Can I Really Help Anyone? (Sakume, Alti)

Where am I? Am I alive? Was I ever really dead? Where am I?

These thoughts raced through his head as the man sat up upon a stone slab that sat idly beneath him. He raised his hand towards the sun shining down upon him through the snow white clouds above. A quick scanning of the area revealed the man was within some kind of a ruined temple. The roof, itself, had probably erode away a long time ago. Still, that didn't answer his question.

Where am I? It was almost like a lightning bolt striking him and electricity running through his veins as he clenched his head in pain. Suddenly, memories... lots of memories began to flood back into his mind. Scattered and divided, the man couldn't make sense of the images at first, but slowly, his mind put them into a sensible order. Time stopped for a moment. The pain subsided and the man looked up.

The man's hair flowed in the wind as he looked at a strand. The green hair.... the sun... and this temple. They all felt so familiar. "Who am I?" his voice echoed out as he removed a strand of hair. "Perhaps you know," the green haired man said as the hair strand seemed to unravel and fly around.

"And why am I here?" he asked again, waiting for some answer. None came, but still, his mind wandered through the images it had been reassembling. So much... the only thing that really seemed to make sense were the things in the beginning... and the things towards the end. He had been born, grown up... and died. But how had he died... and why had he come back? None of these made sense to him yet.

Still, a single face stuck out in all of the memories. In the jumble of things that had happened, a blonde haired woman seemed to reach out to him severely. "I need to find this woman," the man said to himself as his body began to break apart into a light green colored wind and follow the wind paths. "I have to... since she may be able to help me."

What... was there left for her now? She placed a hand on her very swollen stomach. A baby... with no father. How could she raise a child by herself? How? What should she do? She couldn't go to a clinic, she was far too embarrassed and hurt already by Zorlo's death. She forced another bite of the peanut butter and jelly sandwich down her throat. He didn't even say he loved me... She swallowed.

Didn't tell me anything... didn't trust me... I was so stupid... She looked down at her tummy with blurred eyesight. And now look! I'm going to have a baby and he's not even here! What do I tell the baby? Can I even have it by myself? I'm so scared... The tears welled as she thought. Should I talk to Cadenza?... what should I do? The baby is due so soon and I just don't know what I should do...I'm so lost and alone... She dumped the rest of the food into the trash and slowly cleaned the dishes, putting them away as well. First Zorlo dies... now... her only dear friend...her comfort, Kichaa had died. Now what?... who was next to leave her? Would the baby die? Cadenza, she needed Cadenza. Maybe she could call her? No, she couldn't possibly, not now, not when the poor woman had no warning. Selene bit her lip, staring at the phone. But she had to talk to someone... anyone... she curled up on the couch and drew a blanket over herself, crying herself to sleep.

The man's form seemed to step from the wind, slowly becoming solid as he stepped towards a grave. The world felt more and more empty, and yet now things seemed richer with life. There was, however, one exception. A grave sat idly before the man as he knelt down and read the small tombstone. "Hickie," he read as he placed his hand on it. Memories rushed back as the image of a purple fish flooded back.

And she was there. The blonde haired woman had... protected this fish. This creature. This "Hickie." A tear dripped down the green haired man's eye and landed on the grave as he felt a surge of emotion. Sadness overtook him for a moment as he placed his left hand on the grave. "No... it isn't yet your time," he commented as powerful surges of green energy spurred from his hand and into the ground.

Vibrant, lush wildlife flooded around the grave as the ground seemed to be pushed open and a fanged skull bit down hard on the green man's arm. He winced a little bit as the fish bit down, but smiled at the creature as flesh slowly returned to them. Before long, the green haired man rose with the fish hanging from his arm. The fish was fully alive again and clinging to his hand.

"Hello, Hickie," the green haired man said as he smiled. "I'm happy to see you again," the man said as a strange smile overtook his face as he placed the fish down and it let go. "Can you take me to her?" the green haired man asked the fish. Hickie smiled as he rushed off towards a nearby cabin as the green haired man followed. "I think I am starting to remember now," he said with a smile. Her name was... "Selene."

