The space between atoms
(Might be confusing at times; many apologies, but it's intentional.)

"Life is complicated with its, 'Ifs', 'Ands' and 'Buts'. It's alright to be crazy, just don't let it drive you nuts!" -Jimmy Buffet (Life is Complicated)


The journey to the Copper Forge had been blissfully uneventful. Sure, a yeti or two might've tried to follow them, but other than that...

The Copper Forge had been the most obvious, AND convenient place to host their motley crew, since the road was still covered in snow, and they had several cold-sensetive people with them... granted, one of them was Renne, and the other was a hawk that had changed shape to that of a miniscule woman. Dusty trudged his way through the snow, shielding Revanche and Renne as best he could, while Derek kept nudging him on; to stop now would mean certain death in his current condition. The Archangel had said he was returned to life, but still gravely ill and injured, so they had to make haste.

Which brought them to the Copper Forge. Derek paid for a room, and soon enough they were sitting before a roaring fire that Derek conjured in the palm of his hands. It may have been small, but it gave off tremendous heat, and that was what Renne... and Dusty... needed.

Matthew and William, of course, were spectral entities now, so didn't have need of food OR warmth, but they sat near to Dusty anyway to help him stay calm... because they could tell he was not well... or entirely stable.

Dusty had always enjoyed insanity... or thought he had, anyway. It allowed you to get away with saying innane things, or acting as silly as you wanted (within reason). That was before he became dangerously close to actually bearing the title, 'Insane'. He knew that on this and other worlds- WERE there other worlds, he wondered? -handicaps did not mean, 'handicapabilities'. The tolerance of handicapped people, either physically or mentally... or both... was disturbingly low, even here in the world of Rhy'Din... and especially on Earth. People naturally assumed a disability meant roughly... oh, say, an immediate -50 to whatever I.Q. points they might have had. And if a person actually WAS mentally handicapped, then they were considered useless for anything worthwhile...

And Dusty knew he was edging near that mark. His mind, and especially his memories were clear... it was just that he had different memories trying to fit into the same neural pathway, and it was causing a slight blockage. So while he could function quite well, inside he was warring with himself. From anyone outside looking in, there wouldn't be any clues or signs that he was losing his grip on reality as HE knew it.

But that was only if you had not ever experienced for yourself any form of 'insanity' or 'mental disability'. If you had... and if you were possessing clarity of mind and had a mind to look... you would see the signs. He was becoming more paranoid, for one, but the others simply thought it was natural, after what he had been through. Another sign was his inability to organize his thoughts... but again, so soon after his ordeals in Hell, it was perfectly understandable. Or was it?

Had he really lived that other life on Earth? Had there been someone like a brother to him? Had he even been in archaeology school? Was his name even Dustin? He didn't know anymore. But he did. His name WAS Dustin; he simply preferred Dusty. He WAS in archaeology school; his mid-term was due in three days... not that he cared, even when on Earth. Because he HAD been close to someone, someone like a brother, someone that killed themself. Yes, he had relly lived that other life on Earth... hadn't he? Because he was clearly in Rhy'Din... and Renne was still in his arms, writhing and screaming from time to time, but Dusty never let go, keeping him tucked in his shirt, sitting so close to the fire his own skin was starting to blister and turn red. And he HAD died in Rhy'Din...

Died. His heart had stopped. He had frozen to death. He'd gone to Hell. He'd escaped and saved Renne, too. And Renne didn't know him... and didn't want to know him. Even though he came after him, to rescue HIM. But he didn't want to know him. Even though Dusty saved Renne's life... he thought he had, anyway... or helped, at least. Didn't he? Or had it all been a dream? No, he really had done it, even if only in a dream, but he'd done it. The proof was here in his arms.

It was sticky business, being insane, wasn't it?

~ ~ ~

Derek entertained his own thoughts for his new 'Boss'. He was obviously becoming unhinged... but why? Sure, he'd explained it in Hell; the dual memories were stifling and causing problems... but why was it affecting him to THIS level? Was he just naturally... cuckoo? A little off his rocker, unhinged, looney-tooney? It seemed possible... but it could be worse. He knew mental illnesses were very real, and some of them could make a person be violent... but Dusty was gentle, kind, and a healer at heart. But he had another side of him he could unleash when needed; the Lion. The fighter, that warrior with a pure heart and cahones the size of The Kapaal Empire. But usually, a healer and a warrior were meshed, simply different SIDES of the same coin... but they looked like they were becoming seperate entities... and apparently, each one was trying to take presidence over the other while, at the same time, give way for the other.

"Boss?" Derek asked gently, and Dusty looked up cheerfully.

"Yeah, Derek? What's up?" Dusty asked casually.

"You feeling okay? You're sitting awfully close to the fire, and you're getting burnt..." Derek said carefully. Dusty blinked; was this some kind of cryptic message? That he, Dusty, was too close to that burning inferno called insanity, and he was showing signs of it? Or was it simply what it was; asking if he was okay, because his arms were getting a little burnt by the fire? He scooted back a few inches, but would not relinquish his hold on Renne.

"Yeah, sorry Derek... just... thinking." Dusty said truthfully enough; he just didn't say WHAT he was thinking of. Derek nodded...

"Copper for your thoughts." He said, and Dusty shook his head.

"You can have them, if you think you can handle them. I'm losing it, Derek... I know I shouldn't, I know it's an obvious answer and avenue... but I can't seem to take that road... it's like... I'm me, but I'm not me. I'm Dustin... but I'm someone else. And these two people I am, Dustin and the Other-Dustin, we're trying to take a road too small for both of us. Like... trying to fit a watermelon through the space between atoms... on Earth, that's quantum physics. The study of the science of things on an atomic level, looking at the spaces between atoms... and one aspect of it is learning about how to passing THROUGH them. Sounds like magic sometimes, but it's pure science. It's theoretically possible to space out your molecules... your atoms... and configure them in such a way that you can pass through solid objects... except, you're not passing through THEM, you're passing through the space between the atoms. Confusing, huh? I feel like my mind is scrambled." Dusty admitted.

"This, too, shall pass." A calm voice said from the doorway. They all looked up in time to see Revanche, in her hawk form, fly to the shoulder of the man standing there; the one called VD!

"You! You saved us in Hell!" Matthew said, but VD didn't seem to hear, or even see him. "Hey, Dusty... tell him we're here!"

"Oh, yeah! Hey, um, VD... there's two spirits in here... open your awareness, yeah?" Dusty said, and VD blinked, then smiled.

"Yes, of course, I wondered what happened to them... so, they're true spirits, unable to take visible form yet?" VD asked, and they all nodded. "Ah. Well... I suppose we'd better make introductions. My name... well, for now, just call me VD. And you're Dustin, Derek, Matthew... and William, yes?" They all nodded in turn. "Good. This is Revanche; she's an Earth specimen that somehow found her way here... I took her in. A Djinn I caught trying to spy on me granted her a wish to have a humanoid form after she bargained with him. In the past... we had correspondance with Renne via letters."

"You were Renne's Pen-pal?" Dusty asked, causing VD to blink confusedly. "You know, 'penning' letters between 'pals'? Pen-pals... it's an Earth term."

"Ah. Yes, that we were." VD said gently. VD was tall; he was easily over seven feet in height with long, golden hair that went past his hips. His clothing was quite simple; he wore a pair of black pants, and nothing else... unless you counted his left arm. His left arm as made entirely from plants, with a thick, root-like arm, hand and fingers covered in leaves that acted as the skin on his arm and the back of his hand. A few vines wrapped around his arm as well, and they rustled on their own occasionally... his eyes shined with a soft golden light from a youthful face, unblemished or untouched by time past what might have been his twentieth year. Poking from his hair was a small set of black horns, and from the neck down, one might easily believe he was made of scar tissue...

Dusty could not stop himself from gawking. VD did not, however, take offense; he knew some people were unaccustomed to seeing so many scars on one person, let alone a hundred. His entire torso, feet, right arm and back was literally COVERED in scars, some of thick small, some of them enormous, some of them looking fresh, and nobody had any trouble thinking that if he was not wearing pants, the scar tissue would continue... But adorning his back was a pair of wings, large in size, colored similar to that of an Earth Snow Owl, adding a sense of magnificence to this scarred giant.

"I am a Degel, a creature... well, a person who is half Demon, half Angel. I have... never met another of my kind." VD said gently, but shook himself from any kind of a trip down memory lane. "I am glad you're all safe. Dustin, you have my thanks for saving Renne as you did. I don't know if he will remember me... but I certainly remember him, and all the wonderful times we had before... that damn man selfishly took his own life." He growled.

"What man?" William asked, this striking a sensitive spot with him.

"I don't recall his name right now; I've mostly striked the memory from my mind. But he was somebody close to Renne... apparently, he was a little mentally unstable. Originally from Earth, I think; it took a lot of effort to track down this information. But the fact is... this man was important to Renne, and then, one day, took his own life. It left Renne torn... almost literally. He... well, the fact is, Renne ended up in Port South Holding House due to... certain issues." VD was not completely certain as to the reason, and the ideas he did have he was not keen about sharing. "That was when I happened upon one of his letters to the dead man."

"Letters to the dead, eh?" Derek asked gently. "Why?"

"Only Renne could say for certain, but I think Renne never stopped believing that man was alive somewhere... until recently, anyway. I'm missing a lot of information on the hows or whys, but the fact is, Renne is safe... once he recovers, he can decide what to do. I understand he has people waiting for him..." VD said softly. Dusty sighed, and hugged Renne tighter. He always knew Renne would go away again, someday... or did he?

"So, how did you know we were in Hell?" Matthew asked, perplexed.

"Oh, that... I was visiting my daughter, Ivy, and my grandchildren." VD said happily. "They're getting so big, it's really sweet."

"They... live in Hell?" Derek asked. "WHY!?"

"Well, Ivy is a Demon/Werewolf/Fae... her mother was a Werewolf/Fae, and my angelic heritage was dormant at the time, and it didn't pass on to her. Ivy herself is mostly demon anyway, and so are her kids, so they took up residency on Level Eight; they enjoy it, apparently. It's a nice little community, actually." VD said, causing everyone to share a glance. "It's a part of Hell that ISN'T devoted to the torture of damned souls." He explained, but that was just confusing even more, so they simply nodded. "Anyway, I heard through the grapevine that a group of renegades were trying to escape Hell, and based on the descriptions I got, I heard Renne was with them... so I went to assist."

"What was that music I heard?" Dusty asked. VD smiled, and produced... an ocarina.

"This. I learned to play a few hundred years ago, and I learned to channel certain kinds of magic through the melody... to you and the others... especially Renne... it was simply music. But to the demons I was targeting... it was a paralyzing spell, and a fear spell." And VD brought the instrument to his lips, and played a gentle melody for them; all of them sat silently, amazed by the melody...

