Far Beyond, Far Below

Ch. XIII ''Don't you remember me?''

The early evening sun bathed the room in a warm, tangerine glow, casting long shadows across the tile floor. Henry sat on a low cushioned stool brought up by Jessica's bedside, his chin nestled between the palms of his hands. His eyes were gently fixed on his younger sister, and although it brought him tremendous, overwhelming joy to see her again, a dark cloud loomed over his heart, weighing it down in his chest. Henry struggled to define the feeling. It was uncomfortable, almost unbearable. It was loss.

How much time had passed since then? How many years had it been since he was spirited away from his old world, from everything and everyone he had ever known? He had a rough idea, but the exact date had long since slipped his mind. Now he wracked his brain, wishing he had paid more attention in the early days.

How long ago was that night? Henry shut his eyes and shuddered. His muscles tensed ever so slightly as he leaned farther forward over his lap, his bony elbows digging further into his thighs. He rubbed his eyes. He did not want to think about that night, that horrible, horrible night.

At least his worst fear had been proven false; at least she had lived. She was here, right here before his eyes, and she was going to wake up soon, any minute now.

Henry let out a long, heavy sigh, sitting back up to a degree, releasing the strain from his hunched shoulders and lower back. It was at this moment that Charles looked up from where he sat on the other bed, his head propped in the palm of his hand, the other hand resting idly in front of his crisscrossed legs. His gaze lingered on the Henry for a moment. Casting a quick glance in Jessica's direction, he let his attention drop to the space directly in front of him on the bed. He resumed with loose interest his study of the few wrinkles and creases in the neatly tucked sheet. He took a deep, bored breath in and let it out quietly.

Henry's attention never left his sister. He thought again about time, and how much had been lost between the two of them. He studied her adolescent face in the evening light. Gone was the soft chubby roundness of her features, the unblemished surface of her skin. She had grown up in her face, sparingly pimpled and lightly freckled, but what were most notable were the large and very dark circles under her eyes. Gone was her untroubled expression, the peacefulness in her sleep.

A lot had changed, he decided, since he had gone away all those years ago. And how much had he changed in that time? It had never occurred to him to question it before.

Lost in his thoughts, Henry almost didn't realise when Jessica's eyes slowly began to flutter. It took him only a second to notice, and when he did, he sat straight up and stood so fast he sent the stool he had been sitting on skidding backwards, the wooden legs making a tight screek! against the floor.

Charles looked up with a start in the direction of the sound and, upon catching sight of Henry, turned his attention immediately to Jessica, who was just beginning to push herself into a sitting position.

Though tired, she definitely didn't feel as groggy as the last time she had awoken. This time, the magical oils had been allowed to do their work, leaving Jessica with only a mild headache, and even that was barely noticeable to her.

"Jessica!" Charles said happily, sliding off his own bed and coming around to hers.

"...Mhm?" murmured Jessica, rubbing her bleary eyes. Charles stood there with his hands in his pockets, an awkward but genuine smile on his face. Jessica returned the smile, albeit a little confusedly. Her surroundings were still unfamiliar to her, her whereabouts still unknown. Her gaze drifted to the tallish young man standing next to Charles and, noticing that he was staring at her, her usual shyness suddenly took charge of her. She averted her gaze back to Charles and gave him an imploring look. Before Charles could figure out what she meant, Henry took a tentative step towards the bed and sat down facing her. She flinched, wishing she had the courage to move just a tiny bit away from him.

"Hey Jessie-Girl," he said softly. Jessica leant away from him as subtly as she could, not wanting to hurt the stranger's feelings but still not entirely comfortable with him being so close, acting as though he knew her.

How did he know her name? She reasoned in her mind that Charles must have told him. But why 'Jessie-Girl'? Who used to call her that? The only person she could remember was her father, but he tended to call her 'his sweetness' more than anything else. So why did this feel so strangely familiar? There was something on the edge of her mind that she just couldn't grasp. It was an annoying feeling, so Jessica endeavoured not to pursue it any further and ignore it. Not an easy thing to do, but when the young man began to speak again, her strenuous thoughts were quickly buried by the renewed effort to comprehend his words.

"How are you? Gosh, you sure have grown up. And your hair! It's so long now, and dark too!" Jessica instinctively brought a hand to her dark brown hair, knotted and in disarray from all that had happened in the last few hours. Had it been hours? Jessica wasn't sure. She smoothed some of her hair down over her shoulder in a self-conscious manner, unsure of how to respond. She kept her eyes glanced downwards, deciding that instead of meeting the stranger's face, she would stare right past him at nothing in particular, not even the massive, arched and open window behind him. Not that she would have seen much out of it anyway, the glow of the evening sun being so bright that it obscured whatever scenery was out there.

Charles felt out of place in this family reunion, so he took a little step back and preoccupied himself with nursing his ever-throbbing left shoulder. His reaction to finding out Henry was alive had been a little overdramatic, he would eventually admit, but he had wondered how it would affect Jessica. He had assumed she would be happy, overjoyed, ecstatic to learn that her long-lost brother was indeed only lost and very much alive – as the boy himself had to repeatedly assure Charles. They were siblings, after all. But Jessica didn't seem to even recognise her brother. If anything, she seemed a little afraid of him.

Jessica's discomfort had not been lost on Henry, and he couldn't help but be a little pained by it, and a little confused.

It's almost as if...

"Jess," Henry began in a questioning tone. Jessica looked back at his face, worried. Worried about what this stranger might ask, and whether she'd be able to answer.

Although he was afraid of the one answer that would hurt him the most, Henry continued with a hopeful, almost desperate smile.

"Jessica, don't you remember me? It's me, Henry! Your brother?"