Nothing wrong with the last chapter posted. It's great to see that Jasmine and Barry can travel back and forth. Could it be that Amos is visiting Jasmine while she sleeps and they couple unbeknownst to her physic Merit awarded!ally? Can't wait for more!

[babyfyrefly]

Chapter 10: Jessica



Bzzzz. Bzzzz. Bzzzz.

Without opening my eyes or lifting my head from the goosefeather pillow, I answered my phone. "Hey, Jaz. I'm sorry to bother you, but can you come get Jessica?" I groaned in response. "I really am sorry, man. I tried to call your brother first, but he's not answering. I think he's avoiding my calls."

I would have too, if I had bothered to look at my phone before answering it. "I'll be there in ten," I said reluctantly.

Ten minutes later, I was at The Hidey-Hole. The country bar was owned by Christian Bishop. As a former high school sweetheart, I avoided him almost as neurotically as I avoided my own mother. He had that West Coast surfer dude deportment, which I found endearing in my youth, but a turn off as I matured. I never understood why he refused to return to California with his family. What did he see in this little East Coast redneck town?

He waved me down when I walked in. It was almost 12 am, and Jessica was the only patron. She had her head down on the far end of the bar, arm outstretched across it, seemingly asleep. "Why didn't you just call her an Uber or something?"

Christian shrugged defensively. "You're usually so paranoid about strangers…I didn't think you'd want me sending her off like that. And if she ended up disappearing…you'd kill me."

I let out an exasperated breath. "Right. Yeah, sorry. Well, can you help me get her to the car?"

"Yeah, sure." He enthusiastically jumped to the call, effectively carrying the small groggy 55 year old woman to my car himself.

"Thanks," I offered as I closed the back car door. Jessica was sprawled across the bench seat, unaware that she had just been carried 50 feet. "And thanks for calling me instead of some Uber. This is just so….old. You know?"

"I feel you. If you need anything, just shoot me a line." He reached around me and gave me an unbidden hug.

"Yeah, thanks," I replied awkwardly. I watched Christian walk back inside before I jumped in my car and drove home.

I was going to try to carry Jessica inside, but elected for the 'leave her where she lies' option instead.

I slept in, the next morning. I did not have to work on Wednesday, so my only plans were to go to the gym and to visit Michael for training. I was frying bacon and eggs, when I remembered Jessica was in the backseat of my car. I quickly turned everything off and ran outside to check on her. She was sitting up, with her head leaned against the window.

"Oh, hey, you're awake!" I opened the car door and she pulled herself out.

"Why did you lock me in there?" Jessica asked.

"Sorry, I forgot there are child locks on those doors!" I offered an elbow as she struggled to put her heels back on. "I just made some bacon and eggs, if you want a sandwich.

"No, no. Just take me home."

"Yeah, sure."

We were halfway to her house before she spoke. "Does this mean we're on speaking terms again?"

"No, Jessica," I replied sharply. She coughed.

"Because I'm drinking again?"

"No. It's because you're toxic."

"I'm toxic? I'm toxic??" She crossed her arms angrily. "You're the one who thinks she's just the smartest, greatest thing to walk this earth!"

"I really don't want to do this right now."

"C'mon. You think I don't know why you became a cop? You just wanted to find him. And when you did, and he didn't want you. Now what are you doing? Filling that big hole by drowning yourself in work?"

"As opposed to filling the hole with alcohol?" I kicked myself as soon as I said it. I did not want to feed this fire.

"Yeah, I'm a fuck up! I'm an alcoholic! But at least I'm honest about who I am!" Jessica screamed. She triggered something in me that overwhelmed my emotions.

I pulled over and pushed open her door. "Just get out, Mom. I am done. Drink yourself into the gutter for all I care, you 'honest alcoholic'."

She slammed the door and I drove off, squealing tires as I pulled away.



*********


"So…tell me about your mother," Dr. Adrian queried.

"Really? That's how you're going to ask?" I joked nervously.

"Well, you brought her up, so I figured that we might as well go there." She adjusted her glasses. "If you're ready."

I shrugged and sank back into the couch. "I guess…but I'm not sure where to start."

"Where did your problems start, do you think?"

"When she abandoned my brothers, to run off with some carnie."

"A circus carnie?"