Except Dusty. It was all too confusing for him, he couldn't follow properly... not with the cacophony in his head.

Rattling the bars
(Emotional turmoil ahead)


"When my mind is free, you know melody can move me. When I'm feeling blue, the guitars comin' through to soothe me. Thanks for the joy that you're givin' me..." -Drift Away


Alas, there were none in the room to witness it. Derek was meditating; it was as close to sleeping as demon-kind came. Matthew and William were sitting on the roof, deep in thought. Even VD had allowed himself to fall asleep, Revanche nestled on his shoulder as he sat against the wall. That should have left Dusty... but it didn't. He wasn't in the room. He wasn't even in the building at the moment.

Dusty had crept from the building to try and riddle it all out. The dual reality in his mind was causing a headache, and he didn't think advil existed in Rhy'Din... not that it would have helped much. He was thirsty, he as hungry... he was cold and disoriented.

He was also getting angry.

The Lion in his mind was sleeping... the Children had since left for Heaven. The few people in the town avoided him... so he wandered out of town, barefoot and without a shirt.

He'd left Renne nestled in his shirt; when Renne had crawled free, Dusty had left the room. Renne obviously needed time to think... so did Dusty. The bitter, arctic cold of the mountain did little to bother him. Even the knee-deep snow didn't bother him as it once would have. No, what bothered him was this inability to focus. The less he could focus, the more frustrated he got, and the more brash and impulsive he became. So was it little wonder when he was confronted by a yeti easily twice his size, he didn't back down? And with how unhinged he was becoming... he was even less surprised he talked to it.

"Hey fuzzball..." Dusty said, and the yeti grunted in confusion. "Let me ask you something... if you knew of two realities that were real... which one would you choose? The one that made more sense but made you more miserable, or the questionable one that made you happy?" They yeti simply snorted, pawing at the ground with its foot for a moment to show it's confusion. "Yeah, I know, confusing isn't it? Especially when BOTH realities are true... to you, anyway." Dusty continued, and the yeti roared, lifting a fist to try and hit him... but Dusty snarled, the Lion waking instantly. Dusty dove forward and landed a blow to the yeti's solar plexus, stunning it, making it whimper in agony and fear. Dusty calmed down immediately, and backed off. It was only self defense... "Sorry, but you tried to attack me." Dusty apologized, and the yeti grunted obstinently, as if it understood. "Hey, don't take that tone with me, young lady, you're the one at fault. I'm just some random crazy human from earth!"

The yeti shrugged. It then stood, gingerly rubbing it's chest, and turned around and lumbered off, leaving Dusty alone in the near pitch-black blizzard... and he sat down, clutching his head, grunting in agony. The Lion had reacted immediately, and that was good... but the Lion was from the Rhy'Din reality. Dusty didn't KNOW if the Lion would have ever awakened if he'd never been to Hell. The Healer in him had also wanted to help the Yeti, but didn't know how, and that frustrated Dusty. No... it INFURIATED him! He didn't WANT to hurt anything!!!! YES HE DID! NO HE DIDN'T!!!! RENNE HATED HIM! RENNE NEEDED HIM! EARTH WAS FAKE! RHY'DIN WAS FAKE!

"AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!! WHAT THE HELL IS REAL!? WHAT... WHAT AM I EVEN TRYING FOR!?" He yelled, and it echoed far and wide across the mountains, even reaching the town, startling Derek awake, who immediately teleported from the room with a loud, resonating sound, like an explosion under water. Derek oriented on Dusty, and materialized near him.

"BOSS! WHAT IN THE NAME OF ALL YOU HOLD DEAR ARE YOU DOING OUT HERE!?" Derek said worriedly, and Dusty simply sighed.

"Just talking a walk to try and clear my head. It's aggrevating, trying to figure out what reality is best for you. It's like, rattling the bars of some guy's prison cell... irritating to him, and his anger irritates you. But are you INSIDE a cell, and he's outside... or are you outside, and HE'S the prisoner?" Dusty asked rhetorically. "Never mind... just... get me back to the Inn, yeah?" And Dusty stood up, waiting for Derek to lead the way...

~ ~ ~

Derek was getting worried. His Boss was becoming unhinged more and more, especially when he tried to force it to make sense. But Dusty wouldn't listen to reason... it made no sense. Renne, the blue kid, he didn't particularly like humans, obviously... but he still came after Dusty. Even if it was purely obligation that drove him, that was real. And Dusty carried him from Hell. THAT was reality... so what was the problem?

"Boss? Talk to me. What's so confusing?" Derek asked as they walked, and Dusty sighed.

"Imagine the reality you knew was suddenly thrown out of whack with the death of your closest friend... imagine that he killed himself. And imagine you felt it. You felt it so realistically that a part of you DID die... in your heart. Then suddenly, you see your friend... different looking, but it's him... in trouble. And in trying to reach him, you almost die. Then you awaken to find yourself already there, trying to save him, and dying because of it." Dusty said. Derek nodded.

"But it's easy; you made it. You're there." Derek said.

"Yeah... but... how could your EARTH friend be alive... in Rhy'Din... and under the influence of something you only saw once or twice a month. The memories he and I shared... gone. He doesn't know them, doesn't know YOU. But you know HIM... and you saved him. When he was already dead, you saved his life. And then, knowing how much he hates humans... he enters Hell and tries to save that human. And then you, that human, save him... AGAIN. But you're dead. Saving someone alive. And returning to life. And reality changes, AGAIN. Now I have a cat in my head, two ghost bodyguards, a demon apprentice and a Demon/Angel serrenading me to sleep. You tell me; what's real? The life you were living, or the life you suddenly awaken to as if you were already doing it?" And Derek could not answer him.

They made it back to the Inn and went to their room to find VD awake and watching Renne.

"Welcome back, Gents. I was worried." VD said tiredly.

"Yeah, so am I." Derek said as Dusty went and sat near Renne silently, just sitting there, shivering, his skin slightly blue from the cold. "I think he needs a shrink..." VD nodded.

"I'll look for one in the morning." He said gently, watching as Dusty fell asleep sitting up.

Restless night
(Dated, present)


"Sometimes, a cigar is just a cigar." -Sigmund Freud


Sleep. How he loved it.

Sleep. How he hated it.

Dreams. How he craved them.

Dreams. How he feared them.

Reality. He knew which was which.

Fantasy. He knew which was which.

And yet, he didn't.

Dustin sat there, fading in and out of sleep and the nightmares awaiting him. He didn't have nightmares in the conventional sense; it wasn't just something scary awaiting him that faded with the dawn. His nightmares were a little more persistent. His nightmares were a little more real.

His nightmares left scars. Literally.

He sometimes awoke with a scar he didn't have when he went to sleep, freshly healed and still stinging. The first incident had involved a dream about black cloaked figures wanting to sacrifice him; he had struggled, in his dream, and awoken with a scar on his left shoulder... it had yet to fade. He had dreamt of a time when he died... literally died... nine different ways; shot, stabbed, poisoned, electrocuted, falling from a third story floor, frozen, decapitated, eaten (That one had been particularly unpleasant) and incinerated. And each time he had died, he had regenerated like some sick, perverted kind of video game character, respawning back into the dream, never allowed to awaken and escape it all. He'd dreamed of drowning, and woken up spitting up water. He dreamed of being burned alive, and sweating heavily... in a tent, outside. His dreams were too real. He enjoyed the nice dreams, the ones where he would eat, and wake up full, or even dreaming of bedding with a woman, and waking up... let's say, refreshed, yeah?

Tonight, his dreams were darker than ever. Demons tugging at his shirt- he knew he wasn't wearing one right now, though -and yetis bitting off his feet. In his normal frame of mind, he knew his mind was simply regurgitating recent events... but why? Why not simply wipe them away? It made no sense... but eventually, the cold awakened him, and he saw Renne sitting before him. He heard the Hunter laughing. He felt, more than he saw, the memories... felt it in his very core. And he didn't try to run away. Didn't even THINK of running... instead, he scooted closer. And he spoke.

"Hey... evil-nasty-hunter-thingy... leave Renne alone... you're not wanted, you're not needed. Renne is safe with us... he has people that love him." Dusty whispered gently. "Renne... I won't hurt you... I'm sorry if I scared you in Hell... I'm... sorry you had to be around me... I know you don't like humans... and... I know... I know you had a life here before I got involved. I just wanted to help you." No, you wanted to help your brother-friend. Renne simply looks like him a little. A voice whispered in his ear; the voice of doubt. Dusty ignored it... but the Lion did not.

"While that is true... the fact remains, you DO know Renne. Just... a different Renne." The Lion roared in his mind... but the voice of doubt took on Dusty's form and spoke.

"Wrong, bzzzt, sorry, thanks for playing, we have some lovely parting gifts for you." The Doubt said, and the Lion faded from view, 'locked' in his cage. "Run while you can; he doesn't know you, he doesn't WANT to know you. He HATES you! He always did! Even of Earth, that FRIEND of yours simply took PITY on you! You had no special skills, you couldn't help him... all he cared about was what you could do for him. And you COULD NOT DO A DAMN THING!" Dusty ignored the voice for now; it was easy to do, he'd been listening to his personal demons shout the same mumbojumbo for nearly twenty four years.

"Renne... I don't know what life you have lived here in Rhy'Din... but you should never have had to endure it alone. I don't know who abandoned you in the past... but that's not my style. I may vanish sometimes... not my fault, I promise... but I always show up again." But the voice of Doubt tried again, and this time, scored a powerful blow.

"You may always show up again... but to what? An empty chair? A void left empty by your missing friend? A spot of blood... the smell of gunpowder? Not even a good-bye note? You know what that means, don't you? You didn't mean anything to him... you never did. Or he might've told you what was wrong..." Dusty clenched his eyes shut. He hated it when he couldn't deny what he felt at times... it was easy to see how betrayed Dusty felt. Not just his friend... but others before him. Cruel, twisted words, misguided gestures of 'kindness'... yeah, Dusty hasn't had it that bad, compared to Renne, but it hasn't been easy, either.

It was a sticky business, being insane... wasn't it?

Dusty sat there, shivering, his breath leaving wispy trails of mist. He was really, really cold, and most healers profess that the best way to warm a person is with ambient heat... body heat, being the best option...

Derek and VD, even Revanche and the two ghosts stood/floated there, watching, waiting. What would Renne say or do to that? To the human begging for acceptance? To the HUMAN... begging to be trusted and believed? By RENNE?

Not all pain is gain


"Hope is good; WE need caffeine." -Mohinder Suresh (Heroes, Season 1)


The human read the words with a stoic expression. He couldn't do anything BUT read. He was too cold to move... and it frightened him. But at the same time, he didn't care. The Lion was quiet; the Lion was gone. Even the Doubt was only able to whisper quietly to deaf ears. But the fact remained that Dusty was shirtless and shoeless and just came back from walking through the snow. He even fought a Yeti... and for what? He wasn't too sure.

