The Chaos Walker

The β Storm

Regis felt a hand under his neck. It barely registered against the torrent of pain signals sluicing through his body. It was the only thing he was feeling that wasn't pure agony and he latched on to it. Slender fingers gently but firmly put upward pressure on the base of his skull, tilting his head back. Just that tiny impulse was enough to unblock his trachea and open the flood gates to the fluid in his lungs. That wonderful hand continued to hold his airway open through the spasms while his diaphragm worked to expel everything in his lungs. The sensations of wind and rain started to intrude on his awareness as alveoli gained access to oxygen and shipped it to his brain.

"How can that feel so amazing and so terrible at the same time?"

Eyelids finally received the request to open. His eyes were immediately blasted by wind driven rain but he could still see the face of his saviour. The soggy strip of rose gold hanging in front of one eye had never looked so alluring, not even in the shower just a few hours before.

"Thank God! You're still alive." Her hazel eyes searched his as if willing consciousness to return.

He looked at her, the pain in his chest almost unbearable. "I thought... I thought I could get back," he said, his voice breaking.

She pulled him into her shoulder and hugged him gingerly while whispering him to silence. They struggled to stand up together, diagonal sheets of falling water buffeting them. Together, they made their way back to the house, the storm raging around them. As they stepped inside, the warmth and light of the house embraced them. Sarah wrapped a blanket around his shoulders, her touch gentle and reassuring. "You're soaked," she murmured, her concern palpable. "Let's get you warmed up."

As she tended to him, Regis couldn't help but notice the tenderness in her actions, the genuine care in her eyes. It made his heart ache, the guilt and confusion swirling within him. The same eyes that he had woken up to for the last two years, the same hands, but not the same Sarah.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, more to himself than to her.

She paused, looking at him with a mixture of sorrow and understanding. "Regis, I don't know what's going on with you, but I want to help. Please, let me help."

Regis felt a surge of emotions, an overwhelming mix of guilt, affection, and helplessness. He wanted to push her away, to protect himself from the feelings he didn't want to acknowledge. But he also couldn't deny the comfort her presence brought him.

He sighed, the weight of his conflicting emotions pressing down on him. "I don't know if I can do this," he admitted, his voice barely audible.

Sarah-ß gently cupped his face, forcing him to meet her gaze. "You're not alone, Regis.

Over her shoulder, outside the window, lightning flashed.

"Where are Max and Ellie?"

She waved vaguely toward the back of the house. "I sent them back to their room with Toby and told them to wait until we got back."

He chewed absentmindedly on his lower lip and looked around the room at nothing at all. Lightning flashed again and he thought he saw something in the afterglow it left in his vision.

Sarah turned to see what had caught his attention.

"There!" he pointed to a spot just to the left of the right edge of the floor to ceiling windows. "Do you see that?"

"What, babe? I don't see anything. Just darkness." She turned back and scanned his eyes for any sign of concussion or oxygen deprivation. "What did you see?"

He meant to just shake his head once, as if to say 'Forget it. It was nothing' but his head refused to stop. An image of one of those ridiculous figures with oversize heads flashed to mind, it's features swaying mindlessly back and forth.