Chain Me

Reveals

     Just as I expected the General called for my report on whether or not Lost had adapted and should be allowed to be in the field. I ran around my true thoughts with him, still unsure if Lost was ready. To his credit the General sensed my hesitation and gave me two more days to decide. After that time was up, though, he'd need an answer. He made that point crystal clear.
     I make sure Lost is still in the apartment and ask her to inform me or leave a note if she plans to go somewhere, but she tells me that she'll stay home. So I leave her to her doings in the kitchen then go take a shower to get ready for the day. I plan on taking Lost out for my own personal test, to see if her micro aggressions are because she's cooped up or if it's something else. Granted, this may end badly, but I'll give Mariam a head's up on what I'm going to do. If I need her and Cas they'll be aware and ready. If this test works out, though, I can truthfully tell the General that Lost is prepared to work without a doubt. At least with her in the field she won't have to go back to the field and be kept under lock and key for an undetermined amount of time.
     As I'm stepping out of the shower I hear the doorbell ring, and I quickly wrap my towel around my body then open the bathroom door. Steam rolls out into the hall as I try to listen to see if Lost has answered the door. She has, and if I'm not mistaken, she's talking to Mariam. I have no idea what Mariam would want right now but I need to talk to her, anyway, so this is fine.
     Holding tightly to my towel, I hurry to my room and tap my door closed with my foot as I rush to find clothes to wear. I manage to put on underwear and a shirt before feeling the need to brush out my hair, and I tie it up still wet while I go into my closet to grab a pair of jeans. It's the most casual anyone but Lost has ever seen me and I figure it's time Mariam saw me this way, too. We are neighbors, after all. We're on equal footing now.
     I stumble out of my closet with my pants around my ankles, trying to hurry so that Mariam won't be waiting long. Lost isn't a exactly a great conversationalist. She can be- she's certainly gotten better- but she's too forward for anyone but me to tolerate. I'm trying to teach her how to relax but it's slow going. She's too afraid of giving a wrong answer, which is practically impossible in a friendly exchange.
As I shimmy into my jeans, bouncing to get myself stuffed into the legs, I hear the softest squeak from the hall. My head snaps up, my jeans not yet covering my butt, and I see Lost staring at me through my open door. I could have sworn I closed it. How long has she been watching me?
     "Mariam..." she mumbles, her fingers twitching at her sides.
     My face burns hotter than I thought possible and I freeze, both out of embarrassment and because Lost's eyes are getting brighter. I don't want to make any sudden movements and trigger her.
     "Can you tell her I'll be there in a minute?" I ask softly. Usually when Lost is acting strange or too aggressive, if I give her something to do, she'll calm. This time, though, a terrifying growl burbles in her throat and her jaw clenches. My heart skips a beat and I gulp. Then, slapping a hand over her eyes, she spins around and slams my bedroom door shut.
     Releasing a shaky breath, I pull my jeans all the way up and button them. Lost has never done that to me before, not that intensely. She's never had to hold herself back that way before. I've never seen her so... distressed. And what was that growl? That was entirely new. Sure, she's gotten upset and growled before, but never like that. This time there was another underlying emotion causing Lost so much grief.
     Shaking the event away, I untie my hair and let the damp waves fall around my shoulders as I walk out of my room. Mariam is waiting on the couch while Lost is standing in the kitchen, her back to us and her shoulders rigid. Did the sight of me really disturb her that much? I know maybe I've gotten a little big for my jeans but...
     "You wanted to see me?" I ask, moving towards Mariam and trying to pretend I'm not offended by Lost's actions.
     Mariam stands and offers her hand formally. I shake it then motion for her to sit back down. She does when I do, then she says, "Honestly, the General had a talk with me."
     "Oh?"
     "Yes. I figured I'd do this straightforward. He wanted to know my thoughts on your situation and I'd rather talk to you about it than spy on you."
     "I appreciate that." And I do. I assumed the General would want Mariam's input, more so because she's an unbiased eye. I didn't expect her to be upfront about it, though. She has my respect. "What are you going to tell him?"
     "Well..." She glances at Lost in the kitchen, then raises her eyebrows at me.
     I nod in understanding then turn to Lost. "Hey, Lost?"
     She twitches at the sound of my voice but doesn't look to me. "Yes?"
     "Do you think you can leave Mariam and I alone for a little while?"
     "Yes. I can do that." She runs an angry hand through her hair and all but stomps to the front door. Her jaw clenches as she shows me her profile, and she clasps the door handle. "I'm sorry. I'll wait outside."
     Before I can tell her that's not necessary, Lost is already out the door. I don't like that she's alone out there with her negative emotions, but then I notice the finger indentations on the doorknob and decide to give her a minute to cool down without me. I am the source of her distress, after all.
     "Do you trust her out there alone?" Mariam asks worriedly. "She doesn't seem like she's levelheaded right now."
     "She'll be fine," I say, not entirely convinced. "So what were you going to say?"
     "Uh, right. Well, it's things like this, actually. I've noticed that Lost has been a little... skewed lately. Is everything okay?"
