Nocturnal

Life's made of moments. Moments are brief, flicker and fragile. Bad and good. They both exist; but when a bad thing happens... we don't focus on good ones. There is no good, only evil. Suffering, torment and anguish convulsing your body, twisting your thoughts in a slow, painful demise, telling you you'll never make it out alive—that you're not breathing.

As I watched the flames, the sirens, firemen and paramedics... that was all I felt. Along with a staggering rush and violence, there was a door slam after me. My legs were carrying me, numbly, across the pavement towards the blistering flames. My heart desperate, uncomprehending of what I was seeing. No. This couldn't be—no. No. No, no, no—I cried out when arms wrapped my waist.

"No, no, let me go..." I whispered. "Let me go... let me go, let me go, let me go!" My voice reached high levels, raged and pitched.

"Nina—"

I shook my head frantically. No. This couldn't be happening. No, it couldn't, it just... no.

"Please, please—God, no, no...!" I kicked twisting, squirming in Cameron's hold. He never let go, pulling me away to a dark lawn, keeping us apart from the gathered crowd around my house. My burning, crumbling house. "This can't be happening, please..." my tears were running.

One body bag. Two. Three—no. Christ, don't let this be reality. Don't. My head twisted and Phillip was coming up to us, a winded, far-off expression on his face. Phillip. Mind stopping, I tugged so suddenly I nearly broke free of Cam's hold.

"Make it stop!" He turned my way fast. Blue eyes wide. "Stop it, the fire—stop it!" I yelled in a choked sob.

His electric eyes soft, emphatic, remained on mine for a second before moving up. To Cameron's. And they became... serious, but there was a truth flashing between the twins. What was it? What did they know I didn't?

"Nina," Cameron hushed. "It's not..." he didn't finish like the words were to heavy too get out.

Phillip met my eyes again. I pleaded with him, avoiding looking at another fireman leaving my house with... no. I couldn't process it, I refused it. Denied it. When I focused on my ex-boyfriend, he was taking off his tux handing it to his brother, who draped it on my shoulders as best as possible with me fighting to run away.

"How many people were in the house?" he asked velvety, his gaze swollen with compassion.

How many...? "Huh... I... I can't... I don't—" I shook my head. What did that matter? Why wasn't he using his powers? Why was my house still on fire— "Five," I surprised myself. "Five... why does it matter? Phillip please, please make it go away..." I begged him.

He shook as if my request caused him a sheet amount of pain.

"They only got four out," Cam's voice was soft, I didn't think he wanted me to hear it. "All adults. Her brother's still inside."

Henry? It was all I got. Henry was inside that blazing heat? My little brother? No! I had to—then Phillip vanished. He'd taken off with his high-speed. Where? Where was he? I needed him here! I needed him to put his darn pyro-ability to work.

"He's gone inside, okay?" Cameron murmured into my ear. "He's going to try and... find your brother. Nina, are you listening?"

Was I listening? I was. But I didn't want to. I didn't want to see. What did this mean? This unfolding scene with people gasping shocked, firemen shaking their heads—why did it feel it was all happening in slow motion? Why weren't the paramedics filling up the ambulances? No. This couldn't mean that. It couldn't, this wasn't...

"Cameron..." I managed, looking up to him. "This... what's... it can't be. Right? It's not..." I was seeing him through blurry eyes; they stung and hurt, but no pain was as bad as the one inside, weighing down my limbs and compressing my organs, it was all overwhelming.

Too much.

His dark hair fell forward as he breathed, his chest hardly filling. Cam's face lines were painted in a sad, agonizing picture, reflecting how I felt. Faintly, I wondered how that was. How did he look exactly how I felt inside? Like I was writhing for air but there was only void, like in outer-space. His arms hugged me tightly, showing no intention of letting go.

"I'm so sorry, Nina." Cam said. He didn't know what else to tell me. I didn't like lies. And how would he lie when... when I was right there? Seeing all of it. "I'm so, so sorry..." he echoed but I shook my head doubling my efforts to repress a realization.

"No, no, Cameron they can't be... they can't be dead!" I spat the word. "They just can't! I saw them two hours ago, it couldn't have been more... they weren't... they were... everything was fine!" He stroke my hair, laying my head against his chest. "No, it can't..." I cried in a hellish repeat. It couldn't, but... it was. My subconscious was wide-awake telling me to face the grim reality of what was happening, of what I was facing.

