[Hiya again! More Keith point of view again. Just so you can know some of their conversation, that time with the grey room-but-not-a-room-actually. Yeah. ^_^. Got a bit of writer's block so I'm having trouble with the part after this so don't expect it any time soon. Happy Reading! ^_^]
He spent the next few weeks like that. Avoiding the memories. But everything he did reminded him of home, of everything he was missing. Occasionally, he thought of Maggie, just to check up on her, but didn't go any further. He just wanted to know she was safe. More often than not, Maggie was with Belinda, and they were smiling together, the way friends do. It made him glad to know she was happier, content even.
And once, he had been thinking of Maggie, watching her and he had felt the draw of her. He could feel the warmth she radiated, and he couldn't help but go to her. He knew it was wrong but he wouldn't become visible. It wasn't unreasonable to want to see her, was it? Surely he hadn't messed up so badly that he couldn't look at her, had he?
Even as he was trying to justify it, he was drifting into the room she slept in. Her eyes were drifting closed and she sighed. It sounded almost...longing, her brow knitting together as her mind barrelling down a new train of thought. He wished he could know what she was thinking about, just so he could know whether it was him she missed. He sat next to her, an arm on either side. For balance, he told himself.
But he couldn't explain why he lay down next to her, burying his head in her neck. That was purely because he wanted her, with an intensity that burned almost as brightly as she did. He could tell when she started crying - softly, not great big sobs, like last time - and he tried to press her closer to him, trying to smother those tears. He could tell she was drifting to sleep, that the tears were slowing, stopping.
Even as he pulled away from her, he could feel something wrong with her. She was heating up more than she should, even if she was like a flame to him. It felt all wrong to him, as though she really did have a flame inside of her, burning her from the inside out. And that worry for her was all he needed to keep him there with her. He could see her tossing and turning, all night, the occasional shiver passing through her.
When she tried to make her way out of the room in the morning, he almost had a heart attack. She was swaying all over the place, her small body in so much danger of damage. He was more afraid for her when she lay down on the sofa, her breath coming faster, in pained gasps. He was so desperate to talk to her, desperate to hear her voice...
And the next moment, he was sitting in a grey- it wasn't a room. It was much to vast to be a room. But Belinda was there, lying down, looking at him. He heard something catch in her throat and it took everything he had not to leap on her. His arms twitched towards her though, and she was trying to choke past whatever was in her throat. He could feel his body melting at her heat, his face softening. He wanted to hold her so badly, touch her, know she was really there, with him.
"Belinda," he whispered in a voice that made it sound like a prayer to him. His hands were moving on their own, wanting to pull her nearer. But apparently he could only talk to her - his hands went straight through that frail and ill body. He immediately pulled them away, not wanting to make her scream again. Even so, she was crying, soft whimpers as she curled into a tiny ball.
It was killing him, not being able to hold her, comfort her. She needed him and he was next to useless, not even able to give her a shoulder to cry on. And then she was trying to smile at him, the corners of her mouth making her look relieved. He leaned toward her then, not touching her, but close enough that had they both been solid, would have sent electricity shooting down his body.
"Belinda, I don't know how long this will last. We have a lot to talk about and-"
"Keith, where the hell are you?!?" Belinda interrupted, her voice high and afraid. "What's going on? Why aren't you coming back?"
"Belinda, I would be there if I could, I swear. I- look, I'm stuck where I sent Andrew. I think he's here too but I need you to get someone to send help. Talk to Maggie and my mum, let them know I'm okay and then get mum to send help. It's way important that you do this Belinda."
"Can't I come and get you? It can't be that difficult to-"
"NO!!!" he roared, making her jump. He felt so angry, so scared, that he couldn't help but yell at her. It was imperative that she never see this world, never enter such a desolate place - never see what he was suffering through. A silence stretched between them, awkward and charged.
"So...you're not- not dead, are you?" Belinda said in a small voice, changing the subject. The anguish was so evident, so real that it was almost palpable. He had to stop his hand from pulling her to him. He knew it wouldn't work and yet...his hand wanted to touch that soft skin, feel her shiver under his touch. He wanted to crush her mouth to his, taste her and-
"Of course I'm not dead!" he said roughly, not letting his mind wander down such dangerous avenues with no sort of outlet. Even as he tried not to, he could tell he was going anyway. The thought of kissing her, yielding to what he wanted...
"Oh, thank God," she sobbed, leaning back again. He could see the colour returning to her cheeks, the sheen of a cold sweat leaving. It was such a relief to see her looking better. Was this what was bothering her? Was it because she thought he was dead?
"Listen, I was reading this diary I found," Belinda began, telling him everything she had read. Slowly, she began to explain that she thought it was one of his ancestors and she saw him raise an eyebrow. She blushed but barrelled on, to explain the mini vision that she thought might have been someone else's.
"Okay, well visions sound like Maggie. And if it was about something bad and you were being warned, I would definitely say Maggie. The diary...Well, if you don't have a name, I can't be sure. But the name Joseph sounds familiar. So, probably."
"So...you're a Wiccan?"
"Yeah, I am. Why, does that weird you out?"
"Nah, it actually sort of makes sense. I just wasn't sure how I could ask anyone. I mean, Maggie didn't tell me when she had that vision, or why she sent it to me. It's confusing and I don't really want to think about it. But...I miss you Keith. Why can't you get back? If you're Wiccan-"
"Being Wiccan means nothing if you don't have the spell. And I'm a little short on the ingredients too. But if someone could get over here and take me back, I would be very happy to come back."
Too soon, Belinda was fading away, going in and out of focus. Keith couldn't keep the place together. He had to say goodbye and that hurt worse than the first time he had been forced to leave. Belinda looked like she knew what was happening, her eyes sad and round. He wished - desperately - that he could just touch her, let her know he was missing her. It just wasn't something he could say.
And then everything dissolved, the grey world disappearing, leaving him alone in the genies' world.
