Ten Years

Cezille07

I made this because I loved and hurt because of MA. I don't own MA or any of its characters.

CHAPTER 1: REMEMBER

"No," said the old lady.

Or hag, he thought rightly, disgusted. He disliked being in the same room as her, after everything she had done to him. Several attempts at murder, humiliation at his very own home. She ought not to be his family, she ought to have died the last time he had the chance to end her.

The old lady—hag—puffed at her cigarette and looked into his eyes. It scared him for a moment, the way she brusquely disagreed. "Any way you put it, no." Such a simple request to handle, and she would have been the right woman to do it, no matter how he hated her. She was the only one.

"You didn't even offer to pay me, and you beg me to do what you want?" the hag said, her cruel eyes boring into his soul. "Another thing, you'd be better off with your powers in here than nothing with a...a hag like me, eh?" It was like she read his face, the way she spoke. "Out of the blue, you come here on several false pretenses. But what else can I expect but blackmail from you? What right do you have to visit me in my Detention Oasis by yourself and ask favors of me?"

This particular line hit him like a ton of block ice. He got up and allowed the guards—two large and mean-looking Bombos—to hide him from her view as he was escorted outside. Enough, if you won't help me then don't! What a headache! Walking away, he turned his head and tiptoed as best as he could, to look back at her, have the last laugh. She's alone there anyway. She's had the liberty of speaking to me without the risk of being killed, by me, of course. And it so happens that I am free. I don't need her! What was I thinking? Or rather, he was trying to convince himself. Never mind. Uh this sucks!

And then, he found himself in the last room, nearest the exit; they had used a different door than before. The guards drove him into another room within, a metal room, within which eerie noises his ears had never heard before were issuing. He realized it was a trap.

Hags like her should never be trusted! his dazed mind let out. "Let me go!" he yelled at the Bombos as loud as he could, mustering every last bit of will power he had.

But they wore tight earplugs. His efforts, it was always not enough...

Streets away, in the same city, a string of peaceful houses stood. It had been raining, not too hard, all afternoon. Holding her umbrella, she saw no point in going back. Maybe it was because this was the last time she'd see it that she had to give in to her childish wishes.

Too childish, it's nothing! Those days are over... Why'd I even think...? She shook her head, leaving her thoughts behind and coming up to the door numbered seven. She was going to knock, when at last minute she decided against it.

No, we were ten years old! It's nothing! Nothing, come on! she thought angrily to herself. What silly thoughts to bother about. But she wanted to cry as she turned on the spot and took a step down toward the street, to her own house ten years before.

"Elena!"

She looked around. There was Zick's mother, Greta, in the open doorway.

"What are you doing around here?" she asked casually.

Elena hesitated for a long moment, and then answered, "I was in town and I wanted to see my old house." She gulped so hard she thought Greta may have heard it, but there was no reaction.

Or should I say, 'my old home'?

Greta smiled. "Come inside for a while, Elena, I'll get you something. You must be tired. If I heard right, it mean you've literally come miles away, huh?"

No, it'll make things worse. I might never get to leave, she thought, willing her whole body to keep walking, willing her mind to disagree. However, she tucked her umbrella in her bag and entered that door once more. Eleven years ago, when she had first done so, she was scared out of her wits at the sight of Zick with his mask on. She didn't know that they'd be friends then, both of them being 'different'. 'Different' was a term that meant weirdo or un-cool, but it defined them as best friends. And so they were.

"Elena, dear, would you like cookies with tea?" Greta asked, again so casually. Elena nodded faster than she thought of it, and returned to her daydreaming.

She had subconsciously reached the fireside, above which were pictures of his family. There were his grandparents, who he admitted never to have caught alive, but later he revealed to see ghosts. And she eventually learned to see them as well. The cats of the house, actually the Tutor of the hidden monster world, were comfortable in a frame of their own. (She found no sign of them anywhere she looked.) And then there was a frame with just Zick in it; the next two were family pictures. A frame to the right of those was her ten-year-old self. Funny that they kept it there after that ordeal with the Tutors. And then...