"Yeah. How cliché, huh? Running off with the carnival. And when she finally came back, like 7 years later, she was clutching a bottle in one hand and a photo album in the other. Literally. She thinks she can just pick up where she left off."

"You say she abandoned your brothers? What happened?"

"I was going to college at the time, almost finished with my bachelor's degree. I was living on my own; had my own car, own apartment, felt like I was handling the adulting thing pretty well. I went over to check in with her one weekend, to see how everyone was doing, but she was gone. My brothers were there, by themselves, almost out of food. They didn't have any way to contact her, and she hadn't contacted them. She was gone. Just like that. Josh was 15 and Daniel was 13. I had to take them in. I couldn't let the system get them."

"That's a lot for a…what were you, 20? A lot for a 20 year old to take on."

"It wasn't really that bad. I love my brothers. I'd do anything for them."

"Since we're talking about your mother, can I ask about your father? You said he left her when you were seven?"

"Yeah." I shifted in my seat, recrossing my legs.

"Do you know anything about him? Why he left?"

"She always said he got tired of being a family man. He wanted to fly free. But I remember…well, I think I remember…" I trailed off, closing my eyes and thinking about the day he had left.

"Take your time."

"The day he ran off…I think he said that he didn't know who we were. He was freaked out. Like he had just woken up in someone else's life. He looked at me…like he had never seen me before."

"Hmm. Interesting. Do you know of any mental disorders that might run in his family?"

"No. His family cut off all contact with us shortly after that." She wrote on her legal pad for a minute. I felt a pinch of paranoia. Should I be worried about my future mental health, I wondered. Could I wake up one day and wonder how I got there? Ruin the lives of people I love?

"So, is that when your mother started drinking?"

"No, that started sometime while she was gone."

"And now she comes back and makes you and your brothers pick up whatever broken pieces of her remain." Dr. Adrian paused, twisting her pen between her fingers. "You know…she's not your responsibility. You are the child. Yes, an adult, but you are HER child. She's supposed to take care of you, not the other way around. You're quite right, to feel defensive and try to protect your psyche. She is toxic. Is she toxic enough that you should cut her out of your life? That is something for you to decide."

[babyfyrefly]

Chapter 11: Rock and a Hard Place





Detective Samson propped himself on the corner of my desk. "Hey, do you want to throw back a few beers after shift?"

"You know, I can't. I'm meeting Officer Fenley and another friend for a bit of sparring later."

"Sparring, huh? I could spar with you," he oozed, suggestively. My stomach churned.

"No, that's alright. Thank you for the offer, though." I huddled back over my case file.

Detective Samson persisted. "What is up with you and Fenley? Are you two a thing?"

"No. We're just friends."

"Well, then, who ARE you seeing?"

"No one. If I was, it wouldn't be any of your business." I was starting to get irritated.

"Are you gay?"

"Take your misogynistic, bigoted bullcrap somewhere else!" I shoved my case file closed, stood up, and marched straight to Chief Holland's office.

Chief Holland looked up from a report he was writing, startled. Detective Samson entered on my heels and closed the door. His presence was not going to stop me from reporting him.

"Sir, I'm tired of this man coming onto me every chance he gets. I have made it clear that I have no romantic interest in him, but still he pursues me. I need you to do something about it, sir."

Flustered, Chief Holland stammered, "Detective…Detective Samson…I need you to step out so I can talk to Detective Harper…"

"I'm not going anywhere. You think you're going to file a sexual harassment complaint against me, but you're not."

"Excuse me??" I exclaimed. "Yes, I am! Your behavior is repulsive! I cannot work around you!"

"But you won't." He lowered his voice. "Unless you want the world to know that you covered up three murders here."

I froze with shock. Chief Holland's face dropped.

"Yeah, that's what I thought. I knew there was something fishy about that whole thing." He laughed. "So, here's what's going to happen…you're not going to HR and I'm not going anywhere. Also, you're going to go on a date with me Friday night."

"What? No!"

"Then I can call Channel 17 and let them know I have a juicy story for them!"

I pleaded wordlessly with Chief Holland. He gave me a defeated shake of his head. "Fuck," I swore. Everything just keeps getting better, I thought bitterly.

*********

I felt the familiar 'snap' as Michael jumped into my mind.

Hey, what's going on? Why are you so angry?

