Butterflies Volume II

Chapter 38

4 months prior

Papers sprawled out around her, Violet took deep breaths, eyes closed. She had cleared their living room, teleporting their furniture away to grant her more space. And sat cross-legged on the floor, she found herself reaching out. She let everything purple course through her, glowing behind their shields. Her hands strained, reaching out, twisting around the air in search of anything, anything at all that could help. She had read paper after paper, research documents and experiments, anything that could give her a clue.

In her liminal space she imagined the purple abyss she once stood in at the facility. She imagined the purple fog that surrounded her, and the endless void she found comfort in. And she reached out, desperately searching, hoping for anything. She took deep breaths, eyes moving under her eyelids. And the room followed her lead, lights dimming purple and the outside sky fading lilac. Everything changed in her image, feeding off her power as she begged for something.

Anything.

Give me something.

But it was hopeless, she found nothing. She couldn't picture it, not in the hundreds of realities she reached out to. Cursing, her hands flew to her face, soothing her frustrations. And everything faded back to its same technicolour, no longer bearing the comfort she needed. What was the use of her powers if she couldn't use it? Was it useless when the universe already was working against her? Was this her punishment the same as Billy's diagnosis?

She felt herself shift as Billy came and crouched beside her, pulling her into him, "it's all right, the doc said there's not-"

"There are infinite realities out there... There has to be a cure in one of them," she bit back, leaning back to look at him.

"It's been two months, you've found nothing."

She scoffed, pushing herself away from him and standing up. She dug her fingers into the side of her head, fighting her growing headache. She had gotten used to the fight, the ache after pushing and pushing for what she wanted. Perhaps it was a sign, that she couldn't do it, but then what was the use of all her searching? Or her research. Billy had already given up, he had given up the day he got the diagnosis. Why should she? That wasn't fair.

Facing away from him, she began picking up papers, "I can't give up. There's a cure somewhere."

He watched her, and then followed her lead, picking up the papers with her. Amongst typed words and tables were her own scribbles, trying to understand science much grander than her brain could understand. And it ate at her, all the knowledge she couldn't quite log away. She hardly slept, far more interested in what new experimental cure they could find. And they tried them all.

A few weeks ago they thought they had a cure. They had tried liquids, they had tried pills, anything. And they almost had it. They sat Billy down, they took the pills, and waited, and waited, and waited. But after a few days he threw up, and the parasite fought them back. They could have cured cancer with how desperately Violet researched. But with every wall they hit, she still believed they had a chance.

Dumping his collected papers to one side, Billy walked behind her. He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her into his chest. Although she was frustrated, and she tensed against him, she didn't push or phase through him. He nestled his cheek against the side of her head, but she didn't react. Her brain was still working, and she glanced down at the papers in her hands, days crossed off. Fail after fail. When she would reach out, her hand would sift through like a filing cabinet, searching through realities. And each time, nothing.

"It's all right, it's all right," he murmured in her ear.

"Fuck you," she scoffed, cracking a smile.