It was a sticky business, being insane, wasn't it?

~~~

There was no telling how long it was before he moved, only that he vaguely recalled thinking he needed to. And he moved himself towards Renne... perhaps closer than Renne would have wanted, but there you go. Dusty even reached out to Renne, a cold, shivering hand attached to a shivering human. Rennes ambient warmth was a tremendous help... and eventually, the human curled up on the floor near Renne, sleeping, his erratic breathing starting to settle down. VD and the others simply sighed, and they walked out of the room, letting Dusty have his moment with Renne. Who knew? Maybe it would help them BOTH...

"I need coffee." Derek said, sighing. They went down to the bar; it was empty at this time of night, but VD conjured some coffee and mead for them. Matthew and William floated near-by silently. "Thanks." Derek said, and began to chug the coffee. "What are we going to do? Dustin is in trouble... those memories of his, it's making him unstable. And Renne? Well, hate to say it, but he's never going to accept Dusty into his life... you can see it in his eyes. Maybe it's to protect Dusty... maybe it's to protect himself. Maybe it's both, but the fact remains that Dusty will never have his family back... and I don't think he can accept that." Derek whispered, as if afraid of being overheard. VD sipped his mead and looked at Matthew and William.

"What do you two think?" VD asked. Revanche was perched on his shoulder, nestling her head under her wing, and didn't stir for a moment. Matthew looked through the hair over his face and said,

"I think they both yearn for what they cannot have." He said wisely. "Renne wants his family back... he wants his insanity gone. Dusty wants HIS family back... and wants his insanity gone. They're more alike than they will ever admit." Matthew said. William spoke next.

"Renne is doing his best to protect others from himself... but he needs people... even in Hell, he trusted himself to us even as he tried to be distant. Paradoxical though it is... it's true." Everyone nodded. VD then looked up again.

"Do you two want to have a body again?" VD asked, and Derek sprayed coffee everywhere.

"WHAT!?" He yelped. "What are you saying!? Necromancy is considered Dark Ma-"

"NOT Necromancy." VD said sternly. "Golems." He said, sipping his mead. Derek stared for a moment... then blinked.

"You can... make golems?" Derek asked. "What substances can you make golems out of?"

"Any substance. Stone works best, my Earth Empathy grants me a certain portion of control over it I don't have over other substances... but I know how to alchemically transfigure stone to flesh. It's all carbon-based, anyway... it just takes a LOT of energy." VD said apologetically, but Derek gawked; that was OLD magic...

"How... how old are you?" Derek asked, and VD simply chuckled.

"Old enough to know better; young enough not to care yet." He said, and William chuckled with him. Matthew and Derek blinked, concerned.

"If you can do that... can you cure Dusty?" Matthew asked, and VD shook his head.

"I may be a healer... but some injuries have no cure. And we do not know what is wrong with him. Besides... Renne is allergic to magic." VD said quietly. "Any amount of magic used on Dusty would eventually reach Renne. I'd rather avoid that if I can." Derek blinked then scowled.

"Then how do you propose to make bodies for these two?" Derek jerked his thumb at the ghosts, and VD smiled.

"Carve them, of course. We find a stone mason, and have him construct the bodies to our specifications. Then I perform a simple spell, they inhabit the bodies, and I use Alchemy to transfigure their bodies to flesh. Mind you, they won't be who they were... they won't be able to reproduce, and deep down, they'll still be made of stone. But I can give them flesh and blood bodies, and the semblance of life. I've done it before." VD added, to alleviate their fears. "The magic would be contained within the bodies, confined to their souls; provided they don't vacate the body, Renne shouldn't be affected by the magic."

"Shouldn't, or won't?" William asked.

"Shouldn't. You cannot predict the future, Mr. Harrison." VD said. "There's always a risk in everything; even leaving Dustin upstairs with Renne is a risk; what if that Hunter decides to attack Dustin in his sleep? What if Dustin goes berserk and they end up fighting? Not all pain is gain, gentlemen, but all of life's choices involve risk." VD said, and took another sip from his mead, leaving everyone to their thoughts. Eventually, VD spoke again.

"Well...? Think you're ready to live again?"

I Remember You
Waking Alice
(Ahem, warning. Graphic material and subject matter ahead.)

"You see, before he came down here, it never snowed. And afterwards, it did. If he weren't up there now... I don't think it would be snowing. Sometimes you can still catch me dancing in it."
--Winona Ryder; Edward Scissorhands








Renne woke from one nightmare and into another.

He didn't immediately know why his left leg burned in screaming pain and felt drenched, warm with the sharp, cool tang of his own blood.
Renne knew that about as well as he knew why a silver collar two feet in diameter lay half-atop his fluttering chest.

And then the dream crashed upon his memory.

Renne didn't know how he managed it or why he was driven to run, but he was. He crawled, ignoring the searing pain as transparent bone cut its way fully through blue flesh, down to the Evergreen's main floor, then out into the street. He didn't stop there.
He kept on going, straight on an eastward tack until he heard the roaring of the sea and the howling of a wind heralding a storm.

Renne hated storms.

Half-aware that he was now out here, the blue-skinned creature sat in the sand and let the sea wash over the twisted mess that was his left leg. It hurt, burned, ached all at once but he did nothing about it.
He did nothing about this just as he did nothing about --

--Don't go there.

The Hunter laughed.
Stormhoof.
Renne growled.
Dream.
The Hunter taunted.
Thunder. Fire.

Renne shrank back from the voice and edged closer to the churning waters. Part of him thought that perhaps the sea could wash all of this away -- cleanse the shadows, banish the pain and cool the blazing shame.
Renne was barely aware of the world around him and he found his shoulders shrugging off yeti fur that wasn't there. He found his right hand moving to shear off his long hair.
It wasn't there to cut off.

Foaming seawater mingled with the thin blue blood pouring from his leg. Rain poured down as the skies opened up in a single, deafening thunderclap.

Rain and tears mixed with the sea as they fell to meet it.

-His mind heard it all again. Thunder. Words. He felt the cold of snow beneath himself and smelled the lingering remnants of a fresh pot of coffee.
He heard laughter and howls of pain in a single voice. He heard his own asking questions that would never be answered.
Renne felt more than heard the sound of more hearts than his own as they broke.-

Renne sat in the wet sand, waist-deep in the rising tide. He hadn't let a soul see it, but this thing he pulled out of his pocket, Renne clung tightly against his chest. he began to talk to it, stroking its yellow-gold hair. His hand traveled from the hair down its little queue, tied off with a scrap of blue silk ribbon. Fingers investigated the miniature wool uniform complete with a tiny wooden sword at its belt.

Rationally, he knew it was an inanimate thing, nothing but cloth and his own hair stitched together and stuffed with buckwheat.

He threw rationality to the wind as he sat there in the rising tide, talking softly to a forever silent, heroic miniature doll.

Vniversal Trvths (Part Two)
"Did anybody tell you WHY the Titanic was famous?" -Dr. Who (Christmas Special)


John Rashe was his name, being a psychiatrist was his game. Not that he was especially good at it, but it paid the bills; there was always some well-to-do rich fellow needing to be told he was never hugged enough as a child or a fellow psyche-doc that needed a nightcap at three in the afternoon. The problem was he had to do it on Earth.

Earth. The very word meant 'dirt', as in, 'dirt poor' or 'dirty'. It also could be taken as, 'soil'. And we all knew what soiling yourself meant, didn't we children? Ah, but a job was a passion, and a passion was a job... strike that, reverse it.

"Who the bloody hell are you?" John Rashe asked the strange fellow that materialized on his beach. He wasn't upset... not particularly. Just very confused and rather... well, ok, he WAS upset. He'd been stuck on Earth for god only knew how long, unable to return to the one place where everything made sense.

Rhydin. The word itself meant Rhydin. And Rhydin was a world of magic and order. John missed it. He missed his patient, Renne. Renne had been absolutely intriguing. And friendly. And cute in his own blue-furred way. And then Rhydin decided he wasn't needed anymore and flung him back to his office on Earth. Ugh.

"Dustin..." The human laying on the beach replied, and John nodded.

"Okay, Dust-head, where did you come from?" John asked.

"Blame my parents." Dustin replied, making John laugh.

"Seriously now... where did you come from?" John asked, starting to like this kid.

"Rhydin." Dustin said, and now he had Johns full attention. "My head... ugh... OW!!!" Dustin cried, clutching his head between his hands with a fierce growl. John took a step back, just in case. "Make it stop... MAKE IT STOP!!!!" Dustin yelled, and it echoed far and wide. "SHUT UP!!! YOU'RE NOT MY BOSS!!! RENNE DOES NOT HATE ME!!!" NOW John was completely absorbed with whatever this guy might have to say, at the utterance of that name.

"Come on kid... focus... see through the pain... the pain isn't there... it's an illusion..." John said. It was a basic hypnosis exercise, one he had used on himself a few times. "Calm... center... cool..."

"C-calm..." Dustin said, trying to focus, desperately trying to ignore the pain... but blood was starting to drip from his nose, so John decided to take a chance.

"Come on, get up! Hurry! You're bleeding!" John shouted, and helped Dustin to stand. Dustin didn't want to move, the pain was agonizing, all he wanted to do was bash his head into the closest brick wall until he passed out, but John wouldn't let him stop. John forced him to walk up the beach to the hotel he was staying at, all the while thankful for the fact he had a water front, floor suite. Sliding the glass door open, John hurried Dustin to the bathroom and got him there just in time; Dustin lost whatever was in his stomach, forcibly aimed at the toilet. John sighed; as least he didn't have to pay the cleaning lady extra this time. "There you go... feeling better?"

"Urp." Dustin responded gently, moaning as he sat there.

"Good answer. Now... what's this about Renne?" John said, his recording pen at the ready, shoved under Dustin's nose.

Vniversal Trvths (Part Fovr)
"The devil made me do it." -Anyone


John Rashe was not accustomed to hearing about portals, anywhere.

He was even less accustomed to hearing about them anywhere near anywhere he was.

To be ASKED about one, in his living room...?

But hey, as he liked to say, 'Go with the flow', so that's what he did.

"To be perfectly honest, I have no clue why there's a portal in my living room... wait, you know what? Whoever is speaking to us says he told whoever he's informing of his presence and REASON for his prescence is that he said he, being the person he informed, would indeed bear witness to him, the speaking, that is, again. I have never had the opportunity to meet anyone capable of creating red portals, thus I must concur that YOU, Mister Dustin, are the reason there's a red portal in the wall." John Rashe said, resisting the urge to rub his skin nervously. "Any idea who or WHAT can make me feel like I've just joined the Polarbear Club and taken my first dip when I just got done roasting on the beach an hour ago?"