     I lean back into the couch and cross my legs, settling my hands in my lap. "I think so. She's been tightly wound recently but I've been getting her out more often, and it's helped. That's why I wanted more time before I gave the General my opinion. I want to see if I can find a better solution."
     "Try relaxation techniques," Mariam suggests. "That worked for Cas."
     "I'm afraid I won't get the results I'm after in the short time I have. The General is expecting an answer."
     Adjusting her glasses, Mariam hums in thought. "If you truly believe she'll get better, then tell the General to put her in the field. It can't be worse that locking her back up in the Facility."
     "And if she's asked to do something stressful?" I question. "It could make her worse. I know what they ask of you and Cas. It's not easy."
     Mariam sighs. "It's not. But there's no simple way to handle this, either. Whatever you choose is going to take a toll on Lost. In my opinion, you're going to have to decide to keep her here with you, or put her back to ground where you'll only have a small say in what happens to her." She shrugs a shoulder. "The General trusts you on this, but he has bosses to satisfy, too, and they want another field agent."
     Though I know Mariam's right, I'm still not sure what I want to tell the General. Up here I can give Lost the attention she needs, but she might go in a downward spiral with all the dark deed she may have to do in the future. Down in the Facility Lost will be subjected to who knows what else where I may not be able to protect her, but at least she'll be contained and won't be able to hurt anyone. Neither option is perfect to me but I have to decide on one. If not I'm sure someone will make the decision without me.
    "So what are you going to tell him?" I finally ask.
     Mariam smiles softly, understanding. "That you've got everything handled. I completely know what you're going through. The situation with Cas was similar."
     "How did you handle it?"
     "Gave her the green light. All Cas really needed was someone to trust. I gave her that and we've been close friends since. I know you think our relationship should be professional, but that just doesn't work up here. I hope that doesn't rub you the wrong way."
     "No, no," I mumble, thinking on it. Mariam might be right. I've been treating Lost professionally instead of like a friend. Sure, we walk and talk, but we aren't truly friends. Maybe that's what Lost needs- someone she can trust.
     Nodding resolutely, I stand. "Thanks for coming to see me. I really appreciate your honesty."
     Mariam stands, too, recognizing the end of a conversation when she sees one. "No problem. We should be friends, too, you know," she adds as she pushes her glasses further up her her nose. "We're neighbors and might need to count on each other now. Besides, us being friends might make Cas and Lost learn to count on each other as well."
     "Sure," I say, already going to the front door. I agree with Mariam but I want to check up on Lost to make sure she's okay. "We should all do something together some time."
     "Definitely."
     I open the front door and walk out, Mariam right behind me, and I look around for Lost. She's not anywhere in the hall and I start to worry.
     "I'll see if she's with Cas or Emma," Mariam tells me, leaving for her apartment.
     Nodding, I head down the hall, hoping my anxiety will bring Lost to me the way it did last time. I never thought I'd admit that I enjoy the close bond that we have through that damned collar, but here I am, hoping the bond is solid still.
     The halls of our floor are empty and Lost hasn't found me yet, so I start for the elevator, but pause when I hear giggling. There's nothing unusual about giggles, but these sound childish and aren't coming from any nearby apartments. They're coming from the stairs. I don't what makes me do it, but I tiptoe to the door leading to the stairs and eavesdrop on the giggler.
     "... never taught us that in school."
     "They wouldn't," a second voice says, and I recognize it as Lost's. But she sounds rejuvenated and no longer upset. "They don't want you to know about the rebels."
     "But how do you know?"
     "I was there. I saw them fight. They were glorious."
     "You weren't there."
     "I was! You should have seen it. Men like you standing against the bullies. Women, too. Everyone had had enough."
     "... I wish I could stand up to my bullies."
     "You can. Show them your power. Even if you lose, they'll know you're wild and will think twice before messing with you again. You've got voodoo on your tongue, boy. Spit it out."
     A childlike giggle, then a sigh. "What does that even mean?"
     There's a beat of silence before Lost asks, "What's your last name?"
     "Smith. Why?"
     "That's a tough one, very common. I knew a few Smith's in my day, but there was one... He was the son of a Nganga."
     "A Nganga?"
     "A healer. They could communicate with the Other World, too."
     "Like ghosts and stuff?"
     "Yes. If you're related to that Smith, then you have healer blood in you, too. You can channel spirits and help people, or hurt them if you'd like. You've got static in your veins, you know? You're more powerful than you know. If I were a bully, I'd be scared of you."
     "Really?"
     "Definitely. Because when slaves were brought to the Americas, Nganga's didn't go away. They adapted. They became witch doctors and voodoo masters. They brought up the dead to scare their enemies and let no one step over them."
     "I can't do that."
     "You've got the means. You're in the line. The bravery and mettle of a witch doctor is in you. I'd say there's a spark in you that needs the barest bit of fire to roar full force."
     "How do I start the fire?"
     "Only you know that."
     "... What if the fire never starts?"