I allowed him to view the memory of my confrontation with Detective Samson. I felt Michael's rage well up. "Maybe we should go to the gym and take it out on a punching bag?" I said aloud.

Oh, I want to take it out on a punching bag. That punching bag should be Detective Samson.

"I know. Me too. But that won't solve any of our problems."

So, what are we going to do about it?

"I guess I've got a date Friday." I felt his disgust, and I was sure he felt mine. If there was a way out of this situation, I could not see it.

**********

Detective Samson already had a table set up for us. He smiled greedily as I approached and sat down across the table from him.

"Ah, that dress is quite fetching on you, Jasmine. I can call you Jasmine, right?"

"I'm not sure. What are the parameters of this 'date'?" I asked dryly.

"'Parameters'? Why do you talk like that?" He took a sip of water. "Are you secretly a robot?"

My eyes narrowed. "No. Look, I'm just doing this because you have given me no choice. I wouldn't date you if you were the last man on the planet. You can call me whatever you want, but when this 'date' is over, I'm done."

"Ohhh. That's how you think this works?" he laughed. "Nonono. If I want you to go home with me tonight, you're going home with me. If I want a second, or third, or fourth date…you're going out with me. Otherwise, your chief can kiss his sweet job goodbye."

I stared in horror at the man across from me. This man is evil, I thought. I started imagining all of the things he might have planned for me. Dread welled up inside. How do I get out of this one?


**********

After dinner, Detective Samson fiddled with his keys as he led me to his car. With every step, I felt this sense of impending doom. I wished I had asked Barry to stake us out, but I had not thought the dinner with Detective Samson was going to get so intense. "Ah, yes, here we are!"

We were standing beside his cherry red Chevelle. As much as I loved this particular car, I did not want to get in it with Samson. "C'mon, get in," he urged. "I live right around the corner." Reluctantly, I obliged.

His house was a small, one bedroom cottage. Once inside, I excused myself to the bathroom. I was surprised and disappointed that he did not have a mirror in his bathroom. So much for that idea.

Samson knocked on the door and then walked right on in. I was sitting on the toilet, urinating. "Um, excuse me?"

"I was just checking to see if you were trying to slip out or something."

"Well, I'm not. I'll be out in a minute." I wished I was slipping out through that tiny frosted window.

When I came out of the bathroom, he had two glasses of wine and a deck of cards waiting on the coffee table. "I just want to play one game, and then I'll take you home." Well, that's not SO terrible, I thought.

I sat down and he started dealing the cards for rummy. "Look," he said. "I'm sorry that I've given you the wrong impression. I don't…I'm not very good with women. I tend to be too pushy. But I really like you. I just wanted a chance to spend some time with you, outside of work."

"It's not that I'm not interested in you…I mean…I'm NOT interested in you…but I'm not interested in ANYONE. I've got too much going on to be interested in anyone." I looked down at my cards and took a sip of wine. I had only drank water at the restaurant, so I figured a few sips of wine wouldn't hurt. I'd still be sober enough to drive home safely.

"Oh, okay. Well, when do you think you'll be ready to start dating?"

"Um, I don't know. It's not something I'm planning." I drew a card from the stack and laid another in the discard pile. Then, I took a gulp of wine, out of anxiety.

"Well, I can wait." I wanted to emphasize that I was not interested in him. Instead, I just focused on playing the game so that I could leave.

After a couple of turns, I realized that I had polished off the glass of wine. Oops, I had not been planning on drinking all of it, just a few sips. I also realized that I felt unusually warm. "Um, I think I need to go home," I said, somewhat alarmed. I started to stand, and he jumped up to grab me by the shoulders.

"Oh, woah…you shouldn't try to stand right now." He wrapped his arm around me and guided me to his couch. I slouched into him as dizziness washed over me.

"What the fuck…did you…? I slid into a blissful black abyss.

Take him to a mirror and let Michael take him to the other side!-problem solved!! Two more very good continuation to the story in a whole! Merit when capable !

[babyfyrefly]

Chapter 12: The Venus




Spasms of pain across my skull woke me suddenly. I gripped my head with both hands, squeezing above my temples. "Aaaagh!" I cried. I sat up on my couch and started fumbling in my end table, looking for my migraine medicine. I was thankful when I found the nasal spray.

