𝒃𝒖𝒕 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒘𝒐𝒍𝒇 𝒔𝒖𝒓𝒗𝒊𝒗𝒆𝒔 ➪ «𝑑𝑎𝑟𝑦𝑙 𝑑𝑖𝑥𝑜𝑛»

ch. XLVII pt. II

(I noticed the views on parts 1 and 2 are sometimes uneven, so if you're here and haven't read the first half yet, read that first lmao)

oOo

Alice observed Diana's expression change from one of pure confusion to realization to existential confusion. She could relate.

She had known something hadn't been right as soon as Diana-but-not-really had looked at her and Daryl; her facial expressions had seemed foreign on her face. Like someone had pulled her sister's face on as a mask. It had made Alice's skin crawl, and she'd had the strongest impulse to slap her.

Then she'd started talking, and the voice hadn't been Diana's as well like a ventriloquist had been using her as a puppet. Repulsion had filled her veins, but Alice had stayed rooted.

She had said she couldn't believe it had worked – what had worked? Demonic possession? With the blood running down her mouth and staining her teeth red, it had certainly looked like it – and then she had turned to them and said that she didn't have long and they needed to tell Diana what Alice had just told her.

Alice's first thought had been dissociative identity disorder, but then she remembered everything that Diana had told her and Felix at the CDC, and everything Alice had read on her journal-thingy.

"It's the dream-chick," Alice thought out loud, catching both their attention. Felix moaned pitifully behind Diana, distracting them from her words.

Once Diana adjusted his pillow and whispered something to him with a caress to his cheek, she faced them again.

"Who's the dream-chick?" Daryl asked.

"You're gonna think I'm crazy..." Diana hesitated, fidgeting with her fingers on her lap.

Alice didn't miss Daryl's hand slipping into hers, stopping her nervous tick. Seeing them like that, him on his knees at her feet, their eyes glued to each other as he comforted her wordlessly, it made bile rise on Alice's throat.

Okay, not them specifically, rather any and all disgustingly sweet displays of affection were disgustingly nauseating to her.

Some time back, her cat-like curiosity had caused her to accidentally read some journal entries that featured Daryl.

...

She had seriously considered scooping her eyes out with a spoon.

"She's been having some weird-ass realistic dreams about this girl, who I guess is called Minerva?" Alice supplemented, seeing as Diana was taking so long. "It's that simple."

"Not really, it ain't. If these were damn dreams, how was that girl here, in your sister's body?"

"I was in hers, too," Diana said quietly, staring unblinkingly straight ahead at the blank wall.

Alice raised a brow. "Oh, worm?"

"Yeah, I- I mean, I blink and then I'm no longer black? I noticed straight away something ain't right there, you know?" Diana said with a hint of her old humor. "And my hair was different and everything just felt like I didn't belong. I was in this stinky abandoned place with wooden floors and walls, and the windows were boarded up. And she had a staff..." Her voice turned pensive.

"A staff?" Daryl questioned.

"Yeah... A golden staff, the same as my bow. Little bit different but kinda the same. And then it turned into a spear in my hands, like for real, it just grew a pointy end like I flipped a switch."

"That means there are more people like you out there. Wow." Alice crossed her arms in disappointment and near envy. "Is it like a lottery thing? Like a big cosmic lottery and you just happened to pull the lucky string?" Diana's baffled frown had Alice shrugging loosely. "Don't look at me, I dunno how the cosmic lottery works."