"Elena, come over here. Let's catch up awhile," said Greta. Elena smiled again, beholding that sweet face, knowing that she was one of the greatest mothers that lived, aside from her own. She hasn't changed, she's still nice and sweet as ever, thought Elena.

She made her way to the table to where Greta was standing and found herself a seat. "Thanks, Mrs. Barrymore. They're good!" she said the moment she downed the first cookie.

"Anyway, you came to see Zick right?"

"Yes," she replied slowly, choosing her words, "I thought I'd chance on him before I go again. It may be another few years before I set foot here, if ever."

"Oh. Well, to tell you the truth he's not home yet. It's past curfew, but lately, he's always getting home late," Greta stated. She poured herself a cup of tea, and sat beside her. "He may be at the college, if you remember where that is. Near your old school Zob's trying to pick him up."

"Thank you."

"How are you? How's your family?"

"They're all fine. The twins are as naughty as ever, now that they're in fifth grade, and Mom had to take yoga classes to ease off the stress. It's funny actually, but Dad and I learned to live with it." Shallow laughter emerged from her own lips as she spoke. "And uh, how are things around here?"

"Still the same, really. None of the monster have been released yet. Their stay here was prolonged by the...by the...event. Timothy and Jeremy aren't pleased with the Centennial sentence. Well, none of us are."

Yeah, imagine being grounded for a hundred years in one house, Elena mused. And her mind flashed back to the pictures on the fireplace. She was still there among them, she the cause of all that upheaval. She was the cause, and they still had her picture! Why would they want to remember?

"Anyhow, we're good and close as ever. Looking after the bunch for all this time has made them family. We can live with that. It doesn't seem that bad, really. After all, we got along ever since, even more since you came, what would the rest of the Centennial matter?"

At this point Elena sighed uneasily. The issue is still the same! Ten years of distance. Nothing has changed. She wanted to slap herself, realize that her efforts were fruitless. She couldn't look at Greta after everything she had done. In her chest was a mix of guilt and longing she couldn't understand. What an insignificantsacrifice, giving up her friendship—Uh, no! I don't want to go through this all over again.

"Something wrong?"

"Huh?" she let out, startled. "Oh, nothing."

Focus, Elena! C'mon! Game face! Forget it. Forget it. But I want to... NO! Enough. I knew it would be harder if I came in for a while. I knew it. But still, but still... No, again, no. I should leave soon.

She finished two more cookies and her cup of tea before speaking again. "Mrs. Barrymore, I should be going. It's getting dark."

"You're right. Too bad you missed Zick."

You are so right, Elena retorted in her mind, nodding absently to Greta. But it's better this way. I might never get to leave if I...

"Greta! He's not there! We looked everywhere, but he's not there!!" a voice exclaimed, and the venerable figure of Zob burst through the doorway. Anxiety surged from his voice. His eyes fell on Elena. "You..."

"I was just about to leave," quipped Elena, standing.

"No, stay here. Wait for the Tutors," he considered, and then hurried to the basement. Greta showed signs of discomfort. She stood, picked up the tea tray and went to the kitchen.

Minutes later, Timothy came in through the door looking tired. He looked up and found her standing in the living room. "Elena!" It was a call of mixed apprehension and pleasant surprise. "Greetings. But we have an emergency. Please don't bother us for the time being, we'll just handle this," he said. "But I daresay I want to talk to you later!" He laughed to himself, apparently pleased for some reason, and then walked away.

Following behind him was an awestruck Jeremy. "Miss Elena!" He managed to say, seeming to suppress any other speech that would have escaped. Nevertheless he followed Timothy and Zob to the basement.

What's going on with those? The thought escaped her faster than she knew it. She stared after them minutes after their voices hushed down and clanking was heard all over. They must be preparing for some assignment. She couldn't help wanting to go with them, if only to relive the thrill of being with Zick in their own missions. But here I go again! That time is over. Let them do their job. After all, it's not my affair. They're in charge of those things...

She pondered for a moment whether or not she should slip out unnoticed. But another side of her ached to help in the search. What could go wrong? Why would Zick be missing? Where would he be? What would he be doing? Would...would he need her help?

Then Greta emerged from the kitchen in a new set of clothes; she hung her old ones over the hat stand Elena hadn't noticed before.