After a dose of migranax, I reclined against the arm of the couch. I struggled to remember what had happened the night before. The last thing I could recall was when I sat down with Detective Samson at the restaurant. I assumed by my state and the fact that my car was not in the driveway, I had gone a little overboard with the alcohol and Samson had taken me home. At least he was respectful, I thought.

My phone buzzed. Chief Hammond was messaging me, asking if I was okay. I sent him a quick thumb's up, not wanting to stare at the screen any longer than I had to.

The next time I opened my eyes, Michael was standing at the edge of the hall.

"Hey, stranger. What brings you to my world?" I asked. I sat up clumsily. I felt like a mess.

"Hey. I found something. I'm not sure what it means, but it seems important. You should call Barry and your boss."

Within an hour, we were all huddled around my dining room table. Michael had printed out some images while we waited for Barry and the chief. "Okay, so the people of our worlds are pretty much the same. We have houses and cars and a lot of the same technology. As you know, this gift for creating portals and traveling to this world is known, but rare. My uncle is the only other person I know of that has the power and is still alive. Generally, we don't tend to live as long as other people…our bodies sort of 'burn out' from the travel." We exchanged a glance. I felt the weight of his statement. "The more I dig, the more I realize that our worlds are inexplicably different, yet…inexplicably the same. The geography is exactly the same. Our histories are completely different! Even in ancient times, everything is different. You don't have the Otterwell Towers. We don't have the Pyramids of Giza. You didn't have the Oberg raids. We didn't have Hitler. Yet, somehow, here we are…speaking the same language. I don't understand it." He laid out the printed images. "But then I found this. It's old…very old. And the same in both worlds."

I examined the images. They were pictures of the Venus of Willendorf, a small statue of a plump nude goddess. The goddess seemed to have braids wrapped around her head  (or a woven basket over it). I was familiar with the artifact because I had an interest in archaeology in high school. I knew that it was thought to be representative of a fertility goddess. "I don't get it…why would this be important? Perhaps our timelines diverged sometime after this was made or something."

Fenley slid an image towards himself. "I get it!" he said excitedly. "This is the only apparent connection. And she's an actual goddess, WITH A BASKET OVER HER HEAD! I mean, Amos is practically like a god himself! He can control people like puppets. Get into their minds! And here she is, with a basket over her head! Maybe it's some kind of device or material that blocks people like him from getting into your head?!"

We all straightened. What if it was? What if there was a way to block Amos?

"But how do we figure out what it was? This thing is from like 25,000 years ago." I did not want to be the nay-sayer, but I  did not have any idea how this was going to help us.

"Maybe we can experiment with different materials. Make helmets, like that guy from the comic books who wears one to block telepathy," Barry offered.

"I don't feel like we have enough time to do that," Michael warned. "There's something in the air on my side. I can't put my finger on it, but it feels ominous." He tapped the table with his index finger. "I am going to keep researching. Surely, someone must have recorded something about it somewhere."

"Be careful. We don't know what Amos will do if he catches wind of this."

"I know. I will be."

[babyfyrefly]

Chapter 13: Your Mess




I am not one to clean up someone else's mess.

You have a mess.

A big mess.

An ugly mess.

You are not even aware of how deep you are.

I saw.

I saw him defile you, my pet.

You do not remember, but I was there.

I watched him.

I will teach him.

No one touches you like that.

Only me.

You are mine.

He will pay.

Oh love the implied threat that Detective Samson is about to go bye-bye!! Still thinking it's her long lost daddy behind it all! Merit when allowed

[babyfyrefly]

Chapter 14: No Show



"Mrs. Wexler, I don't know what more I can do." The mother of the unfortunate convenience store clerk had stormed into Chief Holland's office, demanding a satisfying answer. "They determined that the cause of death was spontaneous combustion."

"But he didn't burn to death!" She tightened her grip on the tissues in her hands.

"I understand that. I think it's just a term that the doctors use when they can't explain an unusual natural death," he lied smoothly. He closed the door, aware that all ears were listening. I hoped that he would be able to put her at ease, so that she would not pursue an inquest.

An hour later, they emerged and Mrs. Wexler was thanking him profusely. I admired his ability to defuse situations.

He beaconed me to come into his office after she left.

"Sir?" I asked, closing the door.

"I just had a very interesting conversation with the mother of that teenaged clerk, Ben Wexler."

