Chain

Slowly but surely Dylan climbed out of his gloom. He healed. It took time, but it happened. And Charlie found her eyes watching him through the whole process. Even when he had climbed almost completely out, she still would catch herself staring at him out of the corners of her eyes. And sometimes she caught him doing the same. When that happened she always glanced away, giggling slightly at the reddening of his cheeks. And they say redheads blush easily! she thought to herself. Dylan is quicker to blush than I am and his hair's darker than a raven's wing! I thought I was the one with red hair.

And then before she knew it a year had passed. Charlie had been collecting souls for a year. A whole year. Today was the anniversary of her death. And she hadn't changed a bit. She looked over at Dylan. "Why do I look like this?"

He furrowed his eyebrows. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, why do I look like my body looked?" Charlie looked down at her fingers, wiggling them a little bit. "Why do souls look like their bodies after they are taken from them?"

Dylan looked at her quizzically. "You know, I don't really know. I've never found an answer to that one. I asked Master, and he had no answer either. He didn't even have an interest, really. I have a theory, though. I think souls may be elastic. They are able to be the shape they need to be. Mayhap they already have a gender and a personality, but the shape is changeable. But once they have a body, that is theirs. I don't know if souls are recycled, I won't know until I pass out of this world to whatever comes next, but I think until they pass they mean to keep the shape of the body they are given. And when they are ripped from their bodies before their time, they instinctively take the last shape they knew, which would be the body they came from. Like I said though, it's just a theory."

Charlie shrugged. "I suppose I can accept it, being that I have no better answer."

Dylan flashed her a grin. "You suppose?"

She laughed. "Yes, I suppose." Charlie was still laughing when she sat next to Dylan on the couch. She leaned against the arm of her side of the couch. "That a problem?"

He raised an eyebrow. "Why would it be? We're entitled to our own opinions. Even when they're wrong."

She kicked him playfully. "Whatever, Dylan. You're just sore since I'm only accepting you're theory since I don't have one of my own."

He shook his head, grabbing her foot. "Who does that make look bad, huh?" He said, shaking her foot gently. He dropped it off the side of the couch. "I'm not the one who's taking a theory because I can't think of my own. I'm not even a soul, and I've still got a theory. You're actually a soul. Shouldn't I be taking your theory?"

She nudged Dylan in the ribs with the toes of the foot he hadn't dropped off the couch, turning her face away from him. "Oh, whatever."

He chuckled lightly. "When you say whatever you're just admitting you have no good response."

Charlie turned to retort and found that he had leaned in close to her. Dylan's face was closer and he had a devilish grin on his face that made her breath hitch. But it wasn't fear. She blinked, then blinked again. The shock had scared away her words. His grin turned into a frown at her expression. "Are you okay?"

She shook her head to clear her mind as she scrambled to get off of the couch. "Y-yeah. I'm fine. I'm just... I'm going to go to the kitchen. To get some water. I'm... I'm thirsty."

His frown deepened and he stood and walked a few steps towards her. But Charlie stepped back and away from him. "Charlie, you don't drink. Anything. You're a soul. You don't get thirsty."

"I-I know. I just felt like drinking something today, alright?"

Dylan nodded, though his face still showed his confusion. Charlie rushed from the room and into the kitchen. She filled a glass with water, though she didn't drink from it. Finally, she sunk down to the floor and brought her knees to her chest, hugging them tightly. She rested her face against her kneecaps. What is wrong with me? she thought to herself. Why does Dylan suddenly have such an effect?

Charlie willed herself into the clearing, a trick she had learned when Dylan's silence was at it's most unbearable. She ignored the late hours. Dylan would most likely have sent her away soon anyway so he could sleep. He said he didn't want her watching him sleep, that it was creepy. Frankly, she agreed. She found her clearing similar to the way she had left it, though the growth was a bit thicker. Immediately she began to walk away from the clearing. It was an unthinking walk. She just let her feet carry her where they wanted her to go. All the while she thought. Of Dylan, and of her feelings when it came to him. There were too many of them. She was so confused.

Eventually her feet brought her to the bedroom of her best friend. They brought her to Brier. For a moment Charlie just stared at her sleeping friend, confused. And then she smiled, brushing a dark curl off her face. "Hello, Brier. How are you faring? You can smile again, right? I bet you can. That's a good thing." She sat next to her friend, feeling nostalgic.

And then Brier began to stir. She opened her eyes and blinked one, two, three times. "Charlie?"

Charlie felt her heart jump into her throat. "I'm a dream, Brier. You're just remembering me since it's been a year since I've died."

"I guess that makes sense. God, Charles. I've missed you!" Brier reached a hand and touched Charlie's face with hesitant fingers. "You feel real, even if you aren't."

Charlie smiled at that. "Dreams always feel real, Brier. While I'm here you want to help me with something?" Charlie knew that this was why her feet carried her here. It was selfish, but it was also a habit. Brier was always there for her when Charlie needed her, back when she was alive. Now, when she was dead, it seemed she still needed her best friend. "But first, Happy Birthday. You turned eighteen a few days ago, right?"

"Yeah, thanks. You turned seventeen, what? Two months ago?"

"Should of, but I didn't. I'm forever sixteen, Bri."

Brier hung her head. "I know. I wish it weren't true, but I know." She wiped at her eyes before tears could even fall, and then looked up. "So what's the help you need?" she asked, her voice forcefully cheerful.

Charlie felt guilty, as well she should have. She was forcing her friend to reface loosing someone, all for her own selfish desires. But she couldn't leave now. "Well..." she started. And then she went on to explain everything. She started with Maureen and how she actually died. And then she went on about meeting Dylan, about being Marioneta. She told about everything. It took a decent amount of time, but she got it all out. And then she went on to talk about feelings, and the confusion being around Dylan made her feel lately. "I don't get it, Bri. Why do I feel like this now?"

Brier laughed, of all things. "You're still the same, aren't you Charlie? You love him, you big dolt. Plain and simple." Brier laid back on her bed and sighed. "I would dream about helping you with relationship problems, wouldn't I? Lord knows I did enough of it when you were alive."

"Love?" Charlie asked, brows creased.

"Yes, love."

Charlie let the thought sink in, and then she rolled it around in her mind, getting the feel for it. And yet, the more it lingered there the less preposterous the idea sounded. "Hey Brier? I think you're right. I think I do love him."

Brier rolled her eyes. "Of course you do. Only someone dense like you wouldn't realize that."

"My god, Brier. I love him. I love that... that... Dylan!"

Brier laughed. "So you do."

Charlie let that sit there a moment, finally accepting it. The girls talked a few more hours about random things. Brier let Charlie in on the happenings of town. She said that Mr. and Mrs. Matherson were still sad, but that they were learning to smile again. They visited Brier and her parents a lot, since Charlie spent so much time there before she died. But they were learning to move on. They had signed up to be foster parents, something they had always talked about doing. That made Charlie smile.

Eventually, though, it got too late. Charlie touched Brier's forehead. "Sleep," she said simply, enforcing the command a bit by extending her soul into the girl. It was a different process than stealing a soul, but it started much the same way. As soon as the girl was asleep Charlie got off her bed. She kissed Brier's forehead. "Thanks, Brier. You've always been my best friend. I'm sorry I bugged you tonight."

Charlie went back to the clearing and rested on her log. Eventually her thoughts turned back to Dylan. Now that she thought of it, the fact that she loved him seemed so obvious, though she still couldn't figure out how her loathing of him had turned to love.

Whatever the reason, the cause, it's true, she thought to herself. She stared at the stars, a small smile on her lips. Absolutely, and undeniably true.