UPRISE

030

Edison locked the door, but there hasn't been any banging to come after him. Instead, he sits on his desk chair, staring at Noah, who is curled up under the sheets of his bed. He is certain that in the time the Blues, Reds, and Clears have been staying there (as he found out from Thatcher and Connery, it's been two days), they've managed to figure out how to find his room with ease.

"I have a few questions for you," Noah begins, pulling himself into a sitting position. He winces, holding his ribs as he does. Nothing hurts enough that he would consider going to the hospital. Noah has undergone worse that hasn't been treated before.

"I don't have answers," Edison admits. Noah notices that his posture is impeccable. One knee is draped over the other, and Edison's hands are folded in his lap. When he speaks, he doesn't move.

That answer doesn't satisfy Noah. "Well, you had better come up with some fast, before Corbin comes and kills you."

At that, Noah reaches into the nightstand. He pulls out a book, thick with pages. "Do you know Corbin's number? Or his last name?"

"What?" Noah asks, staring at the book in Edison's hands. It's a paperback, too wide to be any regular novel. "What is that?"

Edison rolls his eyes and puts the book at his feet. "Forget about it."

Now, Noah can feel himself really begin to boil over. He turns to move his feet over the edge, but there is a pain in his ankle that he can't shake away. His hands curl into fists full of sheets, as he groans. "What the Hell, Edison Darby. What the Hell."

"What?"

"What?" Noah echoes, turning to face him. He pokes his swelling eye. "Look at me! Look at my friends! Why won't you just give me a straight answer?"

Edison stands up and clasps his hands behind his back. He paces as Noah speaks, and waits for the boy to stop stuttering out an answer. "You're blaming me because you don't want to blame yourself."

"You're... you're not serious, are you?"

"You broke my rule," Edison tells him. "There was another Gold in the forest who overheard you guys planning to come meet me, and he told Thatcher. Look at my face. They beat me too. Then, you break into my house, take my things, and come search for me. I didn't ask for this."

"You asked for my help." Noah insists.

"No, I asked for help and thought that maybe you could keep me safe," Edison comes to a standstill. "I was hurt because of you."

Noah shakes his head back and forth, because it can't be his fault. Not really. Right?

"Edison, I'm sorry," Noah answers, raising his hand up to Edison. "I just... I didn't realize that. Okay? Sorry, it's just hard to help when you keep me in the dark."

Edison sits on the edge of the bed. He answers Noah by taking his hand. Both of their fingers are like skeletons reaching out of graves: cold, thin, but desperately clinging to one another. "It's okay. Just, be careful. You guys don't know who you are messing with."

~~~

In the games room, Reagan sits curled up with his favourite book. The only thing that has ever really been able to keep the thoughts at bay are the words of Joy Coleman.

She intentionally tries to breathe in-sync with him, as if somehow she can give him her oxygen.

Reagan wants to be a part of something bigger than him. He wants to feel connected to the universe, rather than a simple figure rattling through it. He feels worse than dust in the wind; he feels like a bowling pin. Every time that he tries to peel himself off the ground, he is pushed down once more. And once more. And once more.