's hard not to worry about your feelings when I can feel them too."

"I'm fine, damn it," I groan, lying back down. "I was, anyway, until you started with all this."

"I'm sorry."

"Stop apologizing!" I snap. "Unless you're going to let me go home, don't apologize for keeping me here."

There is a long, uncomfortable silence, and I start to regret snapping at him.

"Look, I'm sorry." I tell him, breaking the silence.

"No, maybe you're right." He mumbles. 

I sit up again, incredulous. "What?" 

"Maybe bringing you here was wrong, but I don't regret it."

"Yeah, maybe it was. But so what? Why are you bringing it up?"

"I just want you to know that I'm sorry. I'm really, really sorry." he says, sounding a bit pathetic.

I roll my eyes at him, my annoyance growing. "I told you not to do that."

"Sorry."

"Whatever, Conner," I growl, lying down once again. "I'm tired; I think I'd like to go to sleep now."

"Okay," he says, promptly swinging his legs off the bed. "See you in the morning." And he leaves, shutting the light off and closing the door as he goes, all without a backward glance. 

I stare at the doorway for a long time after he is gone, replaying our conversation in my mind. It just doesn't make sense, if he really did sense emotions like he said he could, surely he would have known how annoyed I was getting, so why did he continue? Heck, even without his empathy he should have been able to see the reaction he was causing. It isn't like him to deliberately piss me off like that, not at all. I sigh, rolling over to face the wall, trying unsuccessfully to shove the conversation from my mind.

It is hours before I finally manage to drift off, only to face disturbing dreams involving Olivia and Marissa sneaking into my room, bottles of chloroform clutched tightly in their hands.

I wake the next morning disoriented, momentarily blissfully forgetting where I am. It isn't until I look down and see little white Jack clutched in my arms that I remember the previous two days, and sigh, pulling the duvet over my head in lieu of anything more productive to do. I stay this way for a good ten minutes before the novelty wears off, and I drag myself out of bed, knowing that it will be useless trying to go back to sleep, despite the low position of the sun through my window.

I change out of my pajamas, opting towards a light t-shirt and a pair of jeans, but what I really want is a shower. I sit on my bed for a long time, debating whether or not to try and find a bathroom on my own or to just stay where I am and wait for someone to come and show me to one. I've just decided to get up for about the tenth time when a hesitant knocking sounds from my door.

"Hello?" I call out, worrying images from my dreams popping unwontedly into my head.

"Stella? Can I come in?" Conner's voice is cautious, probably because of how we'd left things the previous night, but I am just relieved that it is him at my door instead of one of the not-so-sympathetic people I'd seen yesterday.

"Sure, Conner, I'm already up."

He pushes the door open, peering inside. "You hungry?

"Not so much hungry as dirty. Is there anywhere I can have a shower?"

"Oh, yeah, of course. You ready now?"

"Sure am," I reply, grabbing my toiletries and jumping off the bed.

I stand in the shower for a long time, relishing the feel of the hot water as it unknots the tension in my muscles and washes away the previous two days. I'm surprised to find Conner waiting outside the bathroom for me when I'm finished, settled on the floor with his knees pulled up to his chest.

"You didn't have to wait for me," I murmur, thinking guiltily of the extra minutes I'd taken in the shower and then drying my hair. "I could have made it back on my own."

"Oh, well," he shrugs, pushing himself to his feet and dusting off his trousers. "Hungry yet?"

"Sure," I sigh, wishing I could just return to the relative safety of my room.We walk back past my room so that I can drop off my clothes, and I make sure to count the number of doorways between it and the bathroom, so that I really will be able to make it back on my own the next time. 

"So, what's the plan for today?" I ask on our way to the kitchen, trying to sound enthusiastic. I know that the tone of my voice can't really fool him, but for some reason I still feel the need to at least attempt to act like I don't hate being here. The truth is, though, I'm missing mom terribly, and would have given almost anything to go home.

"Not much, really," he replies, the corners of his mouth turning down slightly. "But I do have to go and take care of some things at some point, so..."

"You'll need to leave me on my own for a bit?" I guess, trying not to roll my eyes.

"Is that alright?" he asks; his tone once again heavy with concern.

I sigh, gritting my teeth. "Yes, Conner, that's alright. I'm not twelve years old, you know; I can manage without a babysitter."

"If you're sure," he shrugs, ignoring my sarcasm entirely. 

"Well, if that's the case, I happen to know an twelve year old who does need babysitting."

I jump at the sound of William's voice. I'd had no idea that he was walking behind us.

"Olivia?" I grin at him, imagining what she would say if she'd heard me.

"No," he laughs, his shoulders shaking as he walks beside us. "Though if you really want to spend more time with her..."

"No, no," I interject, stricken. "I think we've spent more than enough time together already."

"Yeah, you're probably right," he laughs again. "Anyway, Ari would really love it if you'd drop by; you're all she talked about after you guys left last night."

"Oh," I stammer, unable to think of a more elegant response. "Of course," I grin, making sure to pull my lips back over my teeth believably. I can see Conner watching me out of the corner of my eye, but I ignore him.

William looks almost as unconvinced as Conner. "You don't have to if you don't want to," he says slowly. 

"No, I want to, of course I do," I say, hoping that I sound more convincing the second time around. 

"Great," William smiles, his expression relaxing. "Just drop by whenever, she's not going anywhere."

"Awesome, will do," I say, trying to keep the sigh out of my voice.

"Well, I'd better get back to her," he says, coming to a halt and waving to us. "See you both later."

"Bye," we chorus in unison, pausing to return his wave. I expect Conner to start asking questions the moment he is out of earshot, but he just keeps on towards the kitchen in silence. I almost think I'd gotten away with it, until we sit down in my room to eat our cornflakes.