Squeakity-squeak. The small hole in the cabin door opened as the fish flopped inside the cabin. Hickey usually didn't stay inside, he preferred the lake nearby, but he still loved to be with Selene and Zorlo, especially Zorlo. Once the man had died, Hickie, being a unique species of the Hickleback variety, a fish that fed off a specific person's blood, had lost his food source, and therefore perished. True, it was a rather gruesome eating ritual for anything, especially a fish, but when Selene first saw the fish during the cruise both she and Zorlo had taken, she knew she had to help the poor caged thing, and that was when Hickie became a member of their family.

The fish awkwardly "walked" (if it could be called walking, more like waddling) up to the sleeping, red-eyed figure of Selene and flopped up to the couch to see her better. One could almost relate the fish to a dog, albeit a very moist, strange dog. He nudged Selene.

The angel stirred in her sleep, but didn't awaken, her eyes closed in heavy sleep. Her wings ruffled under the blanket, a few red feathers sticking out from under the cloth. She murmured in her dreaming, unintelligible.

It was strange. This place... he almost felt as though he had been there before. A small, quaint cabin in the woods. It was almost something out of a fairy tale, except maybe a bit more unusual. The flower garden outside of the house was blossoming, and the man guessed that either spring was coming, or something else was triggering it.

Still, he wasn't sure what to except. Should I follow the fish? he wondered as he took a step towards the cabin, Or should I go somewhere else? The thought resonated in his mind for a while as he continued to move, subconsciously, towards the door. Before he knew what was going on, the man rested his hand on the handle of the door and opened the door.

There was truly no longer a chance to turn back. The door opened slightly as the man slid himself into the building. The man closed the door nearly silently as he began to look around.

It didn't strike him at first, but it seemed to call out to him as his eyes were drawn to it. The man extended his hand, looking a picture sitting on the fireplace. The picture was one of a green haired man and a blonde woman. This man... and his green hair... he looked kinda familiar, but the man still wasn't sure who this guy was.

The woman, however, he knew. He rested a finger on the woman's picture as a tear dripped onto the picture. This tear again.... what did it mean? The man was confused for a second but quickly looked at the door the fish had gone into.

The man took a step towards the door. Was "Selene" in this room? He wouldn't know until he entered. THe man extended his hand towards the door and stepped into the room almost silently. He hoped, beyond hope, that he wasn't disturbing her.

She slept even as he entered, one glove off, one on, ruffled and mussed by sleep and depression. She didn't dream, she had no reason to dream. Her hand drifted to lay half-off the couch, limp. She murmured and drew the blanket closer around her body. She had no way of knowing that her previous husband had returned and was in fact staring at her in this very moment.

So many others had known, in fact, been completely able to talk and muse with Zorlo or at least be aware of his presence, but Selene had not been one of them. She had convinced herself in these many months passed Zorlo was dead. She had redecorated, removing much of the green, even the painting she had done of them before he had died was collecting dust now above the mantle, only because she was a little too short to reach it and too depressed to bother. Yes, Zorlo was dead and he was not going to come back. Their room had changed from green-themed to plain white and creme, the man's possessions packed into boxes and moved up to the attic. She shuddered. Zorlo...

It was an odd feeling, he noted. She was still asleep. The fish had even nudged her a few times, but nothing had happened. So what, then, was he to do? He knew her name... but he still didn't know who he, himself, was. Did she know him? What he could remember told him that she did, but how could he be certain?

Memories flickered in his mind wildly as he attempted to make sense of the images he was seeing. He grasped his forehead and winced in pain as he waited for the images to calm down. Only a moment passed, but quickly he could see where he was again. Still... this room seemed... different than he could remember it.

Confusion swept over him as he approached the woman and extended his hand. He rested his hand against her cheek and rubbed her cheek gently. He didn't really wish to wake her... but she knew. He could feel it.

She was dreaming about Zorlo. He was alive? Or dead? She really didn't know, but she knew he was close. She could feel it. And she knew the contrast between having someone so close and having no one. She rolled over, sighed in her sleep.