"Not to split hairs, but an hour ago, you introduced me to your friend 'Mary Jane'." Dustin whispered as the portal got bigger.

"Again. Beach. Roasting. Ah, I'll teach you later." Rashe said. He was exceptionally on edge now and he, well, hated being on edge. It made him edgy.

"DUSTIN... MORTAL... I HAVE COME FOR YOU." That creepy-as-sin voice said.

"Hey, whoa, whoa-whoa-whoa!" Dustin said, his voice raising an octave or ten. "I haven't got the means to defeat you, it wouldn't be a good spar for you!" John Rashe raised an eyebrow; THIS was getting interesting. He got out his SUPER Recorder Pen, capable of recording up to three hours of conversation.

"IF YOU THINK MY DEFINITION OF A GOOD SPAR MEANS I MIGHT LOSE, YOU ARE WRONG. I DECIDED THAT IN ORDER TO ENJOY MYSELF, I NEED TO DESTROY YOU." The voice said. "COMPLETELY. YOU, THE LION..."

"The Witch and the Wardrobe? OH I love that book!" John Rashe piped in. Dustin and even the voice itself seemed to just look at him, as if they had forgotten he was there. "What? Bad moment? You seem like an very obsessive personality, Mr. Voice-That-Makes-Me-Shiver. Perhaps you should talk about it with me... hmm?" John asked, Recording Pen at the ready. The 'Voice' started to snicker. "Ah-ha... judging by your resistance to talk about your issues, you are not only obsessive, you are also paranoid about others discovering your true motives, and THAT makes me believe that your whole, 'cloak and dagger' routine is merely an extension of yourself, a persona meant to protect you and give you autonimity." John Rashe said, putting his glasses on. He clicked his SUPER Recording Pen twice. "Subject is obsessive complusive with paranoia issues."

"THE ONLY ISSUE I HAVE IS WOUNDED PRIDE." The Voice said.

"AH! An obsessive, proud personality! THAT means you are meticulous with your actions and words, and you don't believe in wasting an oportunity for FEAR, there's that paranoia again! Yes, sir, for FEAR of letting down some memory of whatever hero you have that would grind you to pulp, either verbally or literally, if he, or she, ever saw you stumble for any reason other than God HIMSELF sticking his foot out! Let me guess... your father has a vengeful streak a mile wide, he HAS to be the Lord of EVERYTHING, and if you so much as question him, or his motives, he'll strike you down and throw you to the dogs?"

"YOU HAVE NO IDEA HOW SQUARELY ON THE HEAD YOU JUST HIT THE NAIL. I CAN SEE WHY YOU GRADUATED TOP OF YOUR CLASS, JOHNATHAN CARMICHALE RASHE. AGE THIRTY-EIGHT, MOTHER IS ALICIA AMBER RHOLANDA-RASHE, YOUR FATHER IS CACEAUS RONALDO COPERNECUS RASHE. YOU GRADUATED THREE YEARS AGO TOP OF YOUR CLASS, MAGMA KUM LAUDE, BETA PHI DELTA, CHAIRMAN OF THE NATIONAL BASKET-WEAVER'S ASSOCIATION... NICE CROSS WEAVE, BY THE WAY." The voice 'complimented' him.

"Well, thank you... but... what's your name?" John Rashe asked. He was thoroughly rattled.

"YOU HAVE THE HONOR OF HEARING MY ARABIC NAME; SHAITAN." Shaitan said.

"Ah, an alias. Again, that's the paranoia issue, possibly a Massiah Complex." Rashe said. "Well, to what do I owe the honor, Mr. Shaitan?"

"I HAVE JUST HAD A WONDERFUL IDEA." Shaitan said, and the moment he did, Dustin shoved Rashe towards the door.

"RUN! I'LL DISTRACT HIM!" Dustin said. But Rashe didn't move.

"Idea?" Rashe said confusedly. "An idea? Is it a wonderful, AWFUL idea?"

"NO, MISTER GRINCH. BUT YOU WANT TO KNOW SO MUCH ABOUT ME..." An enormous hand reached from the portal and grabbed John Rashe by the waist, and he gave a yelp as he struggled to escape; hey, only a crazy person wouldn't try! "THEN COME WITH ME. DUSTIN... IF YOU EVER WANT TO SEE YOUR SHRINK AGAIN, YOU'LL COME DOWN TO HELL AND FIGHT ME! MUAHAHAHAHA!!!!" And as the portal closed, Dustin distanctly heard Rashe say,

"Nice evil laugh, how long have you been working on that? You know, the evil laugh, it's symbolic of a painful past..." And the portal closed.


(BY the way... the mispelling regarding 'Magma Kum Laude'? For some reason, spelling it properly, with a 'C', is bad, and they put asterisks in place of the word... hence the, er, purposeful editing. Sorry.)

Vniversal Trvths (Part Six/End)

"There's no place like home." -Dorothy Gale


"And, how does that make you feel, Satan?" John Rashe asked.

"WELL, NOBODY SEEMS TO UNDERSTAND HOW DIFFICULT IT IS BEING THE SUPREME OVERLORD OF DARKNESS... ESPECIALLY IN A WORLD THAT HAS NO LESS THAN TEN OF THEM!" Satan replied tearfully.

"Now, you say Rhydin has so many Supreme Overlords of Darkness... what's stopping you from being simply THE Overlord of Darkness?" John Rashe asked. He was perched on the edge of the largest psyche-couch ever, the ground several meters beneath him, while Satan lounged on it, having his first psycho-therapy session in eons.

"THE FACT THAT SO MANY OVERLORDS EXIST! I MEAN, COME ON, YOU'RE FROM EARTH, IF THERE'S A HIGH NUMBER OF PSYCHOLOGISTS, EVENTUALLY SOMEONE OVERLOOKS YOU AND FORGETS YOUR EXISTENCE!" Satan pointed out.

"Let's not make this about me, Satan, we're here for YOU..." John said calmly, patting his large hand sympathetically. "It's okay, let it out, nobody is here except you, and me."

"NOBODY UNDERSTANDS ME LIKE YOU DO, DOCTOR RASHE..." Satan said tearfully, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand. Suddenly, they heard a loud voice say,

"SATAN! YOU BETTER GIVE JOHN BACK!!!" And Dustin came rushing into the room, and upon taking one look at where John was, he skidded to a halt with a loud 'screeeeeeech!' "Huh...?"

"DUSTY!" John called. "Glad you could make it! Sorry Satan, but I have a previous engagement I have to see to. You've made excellent progress today, we can continue this tomorrow."

"THANK YOU, DOCTOR." Satan said, and set John on the ground gently. "OH, YEAH, DUSTIN... FORGET IT. I DON'T FEEL LIKE SPARRING TODAY..." Satan said gently, and settled on his throne.

"We-wha-wo-what?!" Dustin gibbered.

"Hey! Dusty!" John said, patting him on the back. "Great news, I got a new client today. But in confidentiality, I cannot tell you anything about his session..." John said, giving a small, apologetic smile. "So, Satan... where shall I send the bill?"

"BILL!?" Satan cried.

"Well, yeah! I mean, you DO have insurance, don't you?" John asked, forgetting Dusty was there.

"I'M THE OVERLORD OF DARKNESS! I DON'T NEED ANY STINKING INSURANCE!!! YOU SHOULD BE GLAD I'M NOT GRINDING YOU INTO A PULP RIGHT NOW!"

"Satan, we talked about that..." John said gently. "The overbearing anger does nothing but reaffirm your fear of being weak..."

"GAH... YOU'RE RIGHT..." Satan said sadly, and Dusty blinked confusedly. "I DON'T HAVE INSURANCE... HOW ABOUT MONEY? I CAN PAY CASH."

"No... but a favor works even better." John said.

"A FAVOR?!" Satan cried. "BUT...!"

"But nothing. And it's a SIMPLE favor, too. Send Dusty back to Rhydin... and grant him access back and forth between the worlds whenever he wants."

"WHAT!? THAT'S OUTRAGEOUS! WHY I OUGHT TO... TO..." And the Lord of Darkness quelled under his psychologists glare. "OH... VERY WELL..." Satan sighed.

"Um, Doc..." Dusty said, confused. "What in the name of all that's sweet and tangy is going on here?"

"I'm getting you back to Rhydin, what else?" John said, making notes on his clipboard.

"But... I... how did you know I'd come here to try and save you?" Dusty asked, confused.

"I had faith in you... I figured you needed some time to think, you got it, now you're ready. You got over your own issues to save someone you barely know; even if your memories of Renne is false, you have shown you have the compassion and dedication needed to help him. Go to Rhydin and be near him. If he can't see you for who and what you are, then he's more than just physically blind." John said, walking to the portal that would take him home.

"So..." Dusty began, then waved it off. This was WAY over his head. "What do I have to do to get to Rhydin? Click my heels three times?"

"NO. JUST GO THROUGH THAT PORTAL. WHEN YOU COME OUT, A DEMON WILL GIVE YOU A TALISMAN THAT WILL PERMIT INSTANTANEOUS TRAVEL BETWEEN THE WORLDS." Satan said, gesturing at a portal opposite John Rashe's. Dusty simply blinked and, not wanting to look the gift demon in the mouth (They all had pointy teeth anyway), he walked through the portal, humming to himself,

"Follow the yellow brick road." And when he opened his eyes, he was sitting in the tavern on the floor.

Defiance
(Warning.)

"Life is not easy for any of us. But what of that? We must have perseverance and above all confidence in ourselves. We must believe that we are gifted for something and that this thing must be attained." -Marie Curie


The black... thing... kept coming closer to Dustin, forcing him, both physically and mentally, to the edge of the cliff. He perched there, like an obscene, organic gargoyle unable to spout water from the mouth, letting it flow from his eyes instead. He gritted his teeth in a pained expression, his vision blurry save for the black mass before him. He could not look away. He dared not try. He stared into that unholy abyss, staring at his past, his future... his near future, if he was caught by it. All came from darkness; all returned to it, that loving, terrible embrace of the ever-night. There was no lantern to guide him. There was no hand to hold his. Nary even an apple to tempt him. This swirling black mass bubbled and moved closer; the closer it was, the dimmer the area became, like a living shadow that devoured the light in the sky and the hope in your heart. It was then that Dustin knew his fate. It was then he defied it.

"Come and get me, if you want me." He hissed through his teeth, and dove from the cliff he stood upon. Like a snake, the black mass coiled and sprung after him, but missed by the hair off an angels head; it stood upon the cliff, if such a word applied, and stared after Dustin. Then it poured itself down the sheer rock and followed him, like an obscene waterfall. Dustin fell, despite his weight it felt as though the air was carrying him gently down at a slow pace; the ground did not approach him at the speed he expected, but the black falling mass was rushing to meet him in mid-fall, and he did not want that. He had been falling facing up; his back to the ground, spinning and twirling, but now he pointed himself down and dove at the ground as a hawk would upon finding the plump mouse it hungered for. Faster and faster he fell, the wind and snow blinding him, he felt his blood begin to freeze in his veins as his heart pounded faster in his chest. Were that it could, his heart would plunge itself to the ground in a moment, to fulfill the grotesque desire to KNOW... to know WHAT death was like in this form. Dustin was rare, a being who knew Death in many forms, and in one instance, succumbed to it. Now he was granted another chance, a truly unorthodox circumstance in which he now willingly threw it away to escape the death that stalked him. He knew his fate.

He defied it.

The ground was now coming to meet him; the black death that followed could hardly keep pace now. Dustin could hardly keep aware of himself. The fall itself should have killed him. But it did not. It WOULD not. That was not his way to die. It was not his choice. He would not leave himself to the idle pondering of Fate or Destiny. He would not let them, those invisible directors of life and love, choose his parts. He would not let them choose his roles or his lines. He knew his fate.

He made it.

The ground was approaching faster and faster by the moment. The moment of truth was upon him. He would escape that black cloud in the manner of HIS choosing. He knew his fate.

He would not succumb to it idly.

"Embrace me, death. I have come to greet you." Dustin said.

Sadly, every choice has a consequence. The ground did not meet him; the moment the words left his lips, something faster than the wind grabbed him and carried him into the air; the black cloud threw itself at him and fell to the ground, vanishing from sight. And when the human named Dustin turned and looked at what had carried him from his soon-to-be grisly fate... he wondered who he pissed off in a previous life.

