116Disclaimer: The only parts of this whacked out story idea I own are the original characters and the crazy ass plot. The "Heralds of Valdemar" series and premise are the wonderful brain children of Mercedes Lackey.
A/N: Hello again, everybody! Sugoichicken is back with the first chapter of the promised sequel! I know I told those of you who left a review to the final chapter of my other story that it would probably be next month before I got this up, but I'm guessing from what I've heard you won't kill me for getting this up early. Unfortunately I can't guarantee constant updates since I still have my school work to do (and yes, I am working on it), but I'll be working on this in the little bit of spare time I'll have as a way to keep sane. Last thing I want to say is please, please, please bear with me on the plot for this one. It's gonna be quite a bit different than its sister, but I hope you all still like it as much. And as before, please remember to leave a review at the end so I know if I need to just chuck this out the window.
NOTICE: If you haven't read my other story, Reality Check: Not What I Had Planned, then this will make absolutely no sense. If you're interested in this one then go back and read the predecessor. Don't say I didn't warn you...
Do-over, restart, try again. When something goes wrong in a children's game the chances are pretty good one of those three phases will be heard. They're words of welcome when the matter is inconsequential; it's too bad they don't carry much merit when applied to real life. But every now and again adults do get a second chance at something, be it a relationship, a job offer, or righting a wrong action or word. And those second chances have the ability to change lives for the better or worse. Yet when a second chance demands a choice between your head and your heart, which do you choose? It's not a decision you make lightly.
Ch. 1: Semblance of Normalcy
Beep, beep, beep, beep, beep, CRASH!
"CAT!"
"Mew?"
Ugh, I hate mornings. "Why do you always have to pounce my alarm clock?" I asked the fluffy black and white ball of two-month old fur as he hopped from my side table to my bed. He nudged my hand, indicating he wanted his ears scratched and I obliged, thus turning Punky into a small motor. He may have been just a kitten, but he made up for his current lack of size when it came to getting into trouble and purring.
My bedroom door opened a crack and the black-haired head of my best friend and roommate, Shannon, was poked inside. "I don't know why you bother to set your alarm if you don't want Seymour knocking it over every time it goes off," she said.
I stopped petting Punky and glared at her. "Will you stop callin' my cat Seymour? You're gonna confuse the poor guy."
"It suits him better than what you named him," Shannon shot back accusingly as she walked over and sat on the mattress. I sat up gingerly, wincing slightly from the lingering pain in my back and picked up my cat.
"You don't look like a Seymour to me," I stated fondly as I looked at his adorable little face. "I think your name suits you just perfectly."
Shannon scoffed and rolled her eyes. "What kind of name is 'Punk-Ass Cat' for a kitten?"
"All the more reason I call him 'Punky'. It's cute, suitable for his age and personality, and when he's all growed up I can start callin' him PAC-man," I stated matter of factly, as if the reasons were obvious. Well, they were to me.
"Well, I still think you look like a Seymour, even if your new mom says that's a name for turtles and rats," Shannon told Punky and rubbed his cheek. He immediately stated purring again.
"So," she said after a few seconds of silence, "did you get it?"
"Yup. Wanna see?" I replied with a grin.
"Yes!" Shannon squealed. She threw my comforter back and all but shoved me into the adjoining bathroom. I carefully lifted my t-shirt and Shannon began to carefully pull back the gauze and tape from my lower torso. "It figures, doesn't it? I have to go out of town for a family reunion and you do this without me. Oh, holy crap!" she exclaimed when the bandage fell away.
I turned so my back was facing the mirror and ginned widely. The prominent scarred-over gashes on my back that I'd received while I was "away" were now accompanied by a large tattoo of a green scaled claw ripping into my flesh, the talons following the pink and white scar paths. I'd had it done a couple days before, but because I'd bled so much I'd been bandaged up and told to keep it covered for twenty-four hours. However, I wanted to wait until Shannon came back to see the finished product.
"Damn, check it out! It hurt like a son of a bitch but it looks amazing!" I said in awe.
"Oh my God, I'm so jealous! This thing is fantastic! It's beautiful and yet is kinda creepy at the same time because it really looks like your back's being torn up by something," Shannon squealed again.
You think this looks creepy? You should've seen what really tore me up, I thought before I could stop myself. No, it didn't happen like that. There's no way any of it could've been real so quit acting like it was.
"I know," I replied aloud brightly. "The tattoo artist who worked on me nearly freaked out when he saw the canvas he had to work with. But as I've said, if I'm gonna have these scars then I might as well dress 'um up."
Shannon's tone immediately sobered as she changed topics slightly. "How have those new therapy sessions been going? Have they helped you remember what caused these?"