"What was that about?"

"Mmm? What?" I say around my cornflakes, chewing slowly and deliberately in an attempt to buy myself some time.

"You know what, Stella. That thing back there with William."

I shrug, swallowing my now-pulpy mouthful. "I don't know what you're talking about."

He eyes me critically for several long moments, and then sighs. "Okay, Stella."

I don't know why I am lying to him. He knows just as well as I do how William's invitation had made me feel, but for some reason I still feel the need to keep the reason from him, protecting my thoughts; the only part of me that I can keep locked away from him, apparently.

The truth is, thinking about Ari makes me uneasy. When I'd been spending time with her the previous night, I wanted to give her everything in the world, and to do whatever it took to take away her pain. In the light of day, though, I can remember clearly her haggard form, and the way her eyes seemed to bulge away from her face, as if they were trying to escape the diseased body that held them. I've never felt comfortable even thinking about death, and being so close to it in such a tiny little girl tears me up inside, reminding me of my father, before he passed.

Staring into Ari's eyes was painfully like staring into my father's, so many years before. And as much as I try not to think about it, ever since leaving Ari's room the previous night, I've grown more and more reluctant to return a second time. I'd almost been hoping she'd forget about my promise to revisit, but it is obvious from what William had said that it is far from the case.

This afternoon, despite my reservations, I find myself standing outside Ari's bedroom. Regardless of how uneasy I am around illness, it doesn't change the fact that I'd promised Ari I'd visit again.

Conner raps quickly on the door before turning to face me. "You'll be okay here alone?"

I sigh. "I won't be alone, Conner. I'll be with Ari, and William."

He smiles, pulling me unexpectedly into a hug. "You're right, I shouldn't worry so much," he whispers in my ear before letting me go. "I'll see you later. Try not to get into too much trouble." And with that, he turns around and strides off in the opposite direction, his long legs quickly taking him around a corner and out of my sight.

"Hey, Stella," William says from the doorway, pulling it open and ushering me inside.

"Stella!" Ari's voice chimes from where she sits on the bed, muffled slightly by the duvet that is wrapped around her, all the way up to her nose.

"Hi, Ari," I smile, my worries from earlier dissipating. Somehow, when I am actually in Ari's presence, her debilitating illness seems less of an issue than when she was out of my sight. Besides, with the duvet covering her frame, she almost looks like a regular twelve-year-old. 

Almost...

I move across the room, seating myself beside her on the bed. William moves to sit on her other side, and for a moment it seems like a long and uncomfortable silence lays ahead of us.

"Is Conner your boyfriend, Stella?"

"What?" I laugh uneasily, my cheeks flushing red instantly. "No, he's just my very good friend." I force another laugh, but it comes out more like a bark.

"Oh." Ari sighs, her disappointment obvious.

William snickers beside us, his laughter barely muffled by the hand covering his mouth.

Ari is quiet for a short moment. "Why not?"

"Because," I stammer, the heat in my face spreading to my ears and neck. "Well�" we just don't feel that way about each other." I am quickly regretting agreeing to visit Ari a second time.

"Oh," she says again, her brow furrowing. "So, you don't like him? I mean, like like him?"

"He's my very best friend in the whole world, but no, I don't like like him," I laugh at the use of such a long forgotten term.

"But..." Ari protests, and my stomach sinks.

"Arianna, that's enough," William says sternly, finally managing to smother his giggles. 

"Fine," she pouts, “and don't use my full name, call me Ari, or Anna. You know I hate Arianna.” 

I sigh, relieved. That was the last thing I wanted to talk about. William catches my eye, smiling warmly, and my unease lifts slightly. "Thanks," I mouth behind Ari's back, glad that he is on my side.

William grins, jumping up from the bed. "So, what now?"

Several hours and countless rounds of Uno later, I am worn out, and it is obvious that I’m not the only one. Ari's eyes droop over the edge of her duvet, but each time she realizes that she is falling asleep they flicker open again stubbornly.

"Well, I think it's someone's bedtime," William says, standing up and pulling his arms behind his back.

Ari pouts at her big brother, forcing her eyes wide. "But I'm not tired."

William laughs, ruffling her hair. "I didn't mean you, silly, can't you see Stella's exhausted?"

"That's right," I nod, yawning dramatically. "I can barely keep my eyes open." I squint at her in an effort to further get the point across.

"All right, all right," she sighs, doing her best to sound cranky. It isn't very convincing, though, when she yawns widely halfway through.

I stand up, stumbling across the room towards the door. Ari's delighted laugh following me.

"Stella?"

"Yeah?"

"Visit again tomorrow?"

I turn to face her, smiling widely. "You know it." I am halfway through the doorway when I realize that I still don't know the way back to my room. "Err, William?"

"Mmm?" he murmurs, holding his finger to his lips as he tucks Ari in; she seems to have lost her battle with sleep already.

I incline my head out the doorway, indicating that we should talk outside. He nods, standing slowly to follow me. 

"I don't exactly know my way back to my room," I whisper once the door is closed, embarrassed.

His laugh fills the corridor, echoing off the wooden floors. 

I hold my finger to my lips, pointing to the doorway.

"Oh, no, she'll be fine�" these walls are all but soundproof," he assures me loudly, setting off down the hallway. 

I stand outside Ari's room for several seconds before I realize that he wants me to follow him, and have to half-run to catch up. "You don't have to walk me," I say, frowning at him. "You could just give me directions, or something."

"Somehow, I don't think that would turn out terrifically," he laughs, looking sideways at me as he strides along. "Anyway, I don't mind at all. Ari's asleep already, so she won't be missing me."

 

Author's Note

Let me know what you think!