There were screams from front, the firemen were huddling up around something—someone. Hope blossomed in my chest when I saw Phillip back away from the paramedics with oxygen masks. He stumbled a couple more steps before taking off to our side, falling to his knees beside me, beside his brother. His hair was filthy with soot, but the shirt was the worst, grim with smut. Had it ever been white? The tan of his skin disappeared under all the sooty ashes.

"You're brother's okay." My heart crashed with relief. "He's going to be alright, Nina. I found him in a bathroom, the tiles aren't good to burn it took longer for fire to spread there." I wasn't interest in his explanation. Henry was safe. But if my brother was safe, why was he looking antsy? Beyond worried?

"What, Phill?" Cam asked.

He shook his head. He didn't want to talk in front of me. Not right now, which meant it was bad. Whatever Phillip had to say wasn't going to make my life any easier.

"Later..." I heard him mutter. "They're taking him to the—"

It came when I was glaring at the play of lights. My head split in two, my hands dashed to my head crying with torment. For a minute, it was like watching a movie, then came the screams of horror and they merged with my fear and misery. No one should ever see the people they love in pain, crying out as flames licked their bodies, gasping for breath—holding on to their life as hard as they could—seeing the light leave their eyes. Even Rose!

Oh, God. The pressure in my chest grew stronger, stabbing with thousand needles in my brain. This was horrible. I wanted to stop. Whatever was happening, however I was watching this horror show...

I needed to make it stop!

"Nina!" I was being whirled, shaken, but couldn't stop crying from loss, pain, fright. "Nina, listen to me—pull out of it! Your emotions are out of control. Get a grip, listen to me." He implored.

"No—no, I can't! My whole family... I... They're dead!" It left me in a howl. My hands were grasped. I doubled with tears streaming like the horrifying images. "It's my fault! This... it's my fault, it's me..." I sobbed never tearing my eyes open. "She just wanted a fresh start, because of me... this is all my fault...!"

Strong arms pulled at me, long fingers grasped my face making me feel something... more than the cruel events I was experiencing behind closed eyes. It was grounding, mesmerizing and magnetic. It was Cameron. And I clung to him like a coward, not able to take on more pain. I wanted it to stop. He could make it stop.

"It hurts—just... make it stop! Please, make it stop." My fingers dug into his wrists.

"I can help you, let me help you." He whispered closer, our foreheads pressed up. "Shut it off," I choked a cry. "Put the wall between you and your Power. Just like we practiced." A wall, the yellow energy and me. A wall between us.

"I can't... Cam, I can't."

"Yes, you can. You can because I believe in you, okay? You're strong Nina, I know you are." His voice had never sounded so sultry, low and intimate. "Do it for me? I don't want to see you in pain, so please, do it for me?"

For him. There was more to those words. That truth I couldn't grasp. I just knew that for him... yes, I could—I would do anything for him.

So, I shut it out. The visions stopped. My pain subsided.

I slumped against his chest not caring about one little thing. Right then, I was enjoying the lack of rough, lacerating hurt. It wasn't going to last, I knew it. Cameron's breathing matched mine, faintly, I heard his heartbeat. A lulling, familiar sound.

His fingers ran down my tawny strands. My hands were fisted in his dark shirt, there was already a wet patch on it—from my tears. So many tears.

I couldn't even begin to imagine what happened now. What would happen.

"Henry," I murmured above a whisper. "I need... I need to go with him." I wiped the fat trails down my cheeks.

Cameron unstuck a piece of hair, tucking it gently. "No," I stared. "Phillip's going to take you to our place. You'll be safe there."

Safe? "Safe? Why do I need to be safe, Cameron?" I bit on edge.

"We'll talk about it later. After..." he glanced over my shoulder. "After you've calmed down." He cut my next words. "I'll make sure you're brother's alright. I'll protect him."

Protect him? I didn't understand. Wasn't this a gas leak? Idiot, of course not. It was supernatural. That only made it worse, it really was my fault. All on me.

"Cam, I can go. You can stay—"

"You're not going anywhere except home." Cameron ground out with authority. "Don't even think of leaving our property, Phillip, or so help me—" he stopped himself, jaw clenching. "You could use a shower, too."

Phillip closed his bright eyes, exhaling softly. His hands reached for my tux-clad arms, pulling me gently from his twin. Despite everything, I didn't want to be away from Cameron.

"Let me go with you."

"No. You're going with Phill, I'll keep him safe, trust me." But... I wanted him. I needed him. "Nina, I can take care of your brother, of myself, I can't look after you, too." Dead-weight, my mind hissed cruelly.

