The Star Fallen

Chapter 2 - The White Room

I opened my eyes, only to close them again. Everything was so bright. I tried to open my eyes again and nearly cried out in pain, instinctively closing my eyes again. "James?" I called out, hoping he'd be near. I heard rustling next to me, and a hand slid into mine.

"I'm here, Love," I heard James say. I'd recognize his voice anywhere. I squeezed his hand.

"The lights, they're too bright," I said. James stood up, gently releasing my hand. He leaned over me and brushed my hair out of my face before kissing me on the forehead.

"I'll turn them off," James said. I heard him moving further away. There was a click before I heard him walking back beside where I was lying. I tried opening my eyes again; the lights were off. I could see James sitting next to me. He had stitched up the gash on his forehead; his black hair was caked with dried blood. His green eyes, radiant, even in the dark.

"Where are we?" I said as I looked around. On my right side was one of those machines that track heartbeats and a pole, hung with IV drip bags.

"We're at my father's compound. Do you not remember what happened?" James replied, taking my hand into his again. I shook my head. My memory was fuzzy. "Grayson, the bus. Do you remember that?" James asked me.

"We were on our way home, and..." I trailed off. I couldn't remember what had happened.

"The bus crashed. You were hurt really bad," James said, a frown tugged at the edges of his smile. I looked down at myself, inspecting for damage. I saw nothing. I had felt fine. Other than that, my head was killing me.

"I don't see anything wrong," I said bluntly. James nodded absently.

"My... friend, Jefferson, he helped you," James said, kissing the back of my hand. I nodded. I was starting to remember this "Jefferson", person. I knew what he looked like: skin like chocolate, green eyes, young, but with the composer of someone much older than himself.

"I remember him..." I said. I closed my eyes as a sharp pain shot through my head like a bullet. I saw images: Jefferson's hands on my stomach; James holding onto me as if life itself hung in the balance: heat, pain. The last thing that flashed by was a third-person view of me, skewered straight through the middle by a jagged piece of metal. I jolted up in the bed, panting. "James! I remember!" I shouted. There was no response. I looked around, James was nowhere to be found.

I'd only had my eyes closed for a second. Right? I took a deep breath; maybe it was a dream. I reached my hands down to my stomach and ran my hands over it; there was nothing. I imagined things. "James?" I called out again. Still no answer. I threw the blanket covering me to the side and dangled my feet over the floor. I was wearing a hospital gown, but it was different than any I had seen before. It was black, my favorite color. Black wasn't a normal color for hospital gowns; my limited experience could prove that. "James?" I tried again, still nothing. I sighed as I scooted to the edge of the bed. My feet were finally on the ground. I stood up slowly, testing my weight on my legs. I grabbed ahold of the IV pole; I'd have to take it with me. I knew I shouldn't disconnect myself. I pulled the heart rate monitor clip off of my finger; the machine began to squeal. Three men in lab coats burst through the door, scaring me.

"Why'd you get up? We thought you were crashing, " one of the men said.

"I was looking for James. I'm sorry I frightened you," I said.

"Major General Chambers will be back soon. He just went to eat." one of the other men said.

"Which one of you is in charge?" I asked. The man that hadn't spoken yet stepped forward.

"That would be me, sir, Dr. William Carter. At your service," the man said. Dr. Carter had an accent like James, but it was more Americanized than James'.

"Okay, Doctor. What did he mean by Major General Chambers? I've known James Chambers for over a year; no one has ever referred to him in that way." I was confused. James wasn't a general of any kind. It was impossible.

"That is for him to explain, sir. The Major General will be back soon, and I'm sure he'll explain. Now, you need to lie back down." Dr. Carter said. I then felt dizziness suddenly rush over me. I nodded and scooted back onto the bed, covering myself up again. The men left. I stared at the ceiling, thinking. James couldn't possibly be what they were saying. He's never told me anything about it. Just as I was pondering getting up again, I heard rustling in the hallway. I could hear James' muted voice drifting in from the hallway.

"You idiot! Why did you say anything? Now he's going to be mad at me... Downstairs, now! I'll let the General deal with you," James' was saying angrily to someone in the hallway. James sheepishly poked his head into the room. I stared at him, clearly angry. He walked gingerly into the room and carefully sat down next to the bed. He hated it when I was mad at him. "I know that you're probably confused and want to know what's going on. This place," James motioned around him, "is my father's compound. You and I met by chance, but he's been looking for you for a long time. When I was younger, he would tell me stories of this little boy with unimaginable powers, but he didn't know about them. The day he was born, five people in the same hospital with chronic illnesses were miraculously cured. One of the people was my little sister, Natalia. No one could figure it out. By the time my father did, the little boy had disappeared. When I met you, I had no idea it was you, I swear. The more I told my father about you, the more he realized. He told me to keep an eye on you and to call him immediately if anything suspicious happened. I know you probably don't believe me, but it's true. You're the reason I only have a minor gash from the crash. The place where I was sitting was completely crushed. If you hadn't acted on instinct, I would be dead...." James was rambling. I stopped him by taking his hand into mine.

I said, "James, I'm not mad you didn't tell me. I never asked about your past. But, what do you mean I saved you? I didn't do anything." I was even more confused than before. I didn't have powers. There was nothing special about me.

"At the moment of impact, I was yanked from the bus by some unseen force. I tumbled a bit when I hit the ground, but clearly, I was fine," James said.

"James, magic doesn't exist. This is insane," I was in complete denial.

"Do you remember what happened to you during the crash?" James asked me.

"A little bit, I guess. I got some flashes earlier but, it wasn't from my eyes. It was an outside view. It was rather strange," I replied, convinced what I'd seen was a dream.

"What did you see?" James asked.

"I saw myself impaled. But that's impossible. There are no marks now." I said, looking down at myself again. James placed his hand on my stomach and closed his eyes. An image flashed through my head. Jefferson, his hands were pure heat and light. Sweat was beaded on his brow. James was cradling me, pulling me up off of the jagged metal. The image faded. I looked at James wide-eyed. James did it. I knew he did. James had shown me his memories. I threw my arms around him. This was real. This was happening, and I had been none the wiser for years. Magic was real, and apparently, I was part of this. "Okay, James. I believe you, now what?" I said.

"Now, we wait. My father is on his way." James whispered into my ear.