Grey II - Ghosts

Chapter 42 - Reliving October

So watch me build tolerance. I don't need any deliverance.
As I recall it was unbearable. It's all in my head.

In Fear and Faith - The Solitary Life

I hated lying to her, especially about something like that, using my mother, using the connection we had because of that night to steer Jordan away from the truth, but I couldn't think of any other option. I had often thought of my mother as A, so the lie came easily. But I knew that wasn't the question Jordan had meant. She wanted to know who the A Levi had almost let slip was. She wanted to know about Ambriel.

It worried me what the boy knew, what he had seen in my mind, what he had sensed in it. But he was young, maybe he didn't understand what he'd seen. I hoped he didn't understand. I hoped he wouldn't go running to Abraham and tell him everything he must have learned.

Jordan stared at me as if expecting me to say more, as if telling her my mother's name wasn't enough. I shouldn't have said anything. I should have gotten up and left when the little boy did, that's what Jordan had been expecting. She hadn't even noticed me there for the first minute, just stared off into the room, her mind fast at work on some problem I hadn't the slightest inkling of. I wished I had her Gift sometimes, but then I'd have to feel her again, and I knew I couldn't do that, couldn't handle being so close to her, feeling our connection and still be cold to her, be distant and empty. I had kept what I could of my own abilities far from her since my arrival, but I knew I wouldn't be able to handle her Gift like she did. I didn't deserve it.

"Are you waiting to hear my father's name too?"

I said the words without any conviction. Even with my Shift I couldn't make my voice mock her for simply sitting and watching me. We were in her room after all. She wasn't the one that should be leaving, I was, but I didn't want to, not yet. I didn't want to sleep or train or spend my night wondering where Kael was, where my father was, what plans Abraham had in motions and when he would let us know them. I just wanted to sit where I was, even in silence, with my Pair near me. But I couldn't do that. I couldn't be in her presence, not peacefully at least, not without abusing her somehow, making her hate me more, separating us further.

I knew I shouldn't waste the opportunities I got, waste the times I could make her despise me more, but it was so hard, so difficult to kick her when she was already down, already just barely keeping herself together. She put up a good front, but it was easy to see the cracks in her, always widening, deepening. Even at the mere mention of my mother I could see the strain on her face, see the walls bending at the weight from her memories, her emotions. I hated how easily I could do that to her, how easily I could destroy her. Someone like me should never have that kind of power over someone like her. But I did, and I had to keep hitting her down to the pavement, keep making every memory she had of me poisoned and bitter.

This memory would be one of the worst to destroy, but I still had to, especially had to, it didn't even matter if I wanted to anymore. There was no choice. If I wanted her to let me go, to let her Pair go, if it was even possible to let go of the one person that was made to mirror you, to complete you, then I had to stomp out every thought she had of me, ruin every good thing we had shared. I wouldn't have to deal with the aftermath of whatever battle was coming, of being alone. I knew I wouldn't be alive for it. She would be the one who would have to live on with half of herself missing, half of herself forgotten and rotting in some unmarked grave, knowing that she had lost the only gift this world ever held for creatures like us.

The only thing I could do for her now was slowly pry my claws out of her, slowly break the threads that stitched us together, one memory at a time, one strand of care at a time. Maybe if it was done slowly, gradually, it wouldn't be so hard when I was gone for good, maybe it would be a relief to her. I prayed it would be.