"I noticed."

"She says that Detective Samson suggested that there might be more to it than we were letting on."

I gulped. "Did he tell her anything?"

"Not yet. It seems like he's trying to get her to dig into it for him, so he doesn't get his hands dirty."

I nodded. "I guess he wasn't satisfied with our 'date'."

"You never told me how that went." He crossed his arms and leaned back in his chair, like a disapproving dad, asking about his daughter's prom night.

"I'm not really sure. I kinda got blackout drunk and don't remember any of it."

"That doesn't sound like you!" It sounds like my mom, I thought grimly.

"I know. But I've had a lot going on. I guess it must have hit me pretty hard that night, or something."

"Oh," he said, his tone significantly neutered. "I'm so sorry. Do you need to talk about it?"

"It's okay. I'm still seeing Dr. Adrian. It helps, I guess."

"Well, I'm here."

"I know. Thank you for that."

"Are you going to be okay, working around Detective Samson?"

"I'm gonna have to be, right? It's not like you can fire him or anything. Where is he anyway? You send him on a stake out or something?"

"No, he just didn't come in today. Or call, for that matter. I guess he's working other angles, though," he said, indicating Mrs. Wexler's visit. "Why don't you and Barry see if you can track him down. Find out what he's up to before he fucks us all over."

***********

We passed by the restaurant that Detective Samson had invited me to. Seeing it gave me the heebie jeebies. I shivered briefly. "You okay," Fenley asked.

"Yeah, I just got a cold chill."

We pulled into Detective Samson's driveway, beside his cherry red Chevelle. The blinds in the windows of the house were all drawn. "Maybe he went on a bender and is having a massive hangover."

"Yeah, maybe." I walked cautiously up to the door and knocked. "Helloooo! Samson! Are you awake?" Silence. I couldn't even hear floorboards creaking.

"Should we look around?" Fenley asked. I nodded, and we circled the house in opposite directions.

It was a small house, with a simple manicured lawn, on a small tract of land. In his back yard, there was only a small tool shed. The blinds throughout the rest of the house were also drawn. It only took a minute or so to investigate around the house and return to the front door. "I don't know. He's probably just sleeping off a hangover, like you said."

Fenley lowered his voice. "Do you think we should try the knob?"

Normally, entering someone's home without permission or a warrant was not something I would do. But I felt threatened by Detective Samson. I did not know what kind of mayhem and destruction he might cause. He was a threat to my family. Not my blood family, but the people I had grown closer to than blood could tie. I turned the handle and pushed the door open. We both drew our weapons…just in case.

Inside, the house was dark and quiet. When I saw the living room area, I had a flash of sitting in the chair closest to the door, with playing cards in my hand. Did I come back here after dinner? I shook the thought. If I did come back here, I certainly did not want to remember what I did if I was terribly drunk.

The small kitchen was immaculate. The bathroom was small and empty. That just left the bedroom. Fenley held his gun at the ready while I pushed open the door. However, the bedroom was empty as well. The detective's bed was neatly made, and there was no sign that he had been there since smoothing the duvet.

We holstered our weapons and checked around once more, just to be sure. "I don't get it," Fenley said on our way back to the station. "Where is he? His car is here."

"Maybe he's out with a friend somewhere."

"Does he have any friends?" Fenley sounded like he found the idea preposterous.

"Or something. Maybe he went for a jog. Or caught an Uber. I don't know."

"Maybe we can get the chief to post an officer."

"Murphy would do it. He loves stake-outs and hates Samson."

Murphy did not have any problem with monitoring Samson's house. He did not even wait around for justification of the stake-out. I found myself wondering what Samson had done to him.

[babyfyrefly]

Chapter 15: Disgruntled Employee


The day was winding down, and I was reviewing a petty theft case. Petty theft was not on my normal caseload, but Detective Samson had failed to show up for a week and a half, so I had to pick up the slack. Officer Murphy had yet to see anyone come or go from Samson's house.

Suddenly, repetitive gunshots rang out. I gripped my desk, knocking a stack of files to the floor. Screams erupted from the city hall side of the building. I did not even think, I drew my firearm and ran towards the shots. All of the officers in the police department did the same. In a moment, we were surrounding the gunman, who was holding a receptionist hostage, with a handgun to her head. A police issue handgun.