"Yes, Cadenza?... I'm... I'm having problems. Can you come over for a talk over lunch?" It had been this day, not so long ago, Selene confessed about how unhappy she had been. Zorlo not trusting her, not trying to build a relationship with her, in fact, the two of them hardly anything more than forcibly married. At least, in her view. That's why she had become so friendly with Kichaa. He listened. He stayed. And he trusted her. She told Cadenza all about writing him and not getting a reply, about her secret deeds she would have never told anyone else. "I loved Zorlo, honestly, I did... he was... so different when he first met me, before he got so powerful, suddenly became so far away. I could hardly get him to talk to me without explaining some concept to me I didn't understand... I never felt equal to him. But I stayed." She paused. "I stayed because I thought things might change. He might revert if I just stayed faithful. I didn't want to sin... But things didn't change. And the trip to heaven, when he had died, addressing everyone with such flippant relaxation, no sadness at all, no regret for leaving her and no sign, not even the smallest sign of love for her made everything change.

"Oh Cadenza... and now Kichaa... I was... so happy, I was ready to tell Zorlo... that things will have to change. After Zorlo died, she was ready to move on. It took time, a lot of time, but she needed that crutch. She needed someone to be with, especially at this time of such monumental loss. But he was gone. Kichaa had not answered her letter, which she knew meant only the worst. Perhaps he was gone. Perhaps he had died. She would never know, for she had no way of contacting him besides his address at the Dome. It didn't matter now. Zorlo... somehow she felt haunted.

She opened her eyes.

She screamed.

She screamed and, almost instinctually, he stepped backwards from her. It was odd, for that moment, as he stared at her. His face became flush as he looked from her to Hickie, and then back. "E-excuse me," he almost whispered, finding it hard to put words forward, "Mrs. Selene, I've come here... in search of an answer to a question," he said modestly, his feet shuffling nervously.

Nervousness... it felt both foreign and yet welcomed in her presence. He couldn't tell if this emotion that had swept over him was so strong that he should shrink back and step away, or if he should step forwards and more directly speak with her. The man raised his eyes to look at her again as the redness in his face lingered.

Finally, he uttered the question, "Do you know who I am?"

"Do you know who I am?"

She blinked a few times, then scoffed. This is ridiculous. I've finally cracked. I'm having a mental breakdown. Zorlo came back and now he has some form of amnesia? Good God, I'm finally aware that my whole life must revolve around him! Because here he is! Right in front of me! She poked him in the shoulder. He even felt real. She narrowed her eyes, curled up tighter and turned away, trying not to cry again. It felt easier to do that these days. Then came her cold answer. "No." Maybe I thought I knew once... but I don't anymore... "I don't want to see you. Go away. Go back to wherever it is you came from! Don't you see how much I've tried to forget?" How do I get rid of it? This memory... so real... She picked up the phone next to the couch and started to dial Cadenza.

Yes, Cadenza, this is Selene. I'm seeing my dead husband and I need help. Yes, a lot of help. Please. Please for my sake... She put the phone down back in its cradle and moaned, wiping away a tear.

He stared at her. He quirked an eye as he turned away from the woman and walked towards the door. Two tears streaked down his face as he looked towards the way out of the room. "I am sorry that I have bothered you then. I only wished to know... who I am."

o=)------------ Somewhere else in existence -------------(=o

Spikes of spiritual pressure ripped through the dimension fabric that surrounded the man. The thick strands of spiritual energy shook at some great awakening. It had only been a faint buzzing at first, but it was become something more like an earthquake. Power so surreal that Monroe could hardly believe it was real.

He'd felt this power once before. The power that shakes existence to the core. Yes, Monroe recalled this feeling all too well. It was the same feeling he had just before Zorlo died. This time, however, things were minutely different. This time, the power wasn't dying down.

The Quincy rose from his seat and reached his hand for the phone. He had two people he needed to get in contact with. One which he decidedly was against contacting, and the other who had been the only believer. However... the only person that believed also had the weirdest inclination that telephone messages were transferred by fairy folk, so getting ahold of that person directly would be annoying.

"Its never easy," the dark clad man groaned as he called both Zachary and Cadenza. He needed to tell someone... anyone. After all, he needed to make sure that he wasn't just losing his mind. "Heh... as if that could happen," he muttered as he listened to the phone ring.

The phone had rung at least half a dozen times that day, and each of those times where there hadn't been a telemarketer on the other end, there had been silence (the last to call, a poor, poor vacuum salesman, did not escape a verbal thrashing on this very topic. He'd finally hung up the phone after ten harrowing minutes, crying more than he had in twenty-six years of life, and having heard more swear words than in all of public high school and college combined.) Cadenza had long since reached the limits of her patience with the calls. No one played pranks on her like this and got away with it for very long...

