A Head's Up

The difference with her friend and the others she had comforted was he needed comfort from a situation over which he had no control. Chase, Jack believed, had allowed herself to fall into positions. Vito had handled things incorrectly. And, well, those were the only people Jack had ever found herself taking care of. But, after what she had seen, she felt no one in this world (or perhaps her small, limited one) deserved comfort than the man before her.

He buried his head in her shoulder and she held tighter, gripping him as though he were a lifeline. He sobbed and she shook, her eyes closed tightly. She pulled one of her hands up to his head, holding it there as her fingers threaded into his hair. She shook her head, her voice choking out the words, “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to- I had no idea- Oh, I’m so sorry, my friend.” She squeezed tighter and rubbed his back.

Jack could have cried. But how strong was she crying? She had long ago determined she was a pillar of strength for those who needed to hold themselves up. She was that strength. But this had tested her pretty thoroughly. She barely trusted herself to open her mouth to speak, open her eyes, or loosen her hold on him. She could very possibly collapse if she did any of those actions. For as long as he needed her there, she would be there. Because she needed to be there too.

Pensieves knew not of the importance of the present. Therefore, it offered Nemo and Jack no pause before it began in its dutiful formation of the next memory Nemo had stored within the vial.

So small were they and their efforts to reconcile the harm that had been done in comparison to the mirage of memories that unfolded throughout the water in which they kneeled. So fruitless and unimportant within the whirlwind of all that haunted Nemo as the images twisted and enveloped them at a frenzied pace, pausing only to insure that each memory had not passed unseen.

Young screams echoed endlessly as they spun around the ruined pair. Sparks of green flicked against an image of a nine-year-old Nemo in stark contrast: “Crucio!” And as the years wore the child, the green increased in frequency; spilling across the slideshow of memories until, save the crimson of the boy’s blood spilt across his fair skin, the radiance of the Unforgivable Curse dominated all else.

“JUST KILL ME!” Wailed a ten-year-old as he fell beneath his mother’s crumpled fist. His skull had been fractured in several places and his eyes painted with the blood that had trickled from his injuries. “KILL ME!” He shouted, teeth falling loose with the introduction of knuckles to his parted lips. “PLEASE! KILL ME!”

Nemo fell from Jack to sit against his heels, his shoulders dangling in defeat against his sides. All expression had fallen from his paling face, though tears glistened against his lashes – but his blue eyes revealed how tired the man had grown against the trials of his life. And with those worn irises he watched as his mother tore him apart, both physically and psychologically, incapable of proposing a counter to the situation that he and Jack had involved themselves in for lack of any remaining ‘fight’.

They were foolish for thinking they had somehow escaped the horrors just behind them or had managed to block them out. No one ever fully escaped the past if it was intent on returning. It was like when a professor told the class to be quiet, and it was then that laughter or a gnarly sneeze decided to rise from wherever such phenomenon originated in the body and demanded to be released. The past came from nowhere when it was least welcome and forced its influence upon everyone.

Fresh screams incited a surprised yelp out of Jack and she gripped her friend tighter. She buried her face against him, intent on blocking it out. She held his head tight against her shoulder, positioning her hands so that they covered his ears. She closed her eyes tighter, gritted her teeth harder, clung with all of her might. What could she do to fade out the sounds? How could she forget them? And if she couldn’t, how could Poe?

He began to collapse and she grasped at him, but he slipped from her grip. She scrambled towards him , grabbing his collar. “C’mon, Poe. How do we get out of here? Let’s leave, okay?” She leaned over him, pulling his neck up so that his head was against her neck, trying to gather all of his sadness, though he seemed devoid of feeling. She clutched him. “C’mon, Poe. Let’s go. Please. Let’s leave. IT’s not real anymore. I am real, and you are, but it’s done. Please.”

"I can't..." His words were but a mere whisper, muffled by the boy's pleas.

"KILL ME!"

Nemo's eyes rolled closed as he was pulled against Jack once more, "I can't..." he repeated softly.

"No-nononono! STOP! HELP - SOMEONE!"

"She's real. She's real and she's hurting me. Make him - make him quiet, Jack," Nemo wept.

"PLEASE!" shouted the child.

"Please..." cried the man.

And the pensieve shimmered, as though with laughter, as all ceased. Silence settled in the nature of dust following a storm, before a great tongue of water swept across the formless floor towards Nemo and Jack. A wave which lapped them from Nemo's memories and with a great thud they were thrown to the floor of Nemo's makeshift home.