I had an ability to see into the future—and past, like I'd experienced earlier—but I couldn't make use of it. If I knew how to control it, how to read the signs... my family wouldn't...

I allowed Phillip to take me away, to Cameron's car. We'd left the Winter Ball as soon as I told him. Hard to imagine I'd been having such an amazing dance minutes before. In the car, Phill turned on music. I wrapped my arms around myself as he drove—fast.

"Thank you for saving my little brother." I shifted my head, looking at him. His hair looked black, like Cam's, only his eyes were still the same.

"I wish I could've saved all of them." My eyes flared in hurt. "I'm sorry, Nina. I really am." He really was. The childlike undertone transmitted complete honesty.

Like... he was reliving something—oh snap. His parents... they died in a fire! Their house had been brunt to the ground. Heart pounding with sorrow for both him and Cameron, I swallowed a sob. I didn't want to add to Phillip's trip down memory lane.

A gentle side-glance passed between us. I closed my eyes trying to find some peace of mind in the middle of all the muddled confusion, the tempest of change to come. How could I think about the future when I hadn't assimilated it? My whole family—mom, dad, Nigel... Rose?—were dead. It seemed impossible; a bad dream.

But I wasn't waking up.

Inside their house, I felt cold. It was so big, mostly impersonal. A castle far-off from all else. Phillip guided me upstairs after I shook my head at the thought of eating or drinking. With the smell coming from his clothes and body, I'd throw up. Or if I closed my eyes and saw my vision...

He led me into a room I'd never been before. The walls were a beautiful, dark blue. A tall, queen-sized bed was pushed into a wall, in front of it, was a large glass desk. A MacBook rested on it, scattered papers, school books and pens. Not organized at all. Pushed into another corner of the bedroom was a small screen TV hanging on the wall, a bean chair, stacks of comics... and a fish tank on a dresser.

"This is my bedroom," he said softly, nodding me inside. "I'm going to shower and change clothes, I'll be quick." The look in his eyes said he didn't want to leave me alone, not even for a five-minute shower.

I would've smiled. It felt like I'd never be able to smile again, though.

I nodded sitting on the edge of his bed, unsure. Phill sighed shakily going over to a door—a light lit inside, it was his closet. He came out with sweat pants and a T-shirt heading for another door. Bathroom, I guessed.

Alone, inside Phillip's bedroom, my shoulders began shaking. My frame trembled as more tears cascaded down my cheeks. I noticed I was colder—Phill's jacket had slipped off. My face hid in my hands.

All I could think—remember—was how mom was ecstatic with happiness, how dad had come all the way here for me and... because of me... And Nigel! Oh God, what was going to happen to Henry? What was I going to tell him? His parents were dead. Our parents were gone.

Warm hands ran down my shoulders, stopping on my elbows. My hands started to fall away to see those stunning blues look up, worried, pained, angry and sympathetic. Phillip was showered, no hint he'd been in a burning building whatsoever. And he was kneeling in front of me.

"I'm... I'm sorry..." I tried wiping at my cheeks.

His hands held mine, shaking his head. "It's okay to cry, baby, don't apologize for it. It's okay—it's good." His thumbs brushed wetness away, more came as I erupted into a heart wrenching, bawling mess. "Come here," he got up wrapping me securely into his safe embrace.

Burying my face into Phill's chest wasn't the same as Cameron's, but it felt good. Comfortable. Safe in his own way, like a brother protecting a sister. His heat veiled my skin and I realized how much I'd missed him and cried harder.

"They're gone Phillip... how can they..." I sobbed uncontrollably. "What am I going to do...? What about Henry and... and—oh! I just don't know." I couldn't talk anymore.

Phillip continued holding me, caressing my shoulders, brushing away hair, kissing my head. He didn't shush me, promise that it would be okay, or whisper sweet nothings—because he knew that was all they'd be, nothings.

It wouldn't be okay. Not for a long time, right?

I lost all notion of time curled into him, on his bed. Eventually, my puffy, blotched eyes must've closed, because for precious moments, I felt at ease. Numb, detached, as if I'd become a spectator—watching as everything unfolded from outside my body. And it felt heavenly, like I had no emotions.

***

I stirred. Groaning, I pulled closer to the warmth. It was so welcome and tranquilizing. Peeking, I saw light, copper hair. Hmm, Phillip?

"Hi," he murmured.

Blinking, I glided my eyes to his. They were very much open, albeit tired, like they hadn't slept. My hands were coiled into his plain T-shirt. Blushing, I let go.