So when the phone rang again that afternoon, partway through a rerun of The Departed and her alone-time at lunch when Kate was away with Louis, she spent some time debating whether to answer it or just chuck the damn Motorolla Razr into the fireplace. Curiosity just baaarely edged out a victory.

The woman sighed a bit, then flipped open and, hands a bit tense as to almost be fists, answered the phone. "Oi," she said, her tone enough to intimidate even the most seasoned prankster into whimpering and giving up right there, "what do you want? Out with it."

"He's back," the voice commented to the rather angry sounding woman. Monroe wasn't one of those people who would simply say hello and ask pleasantries. After all, he knew Cadenza wasn't one of the people who enjoyed such discussion... that and the fact that Monroe didn't really have anything else to say to her. When he called Zach's house, he could be a bit more pleasant, but for now, Cadenza needed to know.

"Its been seven months... but Z's back. I can feel it... he's disrupting the spiritual flow right now. WE've gotta be quick... I have the oddest feeling something is wrong. Anyway, you need to check on Selene anyway, don't you? Anyway, I've gotta call and idiot and see if he'll talk to the fairies," the Quincy commented. "Bye," he said as he hung up the phone and dialed the next number. This would be slightly more exciting.

Selene tried generally not to curse. But this was too much. At this point, she couldn't help it. Even if it was just in her own mind, she cursed. Proficiently. She wasn't sure whether she was hallucinating, dreaming, or just insane. She knew she had no desire to see him again, especially like this. Innocent as the day he was born. She shuddered, walked past him to the bathroom and splashed her face with cold water, just to both soothe her irritated eyes and wake up if she was in fact dreaming. She peered out to see him there, tears of his own going down his cheeks.

She thought not.

"I can't answer for you," she responded. It was literally all she could think of. "I don't have time for this... I don't have the patience... I can't deal with it, the pressure is ridiculous, this whole thing is ridiculous! How can you come back to haunt me after so long of me trying so hard to forget it? To forget you!" She buried her forehead in her hands with a harrowed exhale of hopelessness.

"Its been seven months... but Z's back. I can feel it... he's disrupting the spiritual flow right now. WE've gotta be quick... I have the oddest feeling something is wrong. Anyway, you need to check on Selene anyway, don't you? Anyway, I've gotta call an idiot and see if he'll talk to the fairies. Bye."

And with that simple conclusion, after a cartload of anyways to push the awkward phone call along, Monroe hung up, not giving the gypsy a chance to get a word in edgewise. He gave her the bare facts, and left her to take it for what it was, only leaving her with a direction as the only sign that he felt anything but puzzlement at the news. Check on Selene. Yeah, because you clearly don't care, do you...? No one wants to deal with the poor widow... they leave her to cry on her own.

The men might, but Cadenza wasn't going to. She had been in that kind of position... had been reunited with Paris again, after three years of believing him to be dead, mourning him, clinging to love for him... but even then, they hadn't parted on quite the same terms as Selene and Zorlo. Selene was left with a child--and one due soon--and without those words every wife expected to hear, wanted to hear one last time. I love you. He'd been so careless as to forget even that, and in the past few months, Cadenza had listened to and sympathized with how much that'd hurt Selene. How everything leading up to then had, and had finally swelled and built up into this great burden on the angel's shoulders.

And now, delivered in that one flat line of Monroe's, was the news that he was back. As if everything was supposed to pick up from there. Life was paused, just waiting for Zorlo, it seemed to say, and now... well, hell, he was back, so be happy, huh? Happy my ass... Cadenza grumbled to herself, grabbing her bag and her jacket. Sure, she was going to see Selene, as Vossler had suggested. But what she would say, or do, once she got there... that much she couldn't predict.

The woman just felt, if she was going to be a real friend to the angel, she should be there. Someone should. Someone to try and make sense of this whole mess, or at least be a shoulder to lean on.

The phone seemed to ring unanswered for a few seconds. The red haired boy looked at the phone suspiciously as he skulked towards the phone. Conviction told him the fae in the phone wanted his soul, so to answer it was dangerous... but no one else seemed to be coming. He probably would have just let it ring for the next few minutes, but...

"ANSWER THE GODS DAMNED PHONE, ZACH!" a loud, irritated voice yelled up.