"Help," Nemo breathed against his companion's neck, for he was incapable of returning his conscious mind to the present from the disturbance that they had endured. It was as though he had left himself behind in the pensieve's shallow pool; a terrified ten-year-old once more.

Jack shook her head, squeezing harder and harder to show the difference between past and present, to show her immediate effect. "Yes, you can, Poe, I know you can." The child screamed out and Jack gripped the man harder, furiously whispering her encouragment. "Yes, you can. I don't know how, but you do, c'mon, you can do this. I know you can. C'mon." It was all the same but she didn't stop, trying to drown out the screams by fiercely whispering these words into his ears.

Suddenly, the small fabricated world swelled and the two intruders were forced from the world, tumbling back into the world of present and real. Jack clung tightly to her friend, as though letting go of him could mean leaving him behind in this world of his horrors and torture. They fell back onto the ground of beanbags and cushions and for a moment, Jack was silent, her face still pressed against the shoulder of Poe. She concentrated quietly on the breathing of them both, trying to control her own and possibly encourage Poe's to return to normal too.

A small voice greeted her and Jack embraced him, pulling him tightly to her before she released, pushing herself up and using her hand to turn her friend's face towards her. "Poe, we're back. Back in the world where you escaped, where you survived. You're okay, you're here, you're safe. No one can hurt you because your friends won't let them." She grabbed his hand, reassuring him that she was one of those who would fiercely defend him.

In spite of all those traits which Nemo’s personality had, to the eyes of the public, previously consisted of, his chin did quiver against the feather-light touch with which Jack held his head. Through dampened lashes, Nemo cast The Savior – whom had become an even more suiting holder of her title during their disastrous stroll down memory lane – an upward glance as he devoured with a ferocious appetite the reassurances that he was offered.

And with an abrupt lurch of his upper body, the toxins with which Nemo’s earlier achievement of temporary sleep had been reached spewed forth from his parted lips to splatter disturbingly across Jack’s shoes. “Ugh,” He groaned as he reclined to lie flat along the floor. “That’s…” He mumbled, “what you get for messing with my stuff.” Nemo’s words were followed shortly by a pained and nervous chuckle, one which had been offered for no other purpose than to ease the tension that hung heavy in the air of The Source. Not out of anger did Nemo make this statement, but with the attitude of a man who longed to never again return to the conversation at hand. Nemo had evidently dismissed any blame which may have held Jack responsible for the day’s events, having opted to still the spinning room by allowing his heavy lids to cloak his eyes.

“I need another drink.

He swept a hasty hand across his left cheek, ridding of a fallen tear.

"Another twenty."

Jack did not... touch people. Jack wrestled with dragons and arrested illegal griffin-breeders without ever worrying. She faced years alone and isolated and still had kept up a snarky smirk amidst it all. Jack broke the barriers of what most people expected out of an eighteen year old woman. She did not giggle, gush, or any of those other common verbs that were generally associated with her age group an her gender. Jack was not affected by personal appeals, looks, or tears.

Perhaps Jack was changing. Or that strange emotion that led her to those who suffered- Thaor, Vito, Chase- perhaps that was stronger. Indeed, the memories she had witnessed almost felt like they had become her own. She could feel the fear, the terror, the shame, the worry. The need to be comforted. Jack did the only thing she knew to do, which was to comfort. If she felt a need for comfort in the air, she could only try to amend it.

He stared up at her and she gripped his shoulder with the other hand. Suddenly, he jerked forward and she felt her feet begcome enveloped in lovely vomit. She paused and he spoke up. She glanced up and met his eyes, realizing it was his attempt at a joke. A grin unfolded on her face- Jack had been covered in all sorts of creature vomit and execrement and piss. This was not worse.

She pointed her wand and the mess disappeared. He closed his eyes and she tightened her hold on his hand, as though making up for any extra emotions he might have. He said he need a drink and Jack nodded. A tear began to roll down his cheek and her hand twitched, but he wiped it away first. At his next words, Jack nodded. "What do you want? The night is yours, Poe."

Her curiousity still trobbed. But she was too intent on returning her friend to his former glory before she risked anything else.

"What do you want? The night is yours, Poe."

"To die," Nemo quietly replied as he slid three trembling digits across his lips, which tasted foul and smelt strongly of vomit and alcohol. He was feeling uncharacteristically shy and exposed from where he lay at Jack's feet, his limbs outstretched in the manner of a sea star as he attempted to cope with the aftermath of what had occurred. He felt a right fool and a tragedy - not in any order, but simultaneously. And the pain of the memories that rode his mind were unbearable, in every essence of the word.