"Now is not your time, Mortal." Azrael told him calmly. (To be concluded)

Racing the clock... and the clock is winning.
(Warning. This post is by far the longest post I have typed, and very possibly, the most emotional.)

"The universal truth is that everyone is utterly alone. Humans spend their whole lives trying to fill a void in their heart, reaching for briers and branches alike, whatever they think will hold. But when you find that one person you never knew you were waiting for, after your heart has grown cold and turned to stone, you see life for what it really is. Life is a journey, a miracle, an inspiration. You are born destined to die. The meaning of life is to endure your life to the best of your abilities, and leave your mark upon the world. We are alone until we are completed." -The Mun


From his own perspective, he was waking up. It had been a long, horrible nightmare ending in his flight from atop the cliff and the timely intervention of the Archangels. Why had he ever thought things would turn out badly? No doubt things were going to be looking up; he'd hit rock-bottom, yesterday, hadn't he? So why did everything feel so... surreal? Ah, no matter. He swung his legs over the side of the bed and placed his feet on the warm wooden floor, savoring the smooth texture and the joy it gave him. He was alone in the room, but that was not surprising; VD and the others were searching for materials to build bodies for the ghosts; if he recalled properly, even Renne was looking. He gave a stretch that felt good all over, rousing the more sluggish parts of his body to wakefulness. He glanced about the room, and saw on the nightstand the pebble he was given, proving that yesterday wasn't a dream... but what a dream he'd had. He'd seen a ship, skeletal, on its last anchor, sailing through an unnatural mist on the high seas. And he had heard singing, as a siren might've done. But it wasn't any singing that told him to come closer. If anything, it was warning him away... but he'd had enough of that attitude. He wasn't going to give in to those thoughts any longer. Today was a new day...

"You came back." A voice whispered viciously from the window. Dustin turned and saw something small and hunched over, kneeling in a beam of sunlight...

"Renne?" Dustin asked, approaching.

"Why did you come back, human?" Renne(?) said. At this, Dustin knew this thing, whatever its shape, couldn't be Renne; Renne didn't speak that clearly.

"You're not Renne! Who are you!? What do you want?" Dustin said, reaching out to force this thing to turn about. But as he touched it, he yelled and yanked his hand back; it was hotter than a tin roof in July, whatever it was. And as it turned to look at him, its eyes were blood red and glowing as vicious coals in a blazing hearth might. And as it turned, it transformed into the very beast Renne had become in Hell, and it spoke to him in that same, terrible voice.

"Why did you return? We didn't NEED you..." The Renne-Monster said. Dustin took an unconscious step back, fear creeping into his heart. "We were happy. We were sufficient. We were GLAD you left." Dustin shook his head, snarling despite the fear.

"YOU'RE WRONG!" He roared. "MAYBE THAT DEGEL DIDN'T NEED ME! BUT DEREK DID! THE GHOSTS DID! And whether or not you want to admit it, I helped save you! If you didn't really care about me, why did you come after me in Hell? Why help me escape at all?"

"To repay a debt. I HATE humans, the thought of owing one anything is unbearable!" It growled in a voice that couldn't be imitated even if you had twenty musical saws and thirteen untuned harpsichords. It hurt his ears yet he didn't dare try to tune it out. He didn't dare look away, either; he feared the moment he did, whatever this thing was, would strike him with venomous fangs. He took another step back, his mind torn in two; one part looking at the danger before him, the other keen on his senses, looking for the door without his eyes. "How dare you think I needed the help of a worthless human! You can't help yourself, yet you insist you can help others?"

"I can help others!" Dustin snapped, stomping his foot in aggravation.

"How pathetic... you're acting like a child, throwing a temper-tantrum... so BE as a child!" The thing snarled, and Dustin felt himself shrinking, his clothes becoming looser and looser as he did, until finally he was not incomparable to a five year old.

"Uh... ah!" Dustin cried, terror gripping him by the throat. "Change me back! Change me back! I don't want to be a little kid! I did that already I'm an adult now!" But the Renne-Monster simply chuckled malevolently, and crept closer to Dustin.

"But WHY? Aren't we alike, now? Isn't that what you wanted? Now we have something in common..." The Renne-Monster moved even closer, and Dustin stumbled over his overly-large clothes. With his size came the same mentality; he had regressed in mind and emotion as well as body... and he screamed. He screamed so shrilly and piercingly it was a wonder the windows didn't shatter. He scrambled and tore from the room like a fiend possessed; the Renne-Monster followed him, always never more than a step behind... Dustin burst out of the inn and drew a breath so harsh it hurt his throat; the streets were barren and empty. Though, empty was not quite the proper term... the streets were devoid of anyone living, yes, but the corpses...

The corpses that littered the street were a horrific sight to behold for anyone, let alone a five year old human child. Each one of them appeared to have died by some different means; fire, plague, decapitation, mutilation, some even looked dissolved and some were half-eaten... and if the faces were any explanation, they had started to be devoured when they lived. Some looked like they had bled to death, some of old age, some looked as though they had drowned or froze to death. There were so many forms of death; some looked strangled, poisoned, stabbed, crushed, some even looked as though some kind of bomb or magic spell backfired; there was more death here than even Dustin knew how to place, though mummification's and impaled corpses were visible... And each one of them was whispering one word;

'You.'

Dustin stood for a moment too long; the Renne-Monster charged into him and sent him flying into a pile of decaying corpses. The moment he touched them, they stirred and reached for him, trying to hold him down, snarling and hissing with fetid breath. Dustin screamed and cried, their touch revolting and unbearable, and he finally broke free and ran for the edge of town, each of the corpses getting up and following behind the Renne-Monster...

Dustin ran through the snow, hearing that mob right behind him at all times; even zero visibility in a blizzard didn't shake them. He finally reached the edge of the cliff where he had dove just yesterday, and turned around, tears freezing to his face... and a new terror formed. Because that undead mob was melding together into a gigantic mishmash of death... and the Renne-Monster, the beast that had hunted him to this cliff... joined them. And when it touched that Gigas-corpse, it turned into that black cloud...

"No... leave me alone!" Dustin cried, weeping as he stood in terror of the thing. "I want to go home...! Mommy...!" He hiccuped as he sobbed, the five year old. "I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I didn't mean to insult you! I just- hic! -wanted to help!" He sobbed, the tears freezing to his bare skin, the snow clinging to him like a cloak. "I didn't mean it! I didn't mean it! Please, don't hurt me! DON'T HURT ME!" The terror was all-consuming... and when the black cloud lunged at him, he flinched and fell over the cliff. "AHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!" He screamed, and as he fell, he felt that, somehow, he lost something important, and within moments, saw the ground was barely ten feet away... nine feet... five feet... three feet...

* * *

"What's wrong with him? Why won't he awaken?" Derek asked, looking down at Dustin. He was sweating, and thrashing about, his face pale as a sheet and muttering in his sleep. Nothing he or VD did could awaken him from whatever nightmare he was having. He was screaming now and again, wordless screams of fear and terror. He placed another damp rag on his forehead to try and help tame the fever...

"He's trapped within his own mind." VD said. Revanche was sitting on the windowsill, the two ghosts hovering near, apprehensive faces watching Dustin as he thrashed. "Whatever is happening in his mind, it isn't good..."

* * *

Dustin awoke in a cave, full grown and fully clothed... but why wouldn't he be, he wondered? Sure, he was a little scared, but that was a natural reaction waking up in an unknown place. He felt around and noticed how smooth the walls were... and how humid it was. There was a faint sound, like a distant roar... he felt it in the wall, shaking as whatever was outside this containment contraption roared. Suddenly, with a great grinding and clanking, a pair of doors opened on the far end of the room, and blinding sunlight poured in, blinding him.

"HEY, WHAT GIVES?!" Dustin yelled, fear edging its way into his mind.

"Come on, gladiator! Caesar awaits!" A Roman Guard said. Gulping, Dustin wondered how the hell he was in Rome... he was sore, as if he'd just taken a tumble off a cliff, and he attributed that to yesterday; after-all, how often did people face black clouds and get rescued by the Archangel of Death? He stumbled into the coliseum, the hot sand beneath his feet scorching his skin. The roar he had heard belonged to the crowd, cheering and jaunting. He gulped nervously; I'm screwed.

"Ave Caesar, morituri te salutant!" Another gladiator cried. Dustin sighed and figured he might as well...

"Ave Caesar! We who are about to die, salute you!" And he flipped 'Caesar' the bird. The crowd roared it's disapproval, but Caesar took it in good stride...

"KILL THEM!" Caesar cried. And the Guards pulled upon the chains hidden in the dust, and pulled the doors open... to reveal tigers. Three of them. For three Gladiators. Merde.

Dustin was currently without weapon or shield of any variety... but that was soon remedied. One of his fellow gladiators was no-longer in need of his, so Dustin grabbed the shield and trident, and kicked the hands away when they fell off the items in question...

Armed now, Dustin stalked around the three tigers; the remaining gladiator came running to his side, leaving a trail of sweat, blood and urine. Dustin sighed; he SO did not want to die and be remembered as Mr. Kibbles-N-Bits. When a tiger tore away from the others that were feasting on the fallen gladiator, and leaped, Dustin reacted instinctively and hurled the trident, impaling the tiger in the neck. The crowed went absolutely ballistic; the other gladiator was equally shocked, and seemed emboldened by this display of skill/luck.

"Friend, if we work together, we may yet live!" The gladiator said.

"If we're gonna live, I'm gonna need a weapon, ANY weapon!" Dustin yelled, and the gladiator nodded.

"Distract them!" And he ran at the dead tiger to retrieve the trident. Dustin followed after him, and as the gladiator tugged at the weapon, trying to dislodge it, the two other tigers turned and oriented on them. They paced carefully, not as hungry but still ferociously angry, the noise of the crowd driving them as well as a barbed whip. Dustin stood there, and as the tigers circled them, Dustin grabbed another shield from his companion...