"GO TO HELL, 'GRETTA! THE FAIRIES AREN'T GONNA GET MY SOUL!"

"JUST SHUT OUR STUPID GODS DAMNED MOUTH AND ANSWER IT BEFORE I COME UP THERE AND DROWN YOU!"

Zachary scoffed. Like she could actually kill him... still, he didn't want to have to explain to Arietta or Galliard, the only other person in the family in the house he was convinced didn't hate him, why he had gutted Algretta. Very slowly, the red haired man picked up the phone.

"Hello..." he whispered, shuddering as he spoke.

"Oh... good, its you. Anyway, Zach, we've got a situation. Zorlo's returned, but something's off. I feel the fact that Zorlo's powers are a bit unstable. We've gotta go there and help Cadenza if Z's going wild."

Zachary's jaw dropped at the comments. "Man... these fairies are..."

Monroe sighed, exacerbated by the comment, as he responded to that simple, stupid comment. "Zachary, will you just shut up about the God damn fairies or I'll beat the hell out of you. Meet me at Z's house as soon as you're ready. Be careful... we might have a fight on our hands."

The sound of Monroe hanging up the phone prompted Zachary to put the phone on the charger and step away suspiciously again. He considered what had just happened... damn those fairies were clever. Still... he couldn't tell if they were lying or not. "Damn fairies..." the sorcerer commented as he looked at phone.

His curiosity got the better of him. "Arietta, I'm going out for a while. I'll be back soon," he said with a smile as he headed outside. Now, all he had to do was conjure a door to the Dome.

o=)----------- ----------(=o

Monroe smoothed out his Quincy garments as he looked at the door. Tracey was out, working as always, and Monroe had already made Alex's next three meals for that day and the next morning. Still, the dark clad man shuddered suddenly. A massive flux of power. Monroe groaned as he held his hand out and a surge of green light rushed in as a door formed. No one else was home, and this shouldn't take too long, he figured. Now all he had to do was keep Z as in check as he could... or hoped he could.

o=)------------- -----------(=o

Her response. She knew... she knew! Emotion began to well up as she walked past. He hugged himself, tightening his fingers around his arms. Tears began streaming down his face as he looked at her. She knew... SHE KNEW!

"YOU KNOW!" he cried, almost as if in pain. Powerful bursts of wind and energy pulsed off his body, as if threatening to tear everything around him apart. "WHO AM I?! WHY WON'T YOU TELL ME?!" he asked, terribly hurt by her words.

It was the last words... to forget him... emotion swelled up to the point of it bursting out. "I MAY BE FORGOTTEN, BUT I AM WHAT I AM! NOW WHO AM I?!" he asked, his power causing things around the room to lift up and begin swirling around the room.

Suddenly, thin green strings began binding the man. A sudden collapsing of the wires around the man bound his body and the winds began to calm down as Monroe looked at Selene. "Why the hell can't anyone else I know do the smart thing and actually be useful? I've got an idiot, a woman who's clearly a punk, and you, lady. I understand your husband died and that other idiot that was hanging around vanished, but still. God... couldn't even deal with him, could you?"

Monroe rested his hand against his forehead. "This is so stupid... I can't believe I have to stop him for now."

The man struggled as the wires began to tighten around him. The power died down as the green haired man's powers slowly died down as he fell to the ground. "Stop resisting, Z. You need to calm down and be more like the old you."

The sound of him yelling so passionately startled her so much she jumped, her mouth a little agape when she looked towards him. The rush of aura and energy radiating from him pushed her back a little, until she was against the front door with the pressure very uncomfortably increasing. "WHO AM I?! WHY WON'T YOU TELL ME?!" This was quite startling. Selene had never seen Zorlo angry at all, much less yelling at the top of his lungs at her. He had never raised a finger against her. She tried to say something, but no words came. Her breath stilled in her throat, then gushed out with a sudden exhale as another wave of aura crushed it from her lungs. "I MAY BE FORGOTTEN, BUT I AM WHAT I AM! NOW WHO AM I?!"

