Ross Huron's New Memories

Ross Huron’s New Memories
September 11th, 2048

Ari wakes to find Ross sitting up, his head in his hands, face twisted in horrible pain, crying silent, silent, tears. “Ross?” she whispers quietly.

“That is my name,” he chokes back, in a bad attempt to be sarcastic. Because he does not feel up to optimisim right now, not when he’s choking up blood and his head aches worse than anything on the face of the earth.

“Ross?” she says again, stupidly. Ross sobs once more in response. “Ross, is anything wrong?”

“Well, of course not,” he says through his tears. “It's not like I’m bleeding to death, mortally injured, prisoner of the Gods or anything like that. it is not like I’ve got mental powers or anything that can see what you’re thinking. it is not like I’m an empath or anything. And it's not like I believe that your pity is real.” The last sentence was spoken with real venom, his words coursing out of his mouth unhelpfully.

“Ross,” she whispers, her voice strained as she leans over the bed.

“NO!” he yells, whipping his face around towards her. “NO! Don’t touch me!” She stumbles back a few paces, her breath catching in her throat. He turns his face away from her, but when he chokes out the next words she can tell that he is still crying. “He’s coming,” he whispers. “He’s coming.”

“Who’s coming?” she asks. “Who is he?”
He sobs. “I can’t block his thoughts – they’re too strong. I don’t know his name. His thoughts – they’re all so horrible. I mean, they’re not horrible thoughts, but memories – memories – Ari, I can’t feel memories, but these are strong…” Ross breaks off, giving another little sob of pain. His face is pained, twisted as he turns back to her.

“Who is he?” This is more urgent now. Her voice is strained, and it rises above a whisper.

“I don’t know his name – he has dark hair, darker than yours –“ Ari self –
consciously looks at her own dark hair. “—and his eyes are dark, and his skin is really pale, and he’s – I don’t know who he is…Ari, the memories…” He sobs again, pain breaking through his train of thought.

“What do you mean, you can’t feel memories?” Urgency, Ari. But Ross does not notice, his pain is too strong, some one else’s anger coursing through him, some one he does not know, some one he can’t know.

“I can’t feel memories… I can only feel the outside thoughts of a person, things they don’t bother to hide. I don’t know how near he is, but he’s very, very close in memory, or in whatever is beyond. But his memories are too damn strong .. he can’t hide them. it is too strong –“ Another sob of pain, absolute pain -- his shoulders shake and he can’t say anything more.

“Ross? Ross?” But he can’t say anything, and she’s unsure of what to do for a few moments, when she places her hand across his shoulders and he lets her hold him, sobbing into his hands, trying not to feel the deadly pain that someone else is transferring to him, the memories that bounce emptily through his mind. And he lets her, lets her wipe away his tears and he remembers his mother, but even this simple thought is too much, and at last, he succumbs to the pain, and he falls limp in her arms. And she remembers her son.

But you should know that nobody should have to carry the burden of Ross. Not even the person who passed these memories on to him.

He does not know that he’s opened a mental connection with his opponent, only that some of the pain has gone for a little while. He does not know if it will come back, but for now he savors the thought of going to sleep tonight and not being haunted by nightmares.

He’s ten years old. He likes playing soccer, the guitar, and doing other fifth
- grade things.

His name is Tanner Rose.

He’s opened a mental connection with Ross Huron.

 

Author's Note

ehe, don't like the last bit about Tanner, I should've kept it a secret.

Ooh, dinner.