     "Hm. Then maybe you can learn how to fight. Do you know how to throw a punch?"
     "Like this?"
     "Keep your wrist straight... Don't squeeze your thumb. Good. Aim for weak spots. The solar plexus, here, kidneys, here and here, between the eyes, and my favorite, the genitals."
     "You're weird, you know that?"
     "I'm aware. But that's the way I am, so there's no point in thinking too hard on it. Keep practicing your punches. I've got to go, I'm being called."
     "I don't hear anything."
     "Because she's calling me, not you. If you ever need help with your bullies, send them my way."
     "So weird. Bye."
     The door to the stairwell opens and I jump back as Lost smiles at me, unsurprised by my eavesdropping at all. "Sorry for taking so long," she says, closing the door behind her. "But you didn't seem to be in a rush."
     My face is hot from being caught but I pretend I'm fine and smile. "I, uh, I never called you."
     "You wanted me, didn't you?"
     "Yeah, but..." I shake my head and tuck my hair behind my ear. "Never mind. Who were you talking to?"
     Lost scratches just under collar and saddles up beside me when I turn to head for home. "Hakeem. The boy who lives next door. He likes to sit in the stairwell to be alone."
     "You sounded friendly."
     She smiles softly. "He's nice. A good kid, if a little misunderstood."
     We reach the apartment and I usher Lost inside then close and lock the front door. "That's good. You're making friends. You were nice to that boy." I'm just glad she didn't hurt the poor kid. It seems that talking to him did her some good, so I can't complain.
     "Are you okay?" Lost asks, peering into my face.
     I hadn't realized that I'd gone into myself, but I smile and nod. Then I cave, wanting Lost and I to be open with each other. That's what friends do, right? I don't want Lost to get upset again and go off to talk to some kid instead of me. She's all too willing to reveal her hand in the past, so who's to say she won't say something that's supposed to be kept secret?
     "Sit down," I say, motioning towards the couch. When Lost sits, I take a seat beside her and place my hands on my thighs carefully. Though I want to be open, I don't exactly want to bring up how I could barely fit into my jeans. It surely wasn't a pretty sight. "Okay, well," I start, taking a breath. "Earlier, you saw me, uh, getting dressed. Afterward you seemed really upset and I want to apologize that you had to see that."
     Cas is like that, too, not wanting to be involved in anything with the human body unless she's the one initiating it. I assume Lost has that same mindset. It's not a stretch to think so, especially with the way she reacted to me earlier.
     "I want us to be able to talk about things like this," I tell her, "So if I ever make you uncomfortable like that again, you can talk to me about it, okay?"
     Lost shifts nervously and the tension she had before Mariam came over returns to her shoulders. Her eyes fall to her lap, her hair hiding her face. "I'm sorry," she whispers.
     Scooting a bit closer, but not enough to touch her, I lean slightly towards Lost. "For what?"
     "I wasn't uncomfortable, but you were."
     My brow furrows and my lips thin. "Then... Why were you upset?"
     "Because you didn't want me to see you that way. But I... I wasn't uncomfortable."
     "Oh... Oh." I lean back, recalling once again how Mariam said that Lost has a crush on me. Suddenly Lost's growls when she saw me earlier don't seem so menacing in my memories. She wasn't upset at me, she was upset with herself for crossing some imaginary line she drew for herself. I admit I didn't want her to see me like that, but it was an accident.
     "I'm sorry," Lost whispers again, her voice breaking.
     "It's okay," I tell her. I'm only concerned with how she's reacting to all this. She's absolutely destroying herself over this one moment.
     Lost shakes her head, a tear falling into her lap. "No. You were mortified that I saw, and I... I..."
     "It's okay," I repeat. Her liking what she saw is better than her being disgusted by me. It's an ego booster, if I'm being honest with myself. "Really, it's okay. I was just embarrassed because, well, I was half naked. I'm not upset with you. It was an accident."
     Wiping her face, Lost looks up at me. "I kept watching."
     "You did," I admit, replaying the way her fingers twitched as she leered at me in my mind. She wasn't going to hurt me at all with those hands. "But that was... You were... It's..." I'm not sure. I can't tell her she was being foolish or curious; that would only downplay her emotions and make her feel ashamed. "Look, it's okay. You don't have to cry over this. I'm not mad at you, I swear."
     Lost sniffles. "Should I avoid your room from now on?"
     I'm not going to isolate Lost just because of this stupid incident. I told myself I'd try to be her friend, and she needs to be able to come to me at any time she feels necessary. "No," I finally say. "My room isn't off limits."
     With those simple words, Lost's crying spell appears to subside. She blinks at me, her cheeks blotchy red, her eyes puffy. "So I'm going to stay here with you?"
     "Ah," I chuckle dryly. "You heard Mariam and I talk, didn't you?"
     "I couldn't help it."
     "I think," I declare, coming to a decision, "that you're going to stay with me." We can work well together if we continue to be open with each other. And besides, I want to continue to figure out the strange puzzle that is Lost.