At this point some of the lighter things in the house began to lift into the air and move in a wide, unstable pattern. She ducked to avoid a picture. Tears filled her eyes. At first she mistook them for tears of sadness, tears of regret, as if she had done something wrong. Maybe she should have accepted it as fate, helped Zorlo, if this was Zorlo, in any way she could. Maybe she was wrong to feel this negative feeling, to be so broken. Then she realized, as quickly as it came, it was not tears of remorse for her action or lack thereof, but tears of anger. Tears of bitter, salty hate. He had no right to come back, yell at her, after all she'd done for him? What right did he have to treat her this way? Well forget it. She was through. She was done accepting it with that sweet smile, hiding her pain.

Then, before she could focus her thoughts, Zorlo was bound by something, pulled down to his feet. Monroe stepped out from near the back door. "Why the hell can't anyone else I know do the smart thing and actually be useful? I've got an idiot, a woman who's clearly a punk, and you, lady. I understand your husband died and that other idiot that was hanging around vanished, but still. God... couldn't even deal with him, could you?"

Couldn't... even deal with him? She stared blankly at him.

"This is so stupid... I can't believe I have to stop him for now."

She looked at Zorlo, who struggled under the tie of the strings. He fell to the ground. "Stop resisting, Z. You need to calm down and be more like the old you."

"Leave me alone..." she murmured softly, turning away to look out the window of the cabin. It was all she could say. Her mind was a jumble of thoughts, slipping through her fingers like water when she tried to focus.

The gypsies have a saying, a little traditional tidbit about when people are talking about you. And it says something like if your left ear is burning, there is someone out there speaking badly about you--and if your right ear is burning, someone out there is speaking kindly. If this were true, then both of Cadenza's ears should have been all kinds of burning today, and somewhere in the back of her head she knew this.

When she stepped out of the Dome door, the cabin was full of more action than she'd ever heard it. Normally she would've made a joke about this, but it wasn't the time. Monroe was shouting, and there was a grunting, groaning second voice, and the noticeable absence of any answering, feminine tones... no sound of Selene. That was already worrying. And coupled with what she knew about what was going on...

Go on, your friend's in there...

Cadenza waited for a lull in the noise, and knocked on the door.

Zorlo barely struggled at this point. He could barely move, and could barely breath. In his unstable state of memory, he couldn't control the aura that his body was filled with as easily. It was an annoying situation for the green haired man as he blinked a few times.

The wires finally loosened as Monroe cast his glance to Selene. "Normally, I would, lady. However, this isn't one of those times. You've got a responsibility to him, just like the rest of us." Even if he didn't fully agree with the statement, the dark clad man knew that this woman was the quickest method of restoring the old Zorlo. To the Quincy, it didn't matter if the green haired man did something after he regained his memory or not. As of right now, all Monroe cared about was solving this **** storm and getting the hell out of there.

After all, when you have family problems of your own, things aren't ever easy.

I don't have time for this, God dammit. Tracey's gonna be leaving soon and Alex'll be home from school. I don't owe Zorlo or Selene anything. In fact, watching the two of them suffer a bit might be worth a good laugh, but they're both so useless and ineffectual that... the dark clad man stopped as his left eye twitched. That twitch...

That twitch indeed. His glance shifted towards the door as he looked at the unconscious Zorlo. "I forgot about her..." he murmured to himself. It was annoying that he had contacted her, but, somewhere deep within his superego, Monroe accepted that Selene needed someone to be there for her. On that note... Cadenza was the only real friend she had... aside from the douche bag swordsman that both Monroe and Zach had, at one point, elected was more useless than Zorlo.

"Good riddance," Monroe commented to himself. After all, access to the Dome did afford some useful things. Mostly notes on people you hated. For Monroe, the list was ever dropping. Still, he found himself adding new people there as well.

"Now then," Monroe said at his full tone, "Zachary should be here soon to diffuse any situations that occur."

Selene moved like a dying woman, painfully slow, slightly hunched over as if nursing a wound only she could see. She turned the knob and pulled, a little at first, then more until Cadenza's face was visible. "Cadenza..." she said, not knowing she did so. It was like a dream, soft, beautiful, the peace before the agony, a moment, however brief, to make the suffering happy. "Please, come in..." She opened the door for the woman to step inside, her face relaxed, but in a way showing only lack of care. Lack of care for whether she did or not, whether Monroe complimented or cursed her, lack of care for life. "Have you met... Zorlo? He's... he's back now..." She was only half-present in that room. The other half of her had sunk into unconsciousness.

How can he be back?... he's dead... he died...