"Here, kitty, kitty, kitty..." Dustin whispered, the blistering sun scorching his neck and face. One of the tigers roared and charged him, and Dustin fell back as it pounced him. It was ready to bite at him when Dustin kicked it square between the legs in reflex; it yowled so loudly that Dustin was momentarily deafened. The tiger reacted by slashing Dustin's shoulder open, creating a red mist in the process. But at that moment, a sword tip plunged into the back of the tigers neck, showering Dustin with a crimson shower. The crowd cheered even louder; one tiger versus two gladiators! Dustin rolled out from under the tiger corpse and shakily stood, his left arm useless. The shield attached to it felt like dead weight, so he dropped it and the other shield also. He stood there, panting, brilliant lights dancing before his eyes. The other gladiator, armed with a sword AND trident, ran at the tiger, and after slashing at it and making it dodge, thrust with the trident and scored a hit on its flank. Dustin watched the brutal onslaught, and cried. Such brutality was pointless... why was there any fighting at all? A dark cloud blocked out the sun for a moment, casting a shadow everywhere...

"HAIL CAESAR!" The gladiator cried one he felled the tiger, and Caesar rose, raising his hands.

"Gladiator, you have won your freedom. Go now, and be free!" The crowd cheered, but then Caesar turned his baleful gaze on Dustin. "You, warrior, who tried so hard and fought for my amusement, are almost free. All you must do now is fight the strongest gladiator in the arena, and win." Dustin's tears fell faster as he began to lose his focus; his blood was flowing so swiftly... hadn't he received a gift to STOP blood flow!? He didn't know how, but he numbly picked up a shield with his left hand, and a sword with his other. Soon, a giant of a man entered the arena, kicking aside the body of a tiger as if it weighed nothing. He wore a gleaming helmet and plate mail, shimmering in the burning sunlight. Dustin slammed the hilt of his sword against his chest, mimicking the other, and felt himself rushing at the gladiator. With a simply side-step, the gladiator dodged and used his foot to send Dustin into the dirt.

"Stay there, worm, it is a good position for you." The gladiator snarled, and Dustin wearily rose, and saw his face resembled Derek...

"Hell no... gotta... gotta get back... get my pebble... stop the blood..." He whispered, and lunged, taking a swipe at the warrior, who laughed as he dodged and sent Dustin into the dirt again.

"You wish to stop bleeding?! I can help you!" The gladiator said, his eyes turning black as smoke poured from his helmet, great, thick black smoke...

"No... no..." Dustin cried, and the gladiator raised his great boot and stomped on Dustin's shin, shattering the bone. He gave a scream that he bit back, biting his lip until it bled. Soon the gladiator raised his foot again and crushed his other leg. At this Dustin let his cries go, much to the excitement of the crowd. Everyone in the crowd was turning to black, vaporous smoke...

"Yes, you worm... you worthless, miserable maggot... you'll stop bleeding once I cut you open and all your blood has tainted the field red..." The gladiator whispered, and Dustin whimpered, fear choking him, making it impossible to take in air. The gladiator turned into a black, bubbling mass of smoke, and the crowd, all turned to smoke, poured itself into the arena, a black tidal wave raising up and rushing at Dustin.

"No... NO!" Dustin cried, his own pain blinding him as well as the sunlight reflecting off the sword held high into the air, the sensation that he was losing more than blood numbing him. That black wave turned into black-handled swords, and joined the one raised high, and began to rain upon Dustin. "NOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!" Dustin cried in pure unbridled terror, as the first of hundreds of blades aimed straight for his throat, thundering at him at speeds unimaginable, the tip reaching his neck in moments...

* * *

"Isn't there anything we can DO!?" Derek cried as Dustin burned hotter with fever. His eyes were wide with fear, and try as he might, dumping cold water on Dustin as he was, they could not reduce the fever or wake him from the perpetual nightmare he was trapped in.

"I can... TRY..." VD whispered. "I can probe his mind and see if I can find the cause there..." And he entered a meditative stance, sitting on the floor cross-legged. Revanche and the others were worried beyond belief for the human named Dustin, the man that had done so much for them...

* * *

Dustin awoke on Earth, in his apartment. He was surprised; the Archangels had brought him HERE? But, no matter, he had a way to return to Rhy'Din when he was ready...

"Hey bro!" A voice called from the kitchen, a voice that was... strikingly familiar... terrifyingly familiar...

"H-Haion!?" Dustin yelped, jumping up and gripping the couch to try and steady himself. He had the headache from hell! And his throat was so sore... he ran to the kitchen and saw him; his overly baggy pants, his two-sizes-too-big shirt, his cane nestled in the corner, a cup of coffee in his hands...

"No, I'm Mister-Effing-Rogers." Haion said, and blew a raspberry. "Who else WOULD I be?" But Haion couldn't know... didn't see... Dustin was crying tears of joy, and threw himself at Haion, at his brother-friend. "WHOA! Hey, you silly asshat, I almost dropped my coffee..."

"You're alive... YOU'RE ALIVE!" Dustin cried happily; it was all a dream. A terrible dream... he never went to Hell... the devil didn't have psychotherapy sessions with a weed-loving psychologist... he didn't free two ghosts from Hades or play fetch with Cerberus. "Oh... Haion..." Dustin wept, clinging to Haion as if his very life depended on it... but at that moment, he gave a strangled cry and grabbed his head; it felt as though something inside his head wanted to smash its way out through the back of his skull...

* * *

"GAH!" VD yelled, and clutched his head, wiping a trail of blood from his nose; his blood was black and gold colored, and smelled mostly of copper and brimstone... "It's... no use... any magical means to get in cause HIM harm... and whoever is trying to get in!" Derek snarled, his eyes wide with worry and anger.

"THEN LET ME POSSESS HIM! I CAN WAKE HIM UP EASY!" Derek yelled.

"It's not that easy!" VD snapped. "Try it and you might KILL him! No magic will work on him right now! He's shielded too well!"

* * *

"Hey, Dusty, you ok? You're acting like you saw a ghost... well, a ghost you DIDN'T expect, anyway." Haion said, patting his brother-friend on the back. "Come on, let's get to class, Prof's waiting for your oral presentation." Dustin nodded, and grabbed his backpack...

After class, he and Haion were sitting on the docks, just watching/listening to the waves. Dustin couldn't help himself, but he was still slightly weepy, and just sighed happily.

"Bro, it's so good to see you." Dustin whispered. Haion gave a wry grin.

"Glad one of us is glad to see something." And Dustin laughed, fully and heartily. But soon black clouds began to roll in from the south, and the wind picked up. "Hmm... storm's coming."

"Let's get going then... don't want to get caught in it..." Dustin said, getting up from the dock... and saw Haion standing at the end of the pier, looking in his general direction, near-useless eyes boring into him with a ferocity Dustin barely ever saw. "Haion?"

"Yeah, brother?" Haion asked with a sneer. Dustin flinched, but Haion kept going. "What is it, brother? What do you need, brother?" Haion kept snarling, and Dustin stared with fear and confusion as the wind blew harder. "Didn't bother to look for me, I noticed." Dustin's hackles raised.

"I DID! I DID!" He screamed over the wind. It blew so hard that the waves in the water were getting more vicious. "I THREW MYSELF INTO THE OCEAN TO FIND YOU!"

"Liar." Haion said, and raised a gun and pointed it at Dustin. "If you had, you'd have known it wasn't a killing shot; I missed my vitals. I floated for days, hoping beyond hope you'd rescue me... you always swore to look after me... always swore to BE THERE FOR ME! WHERE WERE YOU, BROTHER?!" The gun was held firm despite the howling wind, and Dustin sobbed harder, begging for forgiveness.

"I TRIED! I FELT IT HAPPEN! I ALMOST DIED IN CLASS!" Dustin cried.

"LIAR! LIAR! YOU BETRAYER!" Haion snarled, hissing at Dustin. "YOU LEFT ME FOR DEAD AND PITIED YOURSELF! YOU NEVER CARED ABOUT ME!"

"That's not true... THAT'S NOT TRUE!" Dustin screamed, somehow standing despite the harsh wind and the waves drenching him with salt water. "I tried... I... I..." Dustin couldn't form the words... his heart felt as though it had stopped. His hope, his faith, everything was shaking, close to the breaking point...

"Liar..." Haion hissed, and took aim, his finger coming to rest on the trigger...

* * *

His face was drenched in water and sweat; the bed sheets soaked with water and more sweat. A pile of damp rags sat near, soaking the floor with water as Derek and VD wrestled to keep Dustin still; he was thrashing so hard, he was in danger of biting off his own tongue.

"WHAT DO WE DO!?" Derek hollered.

"Renne. He's his only hope! If magic will not reach him, then science MUST! PRAY, DEMON! PRAY THAT RENNE FINDS HIS WAY BACK HERE AND CARES ENOUGH TO SAVE HIM!" VD screamed at Derek, as he managed to pin Dustin to the bed. Derek fell back and watched with horror as his first friend... ever... was trapped within his own mind... trapped in a world that likely wanted him GONE. Derek, for the first time ever, knew sorrow in its rawest form. Suddenly, Dustin jerked, and he laid still. His breathing was shallow, and his pulse was weak... but he wasn't moving. "Oh! He's... he's still... alive..." VD whispered. He was alive, but...

"Dusty? Dustin? DUSTIN!?" Derek cried, running to his side and shaking him. He breathed- barely -and he had a pulse- barely -but he did not respond... "D-U-S-T-I-N!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" Derek screamed at the top of his lungs... and as he did, a star in the night sky began to flicker, the light growing dimmer by the moment...

Not enough answers.

Supreme gods, bless us so that calamities do not befall us. May there be peace and happiness, and long life, and may our descendants prosper and become notable, not through fortune or fame, but through love and deed. May our rice fields flourish and our silkworm cultures thrive, may our work be blessed in your eyes. May evil spirits be banished, and ghostly auras destroyed. Divine talismans hold something unfathomable, they settle eternally in the courtyard. Their tally, miraculous. Numerous in the past, blessing impossible to put into words. May the gods protect us all our days. May Heaven, Earth, and Water guard all living things. May all constellations sustain and protect me. May all the seasons of the year, all hours of our days be free of disaster, innocent of harm. May the stars of good come, and the stars of evil disperse...
-Onmyou Mystic's Prayer (In English)


VD sat near Dustin and muttered to himself. Derek and Matthew had been gone a long time, in his opinion... but he also had a different view of time than most people. Time, to him, was never constant. How could it be, at his age? But then again, he ALSO knew how slowly time could creep on and keep people waiting... so was this a matter of time moving slowly, or swiftly? He was certain it was moving swiftly.

"Copper for your thoughts." A voice asked, and he looked around to see Harrison hovering near-by. VD sighed, and answered him.

"His only hope is Renne. Derek and Matthew have been gone a long time. Is time moving swiftly or is it moving slowly?" VD said curtly. Harrison nodded his ethereal head slowly. "Where in Rhy'Din could Renne be...? And does he care enough to return? Does he even know he's needed?" VD went on. "There's no way to tell; any means at magical divination would only result in either failure, or failure." VD said with a slight sneer... "Did someone take him? Did he abandon us? Too many questions. Not enough answers." VD sighed, and leaned back in his chair. His wings were folded close to his body, and had been since entering the tavern... and Harrison watched as those wings slowly, but surely, shrank, receding into VD's back until all that remained was his heavily scarred back... and a strange symbol. A 'bright' sun with wavy rays, eclipsed by a crescent moon. Harrison stared at it curiously... and VD saw him doing it. "Go ahead; ask." Harrison didn't dare insult VD by feigning stupidity.