I instantly recognized Detective Samson. So did everyone else. Chief Hammond ordered us to low ready, so we lowered our weapons. "What are you doing, son?" Hammond asked firmly.

"I thought it was pretty obvious. I'm a disgruntled employee, holding this woman hostage." Samson sounded aloof - amused, even. The city hall employees were pushing their way around the edge of the room, trying to make way to the exits.

"Come on, son. You don't want to do this. Just lay your weapons down. We can work this out, work out whatever's going on."

"No, man. Nothing's going on. This…this is just me, knocking one off the bucket list."

"Is it your last one?" a young officer remarked. Samson's laugh sent a shiver down my spine.

"See, this kid gets it!"

"Samson, please just let the girl go. We can talk about this. Is it about…you know…our thing?" I was afraid to say 'date' in front of the entire department.

"Our date?" I winced and glanced around. "Yes and no. Don't worry, you were lovely, my pet." The hairs on my neck stood on end. "But sure…since you said please…" He pushed the receptionist towards me, and I caught her as she stumbled away from her. I holstered my weapon and escorted her to the closest exit. A single gunshot rang out as she disappeared through the door. I wrenched around and watched Samson's body collapse on the floor, with a deep red star of blood on his chest. Officers rushed in and grabbed the weapons, keeping theirs aimed on him.

"Step back!" Chief Hammond commanded. I rushed up to his side as he approached Samson. The injured man was bellowing. A strange, victorious laughter. "Is this what you wanted, Detective?"

"Yes!" he declared. The effort caused him to cough up blood in bubbly spurts. "He plundered you, ya know." I felt the warmth drain from my face. Did he know? Did he know about Amos? Or did he think it was Fenley? Chagrined, I staggered backward. With a final cough and shudder, his body went still. My head was swimming.

I was almost to the exit when I heard the chief curse. "Well, fuck. I thought I was done with paperwork for today."


************

The subsequent investigation did not turn up any evidence that explained why Detective Samson decided to terrorize city hall. All of his bills were paid in a timely manner. There were surprisingly no records of any disputes or complaints. Perhaps I was the only woman he had ever sexually harassed. Considering the blackmail, it was difficult to believe. He did not have any written or digital plans, like most gunmen would. He didn't so much has keep a journal or have a social media account.

It did not make any sense to me; why would he blackmail us, disappear for over a week, and then pop up in city hall, like a SecAmend nut off his rocker. He knew that most of the police department would still be in the building, so close to shift change. He had to know he was not going to get out alive. He had to know that his hostage was the only thing prolonging his life. The evidence seemed to imply that he was a lonely man who committed suicide by cop.

That was the official finding, but it did not sit well with me. I kept having flashbacks of his unnerving laughter. The way he so easily and gleefully pushed away the receptionist, at my request. His words 'my pet'. Something about it triggered a tendril of familiarity, but I could not place it.

It had become difficult to practice the mind piloting and shielding with Michael and Barry. I was distracted and jumpy, which made it more strenuous to attempt complex actions.

One day, I became so stressed and overwhelmed that I became partially disconnected from Michael's mind. I could not see through his eyes, but I still controlled his body, and I caused him to tumble down half a flight of stairs. He only had a couple bruises, but I was mortified. It was at this point that Barry suggested that we all needed to take a break, a road trip to relax and put the stress aside.

So, we coordinated a trip to the beach. Michael would travel in his world to the same geographic destination as Barry and I went to in our world.

[babyfyrefly]

Chapter 16: The Beach



"It's breath-taking!" I exclaimed, looking out across the beach and ocean in the Mirror World. The world had its familiar bluish tinge, but the surface of the water also seemed to dance with a spectrum of colors that I had not yet noticed. Everything shimmered like oscillating prisms.

"You know, it looks just like your world?" Michael apprised me. "It just looks blue because your manifested eyes do not filter out the UV rays." I shook my head, smiling in astonishment.

"Amazing," I gasped, taking it all in. I could not find the words to express how awestruck I was by the view. The sun felt just as warm on my skin as it had before I went into the bathroom hut in my world. The wind felt and tasted just as salty. Seagulls squealed on the nearby shoreline, fighting over bits of jellyfish and shellfish, blissfully unaware of the alien in their presence. The waters rolled and crashed gently against the sand before drawing back and leaving the sand dampened and darkened.  It was mystifying how the world felt so foreign, but was in fact, so similar.

