Yesterday's Tomorrow People

Reflections

As the car swung around the back of the house, Jed struggled to the door. He held John's arm over his shoulder. He walked pulling John's weight. John moved his feet along with Jed.

John looked down where he thought he was shot. No blood. No wound. He didn't understand. He was in the large room, and then, he wasn't. John's vision blurred for a few seconds. He looked at Jed. He face wasn't blurred like those in the room.

"Ugh," John said quietly. They had reached the house. Jed led them through to the back to his wing of the house. John tripped a little on a rug's corner on the way. They followed the short hallway and turned left into a room.

The room was small but bright with a high, long window on the back wall. There was a table in the center of the room. Two chairs were on the right wall. A cabinet series extended from the door to the left wall. Under the window was the Ultra symbol framed. In fact, the room looked like a veterinarian clinic room.

Jed led John to the table. John sat up on the table.

John moved a little. He left the room pull him this way and that. The room still moved when he grabbed the table's edge for balance.

Jed was busy digging around in the cabinets. John's breathing was shaky. He looked around to see the room better. He saw that the chairs in front of him were metal and straight. He saw the same metal also made the table he sat on. He turned to the annoying light source. The window had blinds, but they were pulled up and only dangled a bit. John shut his eyes since the light caused pain in his head.

This is too much, he thought. I'm fine, and I can take care of myself. I'm just tired.

John turned his head to the door. Jed had a small pile on top of the counter. An I.V., other rather large needles, and different supplies. He seemed preoccupied.

John slowly slid off the table. When the weight of his body hit his feet, his legs gave out. However, he caught himself silently on the overhang of the table. Woozy, John stood straight and continued to hold on to the table.

Jed turned to look at the table. He eyes grew somewhat big. "John, what are you doing?" he asked calmly, but aggravated. "Sit down."

John looked down when Jed spoke. When the short demand was finished, he looked to the door again. Jed grabbed the supplies off the counter of the cabinets. John slowly sat back on the table. Relief rushed to his legs and feet. Jed had been getting the medical supplies ready.

"Hey," John began, "I'm fine, really. I'm just tired. Nothing's wrong."

"What is your deal, John Young?" Jed said, slightly chuckling. "Even when you were a kid, you pushed yourself so hard. You still do that today. Even years ago, when you volunteered for the new ability, you wanted to push yourself, and you did. Look, you're not in that foster home where you had to be tough and strong for the other boys. I took you from there so you wouldn't have to grow up so fast. I guess I failed there. You not only pushed yourself; I pushed you as well. Just take time to actually care about yourself for once."

John kept his eyes down. He felt like a child being scolded for doing wrong. He breathed in and out quietly. John held out his arm.

Jed began the I.V. Jed continued to do other things John didn't quiet understand with the medical supplies. Soon, John had three needles coming out of his arms. He blinked a few times as thirty seconds passed, and he was gone.

--

John woke with the need for the relief. The liquids pumping continuously into his arm made his stomach turn. A pain killer, he thought. His damp shirt pressed onto the cool metallic table. He found himself somewhat chilly.

Glancing to his left he saw the window. Slowly he turned his head to the right. The motion sloshed his head. He closed his eyes swimming behind them. The feeling slowed and eventually stopped. John opened his eyes with difficulty. The door stood ajar. The temptation to just get up and leave was strong. However, his legs wouldn't cooperate. An extra-strength pain killer, he chuckled.

He pushed up to sit up. The world slanted and tilted. The urge to go to the restroom grew. John glanced at his feet still in his shoes. His stained and rugged boots that were always half-tied. They were worn-down by a couple of years of wear-and-tear. He scooted slowly down the top of the table to the end. His feet now dangled flimsily. His head swirled a little this time. The only reason he kept pushing to stand up was to hopefully make it to the restroom. Putting his faith in his numb legs, dropped from the tabletop. John wobbled feeling gravity take full affect. Small steps, John, he heard, not sure if that was his own head talking.

Small step-by-step he moved around the table to get the door leading into the hallway. About six small steps later, he felt a resistance to his advancement. John felt tension from his arms. The tubes pumping fluids were evidently still attached to his arms.

Without hesitation, John yanked the first and second tubes from his arms. He walked shakily to the door. Grasping the door frame for support, he looked down and let out a huff or two to catch his breath. Looking up into the hallway, the house was dark but naturally lit. It was still daytime. He looked left; there were the closed doors to Jed's room and office next to each other. The hall bathroom was to the right across the hallway. Taking a large breath, John pushed lightly against the door frame. He started to have feeling in his legs again. He trusted his feet again. He walked with more confidence than a few minutes before.

He reached the doorway for the bathroom. A rush of relief cause him to move more quickly and deliberately to the toilet. John closed the door shut behind him. The room light detected motion and turned on. He stood before the toilet and relieved his bladder.

--

John washed his hands. Only then, did he notice the blood coming fro the back of his hand. The  bright hanging hand towel would suffice. He pressed it against the wound as he sat on the closed toilet. He glanced down at the small opening on his hand. Good pain killers, he chuckled in his mind. The blood has stopped, and his hand was not too bloody anymore.

The towel, on the other hand, was quite messy. The contrast of the dark blood to the light, pale towel was great. He didn't feel woozy but more like his was falling. John wasn't one to be faint at the sight of blood. This feeling caught him off guard. He stared back up at the mirror. His reflection showing a young man holding a bloody cloth. He looked down but was drawn to look up again.

The scene had changed. Flashes from a subway train to a large banquet-like room separated by a scream from a young woman. Next, a flash to a staircase with the screaming girl in his arms. Her face unclear and smudged. A last flash ended in him falling to the floor. He didn't feel himself falling or land on the ground. The girl gasped and panted, clearly terrified. She pointed to him. He was confused, but he looked down. A blood blotch grew from his side. No pain. No anything. Just confusion, yet again.

John was in the small hallway bathroom again. The empty never-used bath tub was to the right of him. The vanity stood in front of him with the mirror glaring into him.

The young girl flickered quickly in the reflection then vanished. As she appeared she looked as if she was saying something. It vanished but not before John understood what was being said.

A name.

A beautiful name. A name that brought warmth to John for a reason he did not know.

Astrid.