"What is it, and how did you get it?" Harrison asked bluntly. VD gave a wry chuckle that didn't reach his eyes; that MAY have been due to the fact his eyes had grown three shades darker... and about ten degrees angrier.

"It's a 'gift' from my father... he branded me with that crest when I was three months old to symbolize the unison of the light and dark I represented." VD answered, and Harrison winced. "My father died when I was five... as did my mother." VD whispered... but there was more to the story, Harrison could tell, but he didn't press it. In a few moments, VD went on. "My mother bore both me... and my father's rage and rape. She perished in an inferno, giving up her immortality to give me life. A mortal woman with wings... though she was born an angel. My father was a greater demon lord... he, ah, got ahead of himself one night with my help." VD said with a heavy dose of dark humor, and Harrison shivered.

"Well... ah... what about those scars...?" Harrison asked.

"Ah. Well, when you live as dangerously and as long as I do, you gain a few trophies. Not all of them look good on your wall." VD said with actual humor, though Harrison wasn't laughing...

"So... do you have any ideas?" Harrison asked.

"Actually... yes." VD said suddenly, as if looking at Harrison for the first time. "You're a ghost... ghosts do not tire out, breath oxygen, or have the limitations of the living. You can travel through solid matter, fly through the air, and swim though water without worry. You can go where I cannot." VD said, his golden eyes brighter than ever. "If Renne is held captive, journeying, or just plain stuck, you can find him and guide him back to us." Harrison thought it was a good idea... until two seconds passed. Then the reality of the situation hit him.

"Renne cannot see me. He likely cannot hear me. He likely would not want to. I'm human." Harrison said, and VD laughed.

"Yes, and no. You're human... but you're a GHOST. And Ghosts can do something else most others cannot..." VD said.

"And that is...?" Harrison asked, though he was certain he wasn't going to like this.

"You can possess people." VD said. Harrison's ethereal eyes widened, and he shook his vaporous head.

"No, I won't take people by force." Harrison said forcibly, causing Revanche, whom was nestled on the windowsill, to startle.

"Then that leaves us with one option." VD said gently, with a true smile on his youthful face. Harrison perceived his warily, but did not hesitate to ask,

"And that might be... what?" Harrison asked, and VD simply grinned, revealing incisors pointier than your average person...

* * *

The pile of brick, mortar, wood, stone, leather and metal looked unassuming. Anyone might've seen such a pile behind any junk shop... There was even some chunks of glass and sand piles near it, but what made it unique was the ten human bones, one of them a skull, adorning it all. Harrison looked dubiously at it, but VD was positively beaming. They were standing in front of a smithy who was also dubiously looking at the pile.

"An' yeh wan'meh ta do... wha?" The smithy asked.

"Craft it into a humanoid body." VD said, and he grinned at the smithy. This particular smithy was neither human or even Dwarf... but Goblin. Harrison had his doubts but thankfully, the goblin couldn't hear him. Or simply ignored him.

"Eh, noh'a loh'a 'terials, 'ere. Migh' beh sketchy. Wha's'innit fer meh?" The goblin smithy asked, rubbing his grizzled chin. VD pulled from the mysterious pouch (that seemed to be MUCH bigger on the inside) at his side a large bracelet encrusted with rubies and sapphires. "Oy by the Spirits! Tha'... tha'...!"

"Yes, is real gold, real rubies, and real sapphires, and really shiny. And it's yours... IF you make what I ask." VD said gently, letting the bracelet pendulum on his finger in front of the goblins eyes. And the beady black eyes of said-goblin followed its every movement.

"Aye, aye it can be done..." The goblin said gently, which made his words more understandable. "Buh'all nee' more stuff. There's noh'e'nuff 'ere fer a boh'ee yer size."

"Oh, I only want it human size... no bigger than six feet, at the most." VD said. The goblin prospected the pile of odds and ends.

"Skull fer tha'ead, bone apiece fer arm'n'legs, aye aye, met'l fer bindin's, glass fer'eyes, san'fer filler, wood'n'leather'n'rock fer tha'boh'ee. Soun'good?" The Goblin asked, and VD nodded.

"How long?" VD asked.

"Ten days." The Goblin said firmly, and VD frowned, taking the bracelet away and stuffing it in his pouch. "WAI'WAI! FIVE DAYS!" The Goblin cried, and VD turned on him.

"There's a Dwarf Smithy I know that can do it in two. I came to you because you've done good work for me in the past. But if you can't do it, I understand; he might even take silver over gold..." VD said coyly. At this, the Goblins spine stiffened, and his eyes narrowed viciously as he snarled.

"*You listen here.*" The Goblin spoke in Gobbledygook, the native Goblin language in the area. "*The amount of material you brought me is sufficient for a body, but if you're going to rely on a Stunty, he'll ask for a few of YOUR body parts! A Stunty working for silver! I'd eat my own mother before I believed that, if I hadn't eaten her already for losing a bet! You want this done in two days, FINE! But I'm warning you, I'm charging you TRIPLE for this rush order! I'll put off the other orders I have, and YOU can negotiate with them!*" Harrison didn't understand a word, but apparently VD did, because he simply smiled.

"Just tell me who you're taking orders for, and I'll see they understand." VD said gently. The Goblin rattled off names of Goblin Chiefs and a few Vampire Hunters special ordering silver weaponry and jewelry, and VD simply laughed. "Very well, I'll alert them their orders will be two days late. And here, an advance on my payment." VD said, and tossed the Goblin the bracelet. Afterward, he and Harrison took off to 'negotiate' with the Goblin Chiefs...

* * *

"Where... did you learn to negotiate like that?" Harrison asked VD, shaken to the core. VD was sitting on the 'late' Goblin Chiefs throne, sipping his favorite mead from a drinking horn.

"My father." VD said simply. "He always said, 'If someone tries to kill you, no amount of negotiating will prevent them from trying again.'" VD recited. "Hate him though I did, he had some good advice sometimes." Harrison gulped nervously, thoroughly reminded that VD, though part angel... WAS the son of a greater demon lord, too...

* * *

News had spread through the Goblin network about VD's arrival, and thereafter every colony greeted him with their highest honor and immediately agreed his order could come first. Grateful for their compliance, he compensated their loss with a few 'pretties' and the promise of a favor or two, and happily cracked a joke with the other Goblin Chiefs, who understood/ruled by violence, about the former Goblin Chief getting 'ahead of himself' and not listening to the alternative...

* * *

The Vampire Slayers were more understanding than the Goblins, and after hearing the reason for the rush job, agreed their own orders could be delayed two days. They even agreed to keep their ears and eyes open about any information regarding a small, blue, child-like entity that responded to 'Renne', and if they DID find anything, to tell him to hurry to Copper Forge...

* * *

Back at the Inn, VD and Harrison waited patiently. They had done more than Harrison thought possible... spread the message throughout several of the non-human networks about the search for Renne. They even convinced several ghosts to keep an ethereal eye out for him, and if there were ANY rumors, the ghosts would follow up on it; after-all, what ELSE were they going to do with their time...?

He's so Retro-active!

"As a person sits idly,
And as time wanders by,
So does the mind wander
From the task at hand." -The Mun


~Approximately one week ago~


John Rashe walked through the portal into his beach-front hotel room and gave a stretch; what a day! It had been nearly a week, if not more, since he'd sent Dustin on his way... and wondered how he was doing. Things were finally going well for John; his newest 'client' was making excellent progress, he had enough brownie batter to indulge in inviting Mary Jane over, and figured, hell, why not make a batch for Dustin???

Hours after he'd set the batter to cool on the counter, he activated the charm around his neck and opened a portal in the wall; stepping through it, he waved to some of the demons he saw, grinning at their confusion, and stepped into Satan's Throne Room.

"Satan! How are you?" John asked, and Satan shushed him for a moment, watching as Cerberus fought with a giant serpent. A few moments later, Satan turned his attention to Dr. Rashe.

"DOCTOR, IT'S GOOD TO SEE YOU, BUT WHAT'S THE OCCASION? DIDN'T WE FINISH MY SESSION TODAY?" Satan asked.

"We did, but I have a favor to ask; let me go to Rhy'Din for a while, I want to check on Dustin. Don't suppose YOU know, do you?" John asked.

"BELIEVE IT OR NOT, NO; HE HASN'T USED HIS MEDALLION SINCE WE SENT HIM OVER, AND THERE'S AN INDICATION HE'S NOT EVEN WEARING IT." Satan said gently. Rashe raised an eyebrow, and without a spoken word, Satan opened the portal and Rashe rushed through...

When he arrived, he could scarcely believe what he saw. Dusty was comatose... he was drenched in sweat and he looked unwashed, and he was unshaven. It was obvious SOMEONE was trying to look after him, as it was obvious the sheets were being changed and Dustin had a cool rag on his forehead... Rashe knelt at the bedside and examined him quickly, and realized he was deteriorating. He lifted Dustin in his arms- GODS, how thin he was!!! -and opened the portal back up.

"Satan! Portal, hospital, now!" Rashe cried, and Satan didn't hesitate; the portal was opened in the blink of an eye, and Rashe run through. When he stepped into a near-vacant hallway, he turned to the first nurse he saw. "Nurse! This man is dying! I found him outside!" The nurse snapped to attention, and summoned several other nurses with a single shout...

Moments later, Dustin was hooked up to a life monitor, he had an IV going, and doctors were already scheduling a CT and an MRI; Rashe was questioned, he gave them semi-true answers, and commented that the man in question had, when awake, seemed confused, disoriented and forgetful, and that in his professional opinion, Rashe suggested it might be some sort of blood clot in the brain. The doctor thanked him, and suggested he leave so they might work. Taking the hint, Rashe DID leave, and after using a portal, appeared in his hotel room. He flopped down on his couch and sighed; what a day.

He was looking at the birth of the universe... it was beautiful. Everything was so quiet at first; non-existence was about to be shattered and reality was going to be born and he... the Doctor... was the only one left that knew how it all began. He'd battled Dalek's, seen the Ood, and he'd been friends with the Face of Bo. Plagues, wars, plays, he'd seen them all, and then some. What he had yet to see was peace. He wanted to see it, and if he could help it flourish, that would be spectacular. He thought of Rose... trapped with the single-heart version of himself. He thought of Donna Noble. He even thought of Dalek Kahn, the Master, the Weeping Angels...

Of all things, he thought of Johnathan Rashe.