"No, so I quit going," I stated curtly and grabbed the petroleum jelly to put on my tattoo to keep my skin from drying out. "I told you before I must have suppressed those memories for a reason and I don't want to remember. It's over and done with." And if my "memories" are real, which I highly doubt they are, it's more painful to think about who and what I'm missing.
She ripped the jar from my grasp and went to work carefully applying the jelly. "Why? Zach set those appointments up with Dr. Shepard as a favor to me so it's not like we were paying for them. They could help you if you'd only give them a chance," Shannon retorted.
"Look, I appreciate your boy-toy shrink for going outta his way like that for me, I really do. But I don't think it's a big deal. You haven't noticed any personality changes in me like the first shrink I saw said we might and I haven't woken up screaming in deathly fear, so I'd rather just no deal with it," I stated simply. "I'm not broken or showing signs of cracking so don't try and fix me."
"You may not wake up screaming, but there have been some nights I can hear you talking or laughing in you sleep," she responded with a distinct edge in her voice as her bright green eyes flashed. "And I've never known you to do that."
My body went rigid at Shannon's words. I've been talking in my sleep? Oh Holy Shit, not good! "What've I been saying?"
"Mostly I hear you laughing, but there have been a couple times, when you've fallen asleep on the couch during a movie, when I've heard you talk about," she paused for a moment to think, "setting up a multi-layered shield so you can burn the outermost one. At least I'm pretty sure that's what you've said. And then last night when I got home, you were having a rather lively conversation with two people named Shayna and Tashir. It must've been one hell of a dream because you sounded really happy. Happier than I've heard you sound in a long time," she finished sadly.
Crap. The night before I had dreamed about them, and it hadn't been the first time. That particular dream I'd been having a lot. The three of us were sitting at my favorite spot by the stream running through Companion's Field at night, just hanging out, when my Companion and lover started teasing me about my American accent. It would go on for a while before Shay would claim she'd had enough and leave, leaving Tashir and I alone to do other things.
"It was just a dream, what's so wrong with that?" I asked, trying to convince both my friend and self.
"It's one of the few small behavior and personality changes I've seen in you," Shannon corrected me.
I rolled my eyes and turned around as she finished spreading the gel and placed the jar on the sink. "Okay, so now I talk in my sleep. Whoopdi-freakin'-do! It doesn't mean anything. Millions of people talk in their sleep and no one accuses them of having repressed memories. Just forget about it; you're grasping at straws."
Shannon threw her hands up in defeat saying, "Alright, whatever. Excuse me for being worried about my friend." Before she could say anything more, we both heard he cell start ringing and she went to answer it.
I rested my weight against my hands on the sink and looked at my reflection. After deciding I hated my brown and white-banged hair short, I'd re-grown it to just below my shoulders. Blue-green eyes stared out from under the long white bangs hanging in my face, momentarily making me look kinda like a model. My 5'6" frame was still thin, never having regained all the weight I'd lost. I may not have looked any different from when I came home, but I certainly felt different.
I looked down at my hands and gave a shuddering sigh. I've been havin' that dream too much lately. You'd think that after being home for three years I would've gotten a grip. Why is it I still long for people and things that only exist in my mind?
A small mew from the floor caught my attention. Punky was sitting behind me wearing the most pathetic face I'd ever seen on a cat. He looked like he was about to burst into tears, which was exactly how I felt. I bent down and picked up his tiny body and he immediately began to purr again.
"Hey you," I whispered as I held him against my chest and scratched his head. "Were you feeling that? If I was 'Projecting', I'm sorry. But we both know I can't do that, or this." I held out my right hand and with no more than a thought, hovering a couple inches above, appeared a softly glowing brown and white bird. Punky turned his head to look, and then shifted his weight in order to try and bat at the conjured illusion with his paw. I laughed. "Then again, maybe I can."
I turned and looked at the bright neon pink and blue clock above me from my place behind the bar and read it was only 12:20am. Jesus Tap-dancing Christ, can this night go any slower?
I'd only been at work for a little over three hours, but it felt like ten had passed and I wanted to leave. Normally the music blaring from the monstrous speakers on either side of the club dance floor didn't bother me; neither did the patrons trying their damnedest to have their drink orders heard over them. But since my conversation with Shannon that morning I'd been in a semi-bad mood. Plus my back was really starting to hurt and contribute to the headache that was manifesting in my left temple.
I finished mixing a guy's White Russian and took a moment to observe the crowd. For a Thursday night we were packed. Wall-to-wall people were attempting to dance in the crowded club, which was actually a rather large auditorium sized space. Pulsating colored spot lights served to illuminate the dancing people and move to the music, giving the dance floor an almost seizure-inducing look. Tables to sit and drink were towards the back, the bar where I was sat along the side of the room, which was partially divided by a long catwalk which the other bar girls and I would use to dance and sing.