"Sorry, don't mind the fuss. It's just security measures. They've tagged all our clothes with trackers. Luckily, they didn't think of injecting trackers into our bloodstream, then that will be a problem. But in extreme cases like these, where we must leave the house, well, Lardine thought up this grand scheme of putting our clothes on standing figures while we leave with no trouble from the Tutors. She got us other clothes to put on while we're out."

Elena nodded unsurely, not aware that other restrictions were set on the family. Again, her fault. What was so wrong with me that I...?

The rest of the party came from the basement, all suited up for battle. And she understood the need for the equipment and the clothing. She felt inclined to join them. And then again: NO, stop it right now! You'll drive yourself crazy wanting to go back to that life.

"That life is anything but ordinary!" she whispered to the air. "I won't go. There, that's right. I'll just leave."

"Hey Elena!" It was Timothy.

What? she asked in thought. No, don't listen. They can do it.

He approached her warily. "In behalf of this team I ask you to help us, please. A long time has elapsed since we last saw each other. We wish you to go alongside with us."

I want to but I can't, she thought, but already she was saying, "Of course! Count me in!" Elena, what are you doing?!

"In that case, take this," and he handed her a stun gun, "just for protection. In case anything tries to attack you."

She understood. Staring ahead of them into a dark, red-clouded sky, they left in a line out into the darkening night.

"Alright," Zob instructed. "He could be anywhere. Go in pairs. I'll go alone; I can handle anything that should come up by myself. The rest of you, be careful. Spread out. We have six hours before the nightly roll call. If any of you find him, give the signal. If not, we meet here again at 11:30 PM, with just thirty minutes before they check us. We have to be in time for it, regardless of whether or not we find him. Make it quick, okay? Go team. Let's go!"

Everyone went separate ways. Elena had gone with Greta, and they were now traversing a road she recognized as the one headed for the forest. The rain stopped had for now, with the clouds looking ominous as ever.

They were not too far from the starting point. Yet as they went on, the memory of their old adventure there with a certain black phantom was forcing its way to the front of her eyes, like a flashback, but she gave an effort to keep it at bay.

But that time, it was I who finished him, that dark ghost. I showed them I can kick monster butt too! And we learned that love is stronger than death... But then what about separation...?

She caught herself staring into open space, her feet rooted to the spot. Come on! We were TEN YEARS OLD! Get over it! She followed Greta a few more meters, not really looking for signs of Zick, still submerged in her thoughts. I really shouldn't be doing this.

"Elena! I think we should separate. You have the stun gun with you. Keep it. The forest is really big."

"I don't think we should risk searching independently. It is a big forest. Zob said—"

"Listen! We can cover more ground that way!" Greta yelled. "Never mind what he said!" She went ahead into the dark forest. Even from where she was, Elena heard her hard, furious breathing.

She had no idea how she found the place, but it was a great edifice made of steel and glass. It was at least five stories high, and each had only one window. The windows were sealed shut. The entrance gate was the only movable segment of the building; however, it was left unguardedly open, to welcome visitors? Or perhaps it was a reverse-psychology strategy to lure unsuspecting innocents into its treacherous depths...

Hmm, not a bad place to run away to, she figured, and crossed the threshold.

There was only one long and narrow hallway inside just wide enough for one person to pass through, laden with countless doors on each side; but it was at the very end of this hallway where a distinctive door stood, its numerous, rusty locks giving it a ghastly look. It attracted her childish mind, her younger self of ten years past. Another mission!

But NO! For the LAST time, get over it...

She turned around to leave. But suddenly, the magnificent door creaked open in the distance. She shot for the nearest door and hid inside. A tiny hole in the middle of the door permitted her to see through. A fat old woman was making her way through the hallway, followed by a couple of large, red creatures. I've seen them before, in Zick's house, they're Bombos, right? Slowly, the woman reached the door opposite to her hiding place and, looking behind her, whispered, "Keep watch, you idiots," before entering.

