V is for Vagenda (Part 4 - Healer - The High Cost Of Living)
Shivers run through my spine -
cold, bright, shiny, sparkly, tingly shocks making Goosebumps all over my skin.
I get light headed for a second as I recover. I see lights and almost scream,
were it not so embarrassing for it to be known how it feels. Back arched,
biting my lip, Channeling from my toes, up my spine, to my ears, and then
shooting down my arms - incredible energy manifests into a visual phenomenon
that excites and already over excited array of neurons as synapses start to
snap - a moment, ever so brief, of darkness as I inhale...
HEALER...
THE HIGH COST OF LIVING
I'm alone in a limo driving through the countryside’s rolling hills and vast
fields of wheat and corn. My favorite farms have the horses. I've been down
this road so many times and I can't wait to finally see home. I always imagine,
in my mind, that I am weaving a pale mauve ribbon back and forth between the
passing telephone poles - lost in my useless fantasy as the sun flickers in
shards hitting my face in the minute instances light breaks through the trees.
I roll down the window... it goes back up on its own... then Alfred says
"I guess it could hardly matter by this point, child" and let's it go
back down. Fresh air. So happy. My heart is racing. I can't wait!
I'm finally coming home!
It is exactly what I need to heal. I've not even had a league for support since Area 51. Only Mistycal, Raiden, and the tank talk to me. The month went by fast as I went from one wing of the medical ward to another and finally landing with Batman... Batman....
You're not another stranger now, you're not another face lost in the crowd - anymore. I love you and hate you so much, the double-edged sword of hope you bring me is so beautiful but also killing me with it's overshadowing hopelessness. I've already had some second chances and live on borrowed time. You jerk my heart around with this hope, knowing I have a little one. I should be dead. So many secrets and layers to protect her, so much responsibility and moral obligation with these powers, yet I have to also prepare her for this world in the time I have available to do so.
Why can I do little things that shouldn't be part of this package deal that is the powers supplied by the exos? Two weeks of injections and trials, blood work, Upper GI’s, radioactive dyes, follow-throughs, scopes - all this prodding and poking, testing and mapping - genetic sequencing and anti-TNF formulas and anti-body variants. I lay on an MRI table, alone with Batman as he runs further scans again in the biological containment lab built in the Batcave just for me as Robin walks in.
"Any luck, Bruce?", Robin asks in a particularly happy mood.
After a long awkward silence, Batman turns from the screen "I can't metastasize her T-cells once the re-sequencing is corrected." He runs another simulation on screen as they watch silently.
"What was that?" Robin exclaims, being no geneticist, but knowing a purple volt of what looked like fork lightning jumped between cells like a second heartbeat, exploding and ultimately killing any cell without an enclosed membrane.
"The timing almost seems like it is coming from the electrical pulse that the exobytes operated on before they released their payload, but it isn't right. This is an adaption to it within her. The source of the current is unknown, but it is altering how her own immune system functions. The exobytes operated on a fixed timing - this is accelerating. The more she heals, the faster it gets. Ultimately, whatever this is, it amplifies her heals at the expense of her own life"
My eyes pop open in anguish, as I hear Batman over the com "Are you alright?" I nod saying it was just a cramp. He doesn't think I can hear them. I shouldn't be able to hear them. Why can I hear them? I hate that he can see me laying in this thing crying... I flood my mind with daydreams to block their voices out. Sometimes daydreams are all I have and no one can take them away from me. I just can't shake this feeling that I'm better off not knowing. Sometimes I wish I could just disappear.
Robin asks "What are you going to do? Tell her to DPS?" A long silence...
That was then and this is now. I'm on my well-deserved vacation. Adding to the rest of the saga, nearly dying in Area 51, and the public backlash that resulted in my exile from the league, I need a vacation. No more fallen heroes. No more tests. No more lies. No more betrayal. No more empty hope. It's beginning to add to more time than can ever be gained. It is time to live.
Let me wrap imaginary ribbons between telephone poles, enjoy sunlight and fresh air, and the excitement of spending long overdue time with my little one. Honestly, Alfred can't drive fast enough down the 115. It is time to recuperate.
I can't wait to have BBQ!
V
I'm finally coming home!
It is exactly what I need to heal. I've not even had a league for support since Area 51. Only Mistycal, Raiden, and the tank talk to me. The month went by fast as I went from one wing of the medical ward to another and finally landing with Batman... Batman....
You're not another stranger now, you're not another face lost in the crowd - anymore. I love you and hate you so much, the double-edged sword of hope you bring me is so beautiful but also killing me with it's overshadowing hopelessness. I've already had some second chances and live on borrowed time. You jerk my heart around with this hope, knowing I have a little one. I should be dead. So many secrets and layers to protect her, so much responsibility and moral obligation with these powers, yet I have to also prepare her for this world in the time I have available to do so.
Why can I do little things that shouldn't be part of this package deal that is the powers supplied by the exos? Two weeks of injections and trials, blood work, Upper GI’s, radioactive dyes, follow-throughs, scopes - all this prodding and poking, testing and mapping - genetic sequencing and anti-TNF formulas and anti-body variants. I lay on an MRI table, alone with Batman as he runs further scans again in the biological containment lab built in the Batcave just for me as Robin walks in.
"Any luck, Bruce?", Robin asks in a particularly happy mood.
After a long awkward silence, Batman turns from the screen "I can't metastasize her T-cells once the re-sequencing is corrected." He runs another simulation on screen as they watch silently.
"What was that?" Robin exclaims, being no geneticist, but knowing a purple volt of what looked like fork lightning jumped between cells like a second heartbeat, exploding and ultimately killing any cell without an enclosed membrane.
"The timing almost seems like it is coming from the electrical pulse that the exobytes operated on before they released their payload, but it isn't right. This is an adaption to it within her. The source of the current is unknown, but it is altering how her own immune system functions. The exobytes operated on a fixed timing - this is accelerating. The more she heals, the faster it gets. Ultimately, whatever this is, it amplifies her heals at the expense of her own life"
My eyes pop open in anguish, as I hear Batman over the com "Are you alright?" I nod saying it was just a cramp. He doesn't think I can hear them. I shouldn't be able to hear them. Why can I hear them? I hate that he can see me laying in this thing crying... I flood my mind with daydreams to block their voices out. Sometimes daydreams are all I have and no one can take them away from me. I just can't shake this feeling that I'm better off not knowing. Sometimes I wish I could just disappear.
Robin asks "What are you going to do? Tell her to DPS?" A long silence...
That was then and this is now. I'm on my well-deserved vacation. Adding to the rest of the saga, nearly dying in Area 51, and the public backlash that resulted in my exile from the league, I need a vacation. No more fallen heroes. No more tests. No more lies. No more betrayal. No more empty hope. It's beginning to add to more time than can ever be gained. It is time to live.
Let me wrap imaginary ribbons between telephone poles, enjoy sunlight and fresh air, and the excitement of spending long overdue time with my little one. Honestly, Alfred can't drive fast enough down the 115. It is time to recuperate.
I can't wait to have BBQ!
V
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