"Sorry," my voice came out raw.

"That's fine," Phill smiled kindly; an arm surrounded my waist, keeping us up-close—not too close. "Did something wake you up?"

I blinked, "A headache." I touched a temple—it was a light sting, nothing I couldn't handle. "It's nothing much, though." We gazed at each other for quite sometime until I asked, "Did it really happen...?"

Phillip nodded, tucking a lose hair. He kissed my head whispering something delicate. A second went by, and I didn't start crying my eyes out. Had they run out? By the looks of Phill's cotton shirt, that seemed plausible. It was drenched.

My fingers traced the wet stain, slowly.

"What time is it?"

"A little after five." That meant nothing to me, I couldn't remember when I fell asleep. "Are you thirsty?" I was, but I shook my head. I didn't want him going anywhere. He lowered his head back down, sandy hair splayed wildly, face relaxed—he looked much younger.

"You didn't get any sleep?"

"Not tired," I saw through the lie easily. "Cam still hasn't shown up, or called. Or texted." He frowned deeply at that; he was worried. "He's fine, though."

"How do you know?" I mustered, hiding most of my gagging concern.

Phillip's lip edges curved, "It's a twin thing." My mouth perked tiredly. "Which means Henry's fine, too, don't worry about him." Impossible.

The pillow underneath was plush, so was the mattress which was wonderful, my body felt like it had been put through a shredder. Looking down, I saw I was still wearing my golden dress. Now, though, it was smudged with grass, dirt and faint smoke.

I didn't have any clothes. It was all... gone. All of it. My family, my house... everything. Every piece of childhood I'd kept in my bedroom, every scrap book mom made along the years... it was just gone.

"Does it ever go away?" my lashes flickered, tears never far.

The younger twin studied my question silently, smoothing a hand down my hair.

"No, it doesn't. But—" he paused swallowing thickly. "Eventually it numbs to the back of your mind. A silent throb. It's like... losing a hand or a leg, the pain doesn't last forever but there's always going to be something missing, an emptiness." Regret swam in my head, I didn't want him dwelling on his loss.

Agitation filled me, "I don't know what to do." I confessed. "I don't know... anything. I'm all alone and there's Henry—what I'm going to say to him?" I snapped my eyes closed. "God, Phillip. This is all my fault, if I hadn't gone to the stupid ball or paid attention to my dreams—but I'm such a stupid idiot."

The lake-blue gaze stopped, alarmed. "You... dreamed about that?"

I bit my lip, "No—not that. All I saw was fire, flames, really." But that was no excuse, I should've known, I should've figured something—
"None of it is your fault, Nina, none of it." He cupped my face. "Please don't blame yourself, it wasn't your fault. You didn't know. No one could have known—you saw flames, nothing else. How were you supposed to read it?" he shook his head sadly, but determined. "You're not to blame."

I said nothing. He was my friend; friends comforted one another when shit happened. And this was some major shit.

"You're not buying a word I'm saying, are you?" he admonished. I flushed. "Of course not. Damn, you two are so alike I'm beginning to think if you're not actually his twin."

Was he talking about Cameron? "Me and Cam?" I mused. "Why?"

Phillip graced me with a disbelieving chuckle. "You're kidding, right?" I tilted my head. He rolled onto his back, my body scurried closer missing his warmth. Staring at the ceiling, he talked, "You haven't noticed all the things you have in common? You read books like you're eating ice-cream, you hate letting people in, you're stubborn, protective, and guiltridden." His head turned to me, a rueful smirk on. "That's why you're so explosive together—you're two peas in a pod."

Softness overtook my face as I laid my head next to his shoulder, refusing to share how he was right. The outdoorsy smell acted like balm on my heart, slowing it, inspiring calmness into my spirit.

"I've missed you, Phillip..." I mumbled drowsily, nuzzling my head closer. "You're so warm."

He smiled cutely, turning on his side once more, kissing my head.

"I aim to please, Miss Cortez." There was a dimple peeking. He was so genuine. "Nina?" his voice dropped. "About what you're going to do...?" he said hesitantly, fearing my reaction. I just listened, eyes dropping. "You're not alone. Never. We'll be here for you, whatever you need, you'll never be on your own, baby."

Hotness claimed my eyes, I closed them keeping in a new batch of tears. My eyes would pop from my sockets if I shed one more tear. Finding safe haven in his words, I let sleep claim me.

Wondering at the same time, who'd been responsible for the fire, what Cameron and Phillip knew that I didn't.