Closing my eyes, I leaned back against the counter behind the bar. I slowly released a large breath in effort to ease my impending headache but to no avail. The last thing I wanted to do was take my migraine medication but could tell by the reverberating pounding at my temple I'd have to. I slipped into the back hallway and quickly made my way to the back room which served as a dual storage and changing room.
It was about the size of a rather large bedroom, with boxes and shelves of liquor and beer along one side and cubbies for us girls to keep our stuff lining the other. A long wooden bench stood in the middle of the room and directly above was a dim florescent light. I found my bag and began to rummage through it for my pills while casting a longing glance at my jeans and sweatshirt. Damn this hooker get-up I have to wear. If I didn't make more in a year here shaking my ass around in this miniskirt, halter top, and heels then I would in almost any other service job in Chicago I'd be long gone! Ugh, and I hate this crappy lighting! I can't see a damn thing in my bag.
Without thinking, I cast a small Magelight, bathing my cubbie in a clear, bright blue light and allowing me to see what I was looking for. I soon found the bottle of pills and extracted one, swallowing it dry. I pinched the bridge of my nose to try and dull the pain, then noticed the light.
"Shit!" I swore heatedly and banished the light. A quick glance over my shoulder and a quick mental probe of the hallway showed nobody was around who could have seen the hovering ball. I sighed with relief and sat heavily on the bench. I'm getting sloppy. That's the fourth time I've done that in two weeks. I have got to pull it together and watch what I'm doing.
"Jennifer, you back here, baby girl?" my co-worker and friend Kari called out from the hall.
"Yeah, I'm here!" I responded with a shudder at the close call.
The tall raven-haired woman poked her head around the door frame and peered through the dim lighting at me. "You okay, honey?"
"Yeah, just a bit of a headache," I replied softly.
"Another migraine?" Kari asked as she took a couple steps forward, her black pumps clicking dully on the cement floor. I nodded. She bit her bottom lip and continued. "David wants us up on stage in a few. Do ya feel up to it or should I tell him you're sittin' it out?"
I breathed out slowly and silently assessed my head. "No, I think I'm okay. I just need a few minutes to get my head to stop pounding."
"Alright, David said we've got about fifteen." She eyed me closer with concerned and kind brown eyes that matched her dark skin. "You sure you're okay? You're lookin' a little pale, even for a white girl?"
"I'll be fine," I reassured her. Kari nodded and left, leaving me to compose myself. After the allotted fifteen minutes passed, I re-entered the club just as the musical cue for us girls to get up and perform blasted across the sound system and the crowd cheered in anticipation. I hitched what I hoped was a convincing smile across my face and hurried up the stairs to the catwalk when the first few notes of the Pink song "Centerfold" started to play. I heaved an internal sigh of relief that it was my song to perform, because for roughly four minutes I could turn loose and vent with the music. I turned on the small earpiece microphone I was wearing and began to sing along with the music.
I'm on the rebound, I get it when I want to
I'm on the way down, I'm getting fixed without you
You gave me a band aid, I put it on my heartbreak
And all you got is pictures in your hand
Don't you wish you could hold the angel in the centerfold?
The fantasy you couldn't control
I walked away from you
Don't you wish you could hold the pretty little paper doll?
The one you couldn't quite control
I walked away from you
Flip to me I'm the centerfold
I'm gonna charm you all night
Stick to me I'm the centerfold
We're gonna go on, hold tight
I'm gonna hate you 'til I forget you
So here's a keep sake; I left it in the bathroom
Just a little something, something to remind you
I'm sure you'll never get this close again
Don't you wish you could hold the angel in the centerfold?
The fantasy you couldn't control
I walked away from you
Don't you wish you could hold the pretty little paper doll?
The one you couldn't quite control
I walked away from you
Flip to me I'm the centerfold
I'm gonna charm you all night
Stick to me I'm the centerfold
We're gonna go on, hold tight
Now its him when it coulda been you
Tell me why it's him when it shoulda been you?
It's crazy how this makes you wanna change
Here's an image you won't forget
All your life I'll tease, I'll torment
I'll be gone as soon as you turn the page
Don't you wish you could hold the angel in the centerfold
The fantasy you couldn't control
I walked away from you
Don't you wish you could hold the pretty little paper doll
The one you couldn't quite control
I walked away from you
Flip to me I'm the centerfold
I'm gonna charm you all night
Stick to me I'm the centerfold
We're gonna go on, hold tight
As my song ended, the start of another one was seamlessly intertwined with the dying notes as it was another girl, Ashley's, turn to sing and the rest of us sang backup. She was only a few bars in when I felt the unmistakable sensation of somebody watching me. Yes, I was on a stage wearing an impossibly short skirt and dancing in a club full of drunk and horny men and women, but the feeling I had was different. It wasn't a gaze that said, "Oh hey, she's hot," but said, "She's the one."