"I would hold you, if I could," Michael said. "In moments like this, I would hold you." My face flushed. I had not been expecting such forwardness from him, in that moment.

"I…I don't…" I stuttered, unsure how to respond. He smiled and pushed a lock of black hair behind his ear.

"I know - you don't feel the same way. I've been in your head…I've felt what you feel for me. I just needed you to know the love I have for you. I respect your feelings and your boundaries. I'm not going to speak on it anymore. I just wanted to get it out there." Although he was smiling, I could see the hurt in his eyes.

"Thank you. And I'm sorry…" I started.

"No," he interrupted. "Don't ever apologize for the truth."

We stood, in silence, taking in the salt air and peaceful view for a few more minutes before I returned to my world.


*************

On the drive home, there was a heavy silence in the air. I was reflecting deeply on my conversation with Michael. While the knowledge of his love for me was comforting, in a way, it also made me uneasy. What if he isn't as content with unreciprocated emotions as he claimed to be?

"Hey, whatcha so quiet for?" Barry asked, breaking the silence. He had one hand on the wheel and seemed completely relaxed and outstretched.

"Michael told me he loves me." Barry cleared his throat and straightened in his seat. He put both hands on the wheel and fixed his gaze on the road. "What? What is it?"

"Oh, uh…I knew that." I felt embarrassed. Of course, he knew. "I, uh…" he coughed nervously. "I guess I should tell you that…uh, I…ahem…feel the same way about you." I stared, agape. "But…oh, don't look at me like that…I can feel your eyes!"

"What…why are you telling me this?"

"We just thought you should know the truth. It's so…awkward, hiding it from you. And we figured you would find out, with all of the training. I wasn't expecting him to just tell you…I thought we were going to tell you together."

I felt dizzy. Off-balance.

"But don't take it the wrong way…we're not trying to get with you or get you to choose one of us or anything like that," Barry explained quickly. "Neither of us would presume…with what happened that day. We know it would be presumptuous to think that you would want that kind of relationship with either of us. We just thought we should clear the air before you figured it out on your own."

Well, this isn't awkward at all, I thought dryly.

[babyfyrefly]

Chapter 17: Tenacious Dreams



He stroked my hair. I felt comforted, at ease, with him here. His embrace felt like love was wrapping warm arms around me, protecting me from all of the painful memories. "We are the same," he whispered adoringly. "I understand you. I know you. You are beautiful. You are strong. You are mine." Every word echoed in my soul.

The psychedelic ocean enveloped us. His hands searched my body, gliding smoothly across my skin. I ached for him to be inside of me. Yearned to be one with him. He pressed his body to mine, grinding slow, to the rhythm of the ebb and flow  of the ocean.

I felt like a goddess, swimming in the sea of eternity with my god. "Yes, yes, my pet. You are a goddess. Mortal men cannot please you like I can." I drew him in more vigorously, clawing at his back. I needed him. I hungered for him. He felt my need, responded to it. He plunged into me, filled me with ecstasy. I screamed with pleasure, waking up suddenly, clutching my bedsheets tightly and legs twisting.

It took me a moment to recover. When the waves of euphoria passed, guilt and shame filled the vacuum. I gripped my pillow and curled into a ball, sobbing uncontrollably. Dr. Adrian insisted that these dreams were normal, that my mind was trying to regain a sense of power and control. In moments like this, I was not so sure. It was too palpable.

*************

He walked beside me. The park was dark and empty. The sound of our footsteps echoed around us. "I'm so glad you came back so soon."

I stopped and turned to face him. Somehow, I realized I was in a dream. That this faceless apparition was Amos. That he was not my friend, not my lover. Flashes of memories went through my mind.

He laughed. His laughter reverberated deafeningly. I clutched my ears tightly. "I see. You are getting stronger! How delightful! I suppose it was only a matter of time. "

"What are you doing? How are you here?" I demanded. I widened my stance, ready to fight.

"Oh, my pet…I don’t want to fight you. You are my future. I wouldn't want to harm a hair on your pretty little head."

I was confused. He HAD hurt me before.

"Ah, that. Yes. Water under the bridge at this point, don't you think? If our relationship up to this point is any indication."