He'd met an infinite number of humans and any other race imaginable, and it was always the humans that surprised him most. Capable of such rage, greed, and destruction... yet also capable of creation and love. Staring into the abyss of non-existence and pondering his own situation, he thought of the times he'd landed in the right place, literally, at the right time. And upon arriving, there was a situation needing his attention; the attention of the Doctor. And always... always... there was someone that ended up getting hurt... or dying... his eyes narrowed. The implosion of the infinite gases and energies trapped within the vortex of gravity he knew mankind would someday name a Black Hole, there was a matter of seconds, if that, before the explosion would travel both out and in at once, creating both reality, and cognizant thought. He couldn't remember EVERY name of EVERY person he ever met... but the really extraordinary ones stayed with him. His hearts pounded a beat against his chest as he watched the first few sparkles of energy begin to burst free; older than time and space itself, was non-existence, yet younger than even it could have ever guessed, if it could have guessed.

He'd been to the end of the universe. He'd been to the beginning of it. Yet he always came back to Earth. Earth needed him most. And truth be told... HE needed the Earth, too. If he was ever honest with anyone, it was himself; if he ever gave a straight answer, to anyone, it was because there was no nice way of saying things. He shut the doors to the TARDIS and stood at the console, watching it make calculations, staring at the Chameleon Camouflage circuits that were burnt out... staring at the blinking light dead-center telling him he had an incoming hail. Cocking his head to the side, he activated the controls and saw he was being hailed by a human on Earth in the year 2008 in North America.

2008. Oh, he'd chuckled, watching the presidential elections in America. There was a blessing and a curse to knowing what was going to happen beforehand, but the blinking light... he'd told John to only summon him in an emergency. If someone needed to see the Doctor, now was the time. He locked in coordinates, banged the hammer, twirled the wheel, lifted the levers, simultaneously held down the far left button with his left hand, the middle lock-release with his right, and punching the Travel button with his right foot. And sure enough, he was there, parked inconspicuously in an alley near the beach, and he walked out and saw John Rashe holding the reprogrammed Sonic Pen aloft like a beacon. He approached with his usual gait, and when John saw him, he smiled. The Doctor grinned a little, as he usually did when he knew he was about to receive distressing news.

"You called?" The Doctor asked.

He had listened to John Rashe with a blank, dispassionate face. However, in his mind he was running about recording everything, trying to determine every possible course of action. John truly had an emergency on his hands and the Doctor had been called in. But was this something he could fix?

Only one way to find out! His reputation as the Doctor was on the line, and was NOT going to let someone die by being idle.

"Tell me where Dustin is at the moment and I'll see what I can do for him, then with any luck, I'll find someone that knows the Chronospatial coordinates for this... Rhydin you're telling me about." The Doctor spoke quickly; time was of the essence, even for a Time Lord... ESPECIALLY for a Time Lord. He had to pinpoint the proper times he could arrive in to see Dustin; he had to determine who, on what planet, in what time, knew of Rhydin, and how and when to get there. Taking into consideration the danger of disrupting the Time Stream, he HAD to discover if this was a Fixed Point. He certainly hoped it wasn't. Receiving the address for the hospital from the mind-doctor, The Doctor practically flew to the TARDIS and threw himself at the control panel, slamming it to life and flinging himself the relatively short distance between points, landing carefully behind the hospital. He strolled out, leaving his coat in the TARDIS, and walked boldly into the hospital.

"Hold on there, you!" A guard said, and the Doctor gave him his most disarming smile ever.

"Hey there chap, Health Inspector." He said, flashing the Psychic Paper at the guard. "Came to inspect a couple of rooms, especially the ones concerning brain-tumor patients. Got any recent tenants?" The Doctor said with a strange grin at his own wording. The guard, thoroughly disarmed as the Doctor knew he would be, simply pointed at the nurses station. "Thanks!" The Doctor said and walked calmly to the desk, flashing the Psychic Paper again. "Health Inspector; here to see the room of a patient by the name of.. Dustin?" The Doctor made a show of checking the Psychic Paper as if he needed to confirm the name, but while he did he cast a covert glance about; something was unusual about this hospital. There was a tremendous surge of Time energy here...

"Yes, that would be Room 042." The nurse said casually. The Doctor grinned again and walked towards the room. Reaching the room proved easier than anticipated; the Time energy he sensed was coming from Room 042. Pushing the door open, his smile faded as if it'd never been. Laying in the bed was Dustin, but he could hardly be called human anymore, he was that emaciated. The tubes and wires hooked up to him were haphazard, as if he was not expected to live and thus, did not require the five-star treatment. This caused a brief flare of anger in the Doctor; dying or not, respect was a staple of hospitals! He locked the door with his Sonic Screwdriver and approached the machines, using his Screwdriver to strengthen their ability to monitor his vital signs.

"Hmm. Decelerated heart rate, minimal breathing, but stable, even optimal for the level they're at... he's in a healing trance!" The Doctor said, impressed. "A human that can trance... what IS he? What ARE you?" He asked the unconscious human, knowing he wouldn't get an answer. His brainwave pattern was the most abnormal of his vital signs... and also the most frightening. A double pattern. Rashe was right; his brain is literally functioning as if it were two instead of one. The Doctor had never heard of such a thing among humans, and did a customary scan to ensure that Dustin was, in fact, human. He WAS human... completely human. Not a single trance of alien DNA in him. His DNA wasn't tampered with in any way, not by biologists or geneticists from this or any planet. Yet what the Doctor saw was impossible. A double-pattern... "What are you?" He whispered curiously to the human, lifting an eyelid open to check his eyes; they functioned well enough. He was pale from blood-loss and deterioration thanks to no food and only minimal intravenous fluid drips. The Doctor nearly snarled; he was now beyond determined to discover the answer to all these riddles. Most importantly...

The Time energy flowing in and around his body. For some reason, Dustin was acting as a conduit for time energy... the Doctor did some tests of his own, and discovered that more than just channeling the energy, his body was directing it. To a place BETWEEN worlds, to the space between atoms. To another world. A world the Doctor was 96.34% certain was called Rhydin. The Doctor had just found the proverbial lighthouse to guide his ship in, and he was going to use it. Fiddling with the machinery one more time, he upgraded their operating systems to the maximum capacity that their relatively fragile framework could handle.

"You hold on, Dustin. I'll bring this Renne person here... and we'll all get some answers. Hopefully... they're answers we'll like." He said confidently to the unconscious human, and he left the room, running full sprint for the TARDIS. Once outside the hospital, he threw himself into the TARDIS with a precision he only used in an emergency, and began working at the control panel. The best way to follow the Time Energy Tunnel was to begin the Time Travel process, so that's what he did. With a lurch, he began traveling, and locked onto that time stream; it sucked him along, dragging him, guiding him to a world most humans only dreamed about, a world of magic, demons, and gods; Rhydin. And now the Doctor was there, on a beach, the salty sting of the ocean seeping through the doors as he opened them, and saw, to his surprise, someone...

...or something...

...laying on the beach. And he stood there, coat on, shoes slightly sinking in the sand, watching, waiting, he, the Lonely God that walks through doors.

Everyone deserves a little Christmas cheer...

"And what happened that day, well, in Who-ville they say, that the Grinch's small heart, grew three sizes that day." -How the Grinch Stole Christmas


Dustin was where the Doctor had left him, his situation unchanged, his condition no better. He was still comatose/in a trance, unaware of the state of things around him...

The hospital was decked out in Christmas paraphernalia, with garland and little trees everywhere, fake snow made out of cotton balls, and paper snowflakes made by the hospitalized children. Christmas muzak was piped into all the rooms... every room had a wreath, stockings, a tree and Christmas cards... except one.

Room 042.

Dustin's room was barren of anything even remotely Christmas-y... no music, no garland, no paper snow flakes, and no windows. Even if he'd been awake, or even aware, he'd not even be allowed to see the snow outside. Considering his condition, most of the doctors felt it didn't matter; he couldn't appreciate it anyway, so why go through the motions? But... that night, Dustin had several visitors. Little visitors, watching him with unusual interest and quiet curiosity.

"Is he asleep?" A child asked gently. His companions murmured gently, as if worried of waking the sleeping giant. "Nobody made his room pretty..." The child said gently, and he and his companions went about decking the halls, so to speak. They brought in paper snowflakes, made by all the children gathered... they strung up paper chains made of green and red construction paper... they even put a red Santa hat on his head. Because to a child, nobody should have to spend Christmas alone, even if they ARE alone... and they were determined to make sure this sleeping person HAD a Christmas... when they were done, his room was thoroughly bedecked in Christmas goodies, complete with a plug-in tree and a generic red stocking taped to the wall. All the kids made the unknown giant a Christmas card, and set them up all over the room, telling him they would ask Santa for him to get better...

"Do you think he likes Christmas music?" One of the little girls asked. The other kids nodded silently; who didn't like Christmas music? So they gathered around his bed, the tall and the small, the injured, the blind, the wheelchair-bound, those without families and those with, the terminal, the sick and the healthy... and they began to sing to the gentle, peaceful, sleeping giant...

"Silent night... holy night...
All is calm... all is bright.
Round yon Virgin Mother and Child...
Holy Infant so tender and mild...
Sleep in heavenly peace...
Sleep in heavenly peace.

Silent night... holy night!
Shepherds quake at the sight
Glories stream from heaven afar
Heavenly hosts sing Alleluia!
Christ, the Saviour is born...
Christ, the Saviour is born!

Silent night, holy night...
Son of God, love's pure light...
Radiant beams from Thy holy face
With the dawn of redeeming grace
Jesus, Lord, at Thy birth
Jesus, Lord, at Thy birth..."

Their voices sang as one and reached every room on the floor. The tenants listened to the singing, many of them shedding tears at the sincerity of the song. The children sang the song once more, because it was their favorite one. The second time, however, they were not alone in singing. Everyone that heard them began to sing in their rooms, from their desks, from their beds and chairs, wherever they were. And though they knew not for whom they sang... they knew that someone... somewhere in this hospital... was being watched after, with all the tender mercy and innocence of a child, showing that just because you may not be aware of it, and just because you are not well liked or well known...

Everyone deserves a little Christmas cheer.


(Merry Christmas, everyone.)