Avada kadabra: to cast.

A poison: to drink.

A bullet: to fire.

A blade: to slice.

An alcohol: to swallow.

A drug: to inject.

A rope: to hang.

A car: to crash.

A height: to fly.

A pool: to drown.

To sleep, forever.

Nemo's mind delved in the methods of suicide, and he crossed his arms over his face. "Um," He whispered past his fleshy shield, "Give me a minute. I need a minute alone," He begged Jack in the hope of being left with a brief moment's opportunity. 'Twas all he required, after all. He was skilled in the trade of self-destruction.

That was not an answer Jack wanted to hear. She slowly turned around, staring at her friend. His expression was much too earnest to mean anything else but truth. Jack breathed heavily for a second and then looked down at the drink. Jack had always respected the wishes of those she cared about. She wanted them to have freedom, and she did not judge. In that way, Jack could be pretty selfless. But right now, she was feeling a little different.

He wanted time alone, but Jack had no idea what he meant to do in that alone time. Jack could be selfless, but now she was feeling a little selfish. She found that she wanted her friend alive and with her. She did not want to impede on his freedom or wishes, but Jack was also a head strong person who knew what she wanted. And she wanted Poe to be okay.

“I’m too scared,” she responded. “I… I need to be here with you right now.” She glanced down at the bottle in her hand and said, “You’re my only friend, Poe. My only friend. My own brother won’t talk to me. My best friend was murdered… murdered by a poltergeist that I… I created.” She closed her eyes. “And I have only ever admitted that to two people. And one of them was that person I mentioned before. The other… I don’t know, he lost hope in me and that sucks because I was pretty convinced he was the only one who would ever bother settling down with me.” She realized she had said that all much too fast and so she stopped and opened her eyes, looking at her friend. “And now you have my two biggest secrets, and that makes you not only my only friend, but my best friend. And I don’t think I can make it without you. I know it’s a lot of pressure, but you’ve proved yourself to handle pressure pretty well,” she said, a sad smile appearing on her face. “I’m too afraid that if I leave you alone, I’ll come back, and I’ll be back to being friendless. So I hope it’s okay if I stick around for a little while.”

Jack’s opposition had not been an unexpected response to Nemo’s request. He had not believed it to be so simple, the prospect of ridding himself of her protection, for it had never been so in the past. Those who he had mistakenly allowed to wriggle beneath his protective layer and to behold his true, tragic form had so often thrust their desire to live upon him. They would shackle him (quite literally, in fact); preach to him the importance of survival; vow to never allow any further harm to befall him. But never was Nemo allowed to welcome with open arms the end that he so desired. For they could not see with their limited range of sight what he really needed; the rest that he deserved.

But Nemo had not anticipated the counter with which he had been presented. Where the typical “No, I am not going to leave you alone to kill yourself, you fck up,” would surely have sufficed in the minds of any of those who had filled Jack’s present position under prior instances, Jack had offered Nemo a shattering admittance of her own.

“I’m too scared”

Nemo unfolded his arms to reveal his expression of bewilderment. “- a poltergeist that I… I created.” Nemo recalled at once the shadow-cloaked figure that he had discovered, hidden within Jack’s mind during their first encounter. Slowly, he climbed to stand with unsteady feet, meeting Jack’s gaze when she opened her eyes and halted for a breath. And such sorrow did he behold within her familiar eyes that he nearly withered on the spot.

So selfish he had been. But was that not his way?

How could he never have noticed - have read from her the traumas that she had suffered?

Nemo matched The Savior’s pitiful smile with one of his own, followed shortly by another of those faulty chuckles that he seemed to have grown fond of in the short span of time after their return to the present. “You idiot,” Nemo spoke up with the conclusion of Jack’s speech, and with renewed strength he pulled her to himself and settled against her, having grown quite comfortable with having her near. A third stumbling laugh was expelled from him to linger about the side of her head as he elaborated, “You had me convinced that I was the one who needed saving. How were you able to even pretend that what I was put through compares to that?”

“It's gotta be far worse inside your head than in mine, if every word of that was true. I’m just shit at hiding it. While here you are,” He withdrew from Jack, gripping her shoulders to stare her in the eyes with his head cocked, “giving the world nothing to go on but that glint in your eyes. You idiot! How the hell haven’t you exploded yet?”