"RELATIONSHIP??" I drew back in disgust.

"Oh, don't play coy now. You have been ALL OVER ME for months now. You love being with me. You lust after me. Night after night, you crave me. It's quite exhausting, frankly."

"Why are you doing this? Why are you torturing me like this?"

"I'm not torturing you, I'm tending to you, my pet. I admit, I might have made a mistake with you and Barry, at first. But I see your potential now. I see what you are. And I need you. I need you both, my beautiful children. But for now, we have work to do. You still have a ways to go before you're ready."

"Ready for what?" Children?

He laughed. "No, not yet. I think it's time we got out of here. You'll be late for work."

My eyes opened. The morning sun was creeping between the blinds. I tried to hold onto the dream - there was so much I needed to remember, to tell Michael and Barry - but it slipped away like a ribbon on the wind.

Once more fully caught up with this super original tale for this site! Love how you imply that her and Amos has been so intimate in sleep that she doesn't remember- like a rape of her mind by Amos. Wondering if Amos expects Jasmine to be his queen to his king in both worlds! Meriting you when the rules allows!

[babyfyrefly]

Chapter 18: Through the Storm



"I don't feel comfortable about this," Michael asserted.

"I know, you've said that already." I scratched my forehead anxiously. "I really need you to do this. I'm certain that Amos has been in my dreams. Not just that I'm dreaming about him. He's actually THERE." Michael and Barry shook their heads. They did not want to believe me. I did not want it to be true, myself. If Amos could enter dreams, control them, what else was he capable of?

"If I do this…if I find memories that are hidden…painful memories…you're going to experience them. It's going to be like you are reliving them."

"I already relive painful memories every day." The two of them winced. I had not meant to say it so harshly. "Let's just do this, okay? The sooner we find out, the better."

Michael disappeared through the mirror. I counted to five and placed my hand on the glass. Snap.

Michael was right. I experienced memories as he sifted through them. If it had been like watching movies play out on a theater screen, I probably would have been fine. Instead, I was like I was IN each moment. It was all I could see, all I could feel. Barry had to place me on the bed and hold me down so that I would not hurt myself.

At first, the dreams he found were those at the surface, the nightmares of the night I was raped. Michael's thoughts screamed in agony over my own screams. He pushed through them, digging deeper. Until he stopped. The memories stopped, and I laid on the bed, trying to catch my breath. What's wrong, I thought loudly.

There's…something else here. Not a dream. A repressed memory. It's in this…shadowy space.

What Is it? I asked. He opened it. I was in Detective Samson's house, drinking and playing cards. I stood and he caught me. I passed out. He carried me to his bedroom. No, I shrieked in my own head. No! Not again!

Michael released the memory and I became aware of Barry's weight on top of me. I panicked. I beat on him, twisted, tried to get him off of me. He still thought I was in a memory. He held me fast, trying to keep me safe. "Stop!" I wailed. "Get off of me!"

Michael rushed into the bedroom. "Get off of her, that's not a nightmare!"

Barry retreated. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry!" I sat up and drew my knees to my chest, rocking. I was still shaking from the horror of what I had experienced. "What is going on?" Barry implored Michael.

"That bastard…Samson…drugged and raped her." Barry dropped to his knees. He felt like he had inadvertently violated me again.

I continued to sway, striving to sooth the torrents of thoughts and memories. Barry crawled up beside the bed and offered me his hand to squeeze. I took his hand in mine and could feel him quaking more vigorously than I was. A sharp pain stabbed my heart, and I pulled him to sit next to me. This time, I invited his embrace. We held each other until our storms subsided.

[babyfyrefly]

I'm getting close to the "final battle". But there's so much information I've only hinted at that I want to reveal before the end. I just don't want to do it as a drawn out villain monologue or something i want them to discover it on their own. It feels more fulfilling that way, i think. But that's where my gears are grinding to a halt. I don't know...maybe another Jessica scene would help them get on the right path. Or heidi's remains. I guess I'll sleep on it and return with fresh eyes. >.<

So you reveal what this read thought as more than a possibility Samson roofieing Jasmine!!

Maybe Amos's wife isn't dead, maybe she's in the real world sensing that Amos is near and comes to Jasmine to reveal hidden details of both her and Amos life, like maybe secret instruction, written manuals on how to cross over without killing people!