Twisted Returns

The sunlight falls onto my face, the warmth caressing my skin. The windows are finally back, and sometimes I feel alive again.

I can walk a bit now. Sometimes I am allowed to walk outside, in the ruined gardens. Sometimes I find a stray flower, and it gives me hope that maybe I can survive this too.

I always go with Dean. Things are quiet between us. Now awkward, not tense, just quiet. Eventually, my legs give up and I fall. And he's always there to catch me. Just as he had before.

I sit at the window, watching the barren landscape. There are no more figures fighting like I had seen in the shelter. Thought it might just be my eyes - everything is always blurry and unfocused now. But at least I'm not blind.

"Dana," a voice says behind me. It takes me a few seconds to turn my body, but when I do, I see that it's Dean.

"Hi," I say. It's an easy word for me to say. I still can't form complex sentences. It feels like I'm learning how to speak all over again. But it's harder, since I know the words. I just can't transfer it into sound. So far, one or two word answers are the best I can get.

"Hey," he responds. "Can you walk now?"

"Why?"

"We're going to visit someone."

"Where?" I hope it's outside, though I'm not sure if my body can take it.

"Here in the hospital. Someone's injured, but it's not too bad."

"Who?" I'm surprised to hear that. I thought the war was over. But no one tells me anything anymore. And he's probably lying to me. It's probably lethal and terrifying. I suppose it doesn't really matter.

"Andrew. And Wessley."

Andrew? But he wasn't even in battle. As for Wessley, I don't know if I want to see him. I shake my head and say, "walking."

He knows exactly what I mean. "I can carry you if you want." I stand up then and see him flinch. He knows what I'm thinking. He knows that I'm afraid to be close enough to hear his heartbeat. He knows his greatest wish is my worst fear.

Still, I take his hand when we walk down the hallway, feeling that everlasting guilt. I know I'm just using him, and he knows it too. I can't stop myself from doing it.

The walk to the hospital is uneventful, although I'm glad to see that walking is easier now. Dean leads me to a room. I don't know how he knows which one it is; they all look the same to me.

Entering the room, I see that there are two beds with one person on each. They look fine to me. Or maybe it's just the fact that my vision of the world is skewed that makes them look this way.

"Hey, what happened?" Dean asks Andrew, who is sitting up on his bed and reading a book. If he has to ask, then it probably isn't very clear what is wrong here. So maybe I am seeing things correctly, for once.

"I don't know for sure," Andrew says. His voice is steady and clear. I'm really starting to doubt the fact that he is injured. "I was told that it had something to do with memory. I feel okay, though."

"Well, I guess it isn't so bad then, is it?"

"I guess. This whole war thing is so... shocking. I really don't know what to think anymore, and the doctors won't let me leave. I don't see what's wrong. They don't explain much... But through it all, I'm glad you and Diana are still together, Charlie."

This raises the first alarm. The names. And he thinks we're still together. Which we are... kind of.

"Uh, yeah," Dean says, shifting his weight and loosening his grip on my hand a bit. "I guess. Well, I'm glad you're okay, Andrew."

A look of confusion passes over Andrew's face. "Who's Andrew?"

Dean doesn't say anything. Andrew just furrows his brew and goes back to reading. The prolonged silence helps me finally realize what I should have known from the beginning - he's stuck in the past.

Of course he thinks we're together still. It seems like he's suck in our past lives, before we were ever human. Of course he doesn't know who Andrew is. His legal name is Jason. He hasn't been near any Terrans that would have called him Andrew.

Dean leads me to the other bed, with Wessley on it. He seems to be sleeping and I'm kind of glad about that. I don't particularly want to talk to him. Not after the lie he's been a part of.

"Wessley?"" Dean asks tentatively, while I hope he doesn't hear.

"I wouldn't wake him up if I were you," Andrew says, looking up from his book. "It's kinda... horrible."

"What? Why? What's wrong with him?"

"He's been cursed wish something. Flashbacks, I heard them say. I think he's being forced to live his worst moments over again in his head."

I cringe at that, feeling bad for Wessley, though I feel like my worst moments were probably worse. I know that I said this aloud, there would always be someone who thinks they have it worse than me. They could be right, I don't know anymore.

"What is it like when he's awake?"

"Crying. Screaming. Shuddering. No one can really seem to get through to him."

"Oh. I guess we'll go, then," Dean says. "Don't want to disturb you guys."

Andrew shrugs and sticks his nose back in his book. "Okay. See you guys later, I guess."

----

"I think it's almost over," Dean says. "The war, I mean."

"Why?"

"They're no longer hurting people. Not physically, anyways. They're going for a most psychological angle."

"So?"

"So that means they - " he stops speaking. A strange expression passes over his face and immediately I feel the panic rising. He sees this in my expression and reassures me, "No, nothing like that."

"Then?"

"I have to go meet up with Marigold about something."

"Okay," I say, starting to get up from the bed.

He shakes his head. "I've been asked to go alone."