For the next twenty minutes I was on stage, I could feel the set of eyes watching my every move and breath, reading me, puzzling me out, and assessing me. I tried to find where the person watching me was by sight but came up cold, and refused to Reach out with my mind because I was afraid of what I might find.
When we finally descended from the stage I was shaking like a leaf. There's always a danger in working in a club like that, where there's one night when one customer goes to far and the bouncers have to step in. So far I'd been lucky that I'd never had one of those nights and I sure as hell didn't want my record broken. I was freaked.
Then I Felt it, something I hadn't Felt in three years. A simple, light, friendly Mindtouch which felt oddly familiar. My head snapped up in surprise as I instantly strengthened the few mental shields I allowed myself anymore, effectively shutting off the attempt at contact. "Who was that?" I whispered to the air.
I climbed back up on the catwalk and again surveyed the room, lowering my shields ever so slightly. A few people gyrating below me looked up, thinking I was going to dance again but I ignored them as my eyes scanned the scene looking for anything out of the ordinary. I didn't see anything and shook my head as I got down, silently chiding myself for thinking I Felt a Mindtouch. You dumbass. First you give in momentarily to believing you can cast a Magelight and now you think someone's trying to Mindspeak with you. You don't have any special powers or abilities no matter what your memories say. You're not a former Herald-Mage, you did not go to Valdemar, and you're nothing special.
But again, just as I got down I Felt a tentative Mindtouch brush against my shields. I spun around and nearly collided with Shannon who was holding two empty glasses in her hands.
"Jenn, watch it!" she cried.
"Sorry!" I said and climbed back up. Again, I looked over the crowd and saw nothing or nobody out of place. Time for a different approach.
:Okay, I bite. Who are you?: I couldn't believe I was trying to Mindspeak when I knew I couldn't but waited for a response anyway. When nothing came after a few moments I tried again.
:Look jackass, I know you can hear me so who the hell are you?: That time I got a response.
:Jennifer, do you really not remember me?: the familiar voice asked.
:Who and where the hell are you?!: I shouted mentally.
:To your left, sitting at the larger back table.:
I turned and looked carefully over the tables. They were all occupied by various groups of people engaged in joyful conversations, when the people at one of the larger back tables caught my eye. Three men sat there, and it was the younger of the men who raised his hand in greeting. I wasn't sure if it was a trick of the light, but he looked like he would be a little shorter than me when he stood, round and solid build, and flaming red hair. I felt my eyes widen and jaw drop as I took in his appearance. No, no it can't be. There's no way in hell…
:This isn't exactly the place I expected to find you, but then again you've always been full of surprises.: the voice said with a dry chuckle.
I slammed my shields up again, hurried off the stage and all but ran back into the changing room. I dove into my bag and fished out another bottle of pills and water bottle, this time taking two for anxiety. I collapsed onto the bench and cradled my head in my hands as I made sure my shields were as tight and solid as I could make them so nothing could get through.
I heard another set of footsteps hurrying down the hall and into the room, then felt another presence fall next to me and wrap me in a hug.
"Jenn, what happened? You look like you've seen a ghost?" Shannon asked, her voice nearly frantic.
I waited until I thought my voice wouldn't waver to answer, and tried to tell her what happened without needing to explain too much. "I felt like someone was watching me and got up to look, but then saw Jacob and ran back here." Jacob had been my latest boyfriend and the relationship hadn't ended too well a few days before. I figured he would make a good excuse.
"Is that all? Kari said you had to take your migraine pills and that's the first time you've touched them in almost six months," she said calmly.
"Yeah. Look, I'm gonna go home. My head's starting to kill me and if Jacob is here then I don't want to deal with him too. Can you let David know?" I asked. Not only was the money really great, but another perk at working there was the owner and manager, David, was really flexible if you needed to leave suddenly. Even more so with me for some reason.
"Sure, I'll take care of it. You go home and get some rest, okay? I'll call in a couple hours and make sure you're alright," Shannon said as she helped me to my feet and handed me my street clothes.
Twenty minutes later I was waiting at the train station platform and wondering if who I'd thought I'd seen in the back of the club was real, or just a figment of my imagination. I'd had the dream about Shayna and Tashir the most, but there were plenty of others involving my other friends. That was, if the dreams and my memories could be trusted. But the thing that scared the shit out of me the most that night, was I was pretty damn sure I'd just seen Trine.