A long silence persisted throughout the hallway. Elena could only so much as wonder what was inside or why the red creatures were obeying her. But deep within the answer was quite plain to her. Beads of sweat formed all over her, but she dared not move. To focus her eyes on the now closed door was all she was capable of doing, just to wait for anything suspicious. For the moment, she forgot about the rescue mission. Something fishy was with that woman.

And she was right: for there came a faint, yet unmistakably familiar sound—a sound she thought they had obliterated a month before she left that city. What can it be aside from—

Emily? Isn't it Emily?!

Panic gripped her insides as her eyes drained of fluid in an effort never to blink while the woman was in that room. How come I didn't't realize...? And what's she doing...?

It hit her too like ice. Need I ask? That's Zick in there! Come on, Elena, act now!

She took the doorknob and wrenched it as far as it could go, but the door did not give way. Something heavy was blocking it from the other side. The guards! Man, what luck. That diet was for nothing, I should have gone for the exercise program instead!

"Yo, fatty, get off the door!" she screamed, kicking at the door thrice. It didn't give way no matter what she tried. Or were they deaf, or just plain stupid not to notice a racket like hers?! She found a small metal chair among the litter in the room. Taking that, she threw it with all her might at the door. There was a loud clang that made her ears tingle for some time after it landed. She didn't mind. She proceeded to kicking the door repeatedly.

The guards looked behind them, wondering what the cause of the slight movement of the wall they were leaning on. They didn't see Elena and her energetic attempts to push them out of the way. And then—

At last, the door gave way. It fell to the floor with a loud, echoing noise, amplified by the enclosed metal hallway.

Elena limped out of the room as quietly as she could. The guards were still bewildered by the door. They didn't see me—what luck! She walked to the other door, pretending as much as possible to look as if she was off guard. They didn't attack. She felt the stun gun in her pocket. The door opened, revealing a short corridor that led to a smaller door at the end. It too was made of metal; the absence of a doorknob made her panic. It had a password-protected lock, which may only open after the correct code. Great, just great!

She limped forward, cautious of any noise she might create. For Emily to know that she was there would be the end of any hope. She pressed her ear to the door. Stinging cold met her flesh, and she drew back.

Stunned, the door blasted open. Pain shot through Elena's injured leg as she fell back. For the first time she noticed there was a deep cut, and that it bled freely.

"I knew it." Emily outfaced her. The air was still like the cold metal all around them. "Silly, silly girl. And oh my, you've grown too! You're more...beautiful, dear. But all that didn't seem to grow was your brain! What did you think, coming here to my ground?"

Elena continued to stare back. I'm doomed. Shifting her glances between Emily and the now open door, she tried to stand, using the walls as support, to no avail. Zick's in there...

"Of course, this is more extravagant that your ordinary Detention Oasis," Emily continued, walking in a circle around her. "I get high-class treatment from the Most-High Tutors themselves, to make sure I don't escape. A nice offer, to be honest: a good shelter from those who chase after me, specifically Zick's family. The only sad thing is, they drain my power into these rooms. But the greatest flaw they made in placing me here? Putting a couple of the dumbest creatures alive as my guards!"

She allowed Elena the liberty of asking, "And so? Your point is?"

"The point is that you don't see them, and they're perfectly brainless, which means I'm in the position to kill you, and nobody will know about it! They wouldn't know anything that you came here!" She cackled again, as sinisterly as she did the last time Elena heard her.

Elena gulped again, this time seriously hoping she wasn't heard. Even though she knew Emily didn't know she saw the Bombos, this fear gripped her. As she shifted her position, she felt something poke her from inside her clothes. It was the stun gun! The tiny glimmer of hope it gave her seemed so feeble. But all she needed was a few minutes...

At the right moment, just as Emily passed her right arm side, Elena snatched the stun gun from her bag and stuck it to that fat leg. The ugly old lady fell unconscious, a loud thud that sent a quake to the entire building.

Elena scrambled to her feet and headed for the door. Just as suspected, there was Zick, out cold (quite literally), several colored tubes injected. She tried to wake him. The moment their skin had contact, a strong electric shock overcame her. She was thrown back again, doubling her pain.

She cursed as she tried to stand and found that Zick was stirring. The only lucky thing that happened here! Good he's awake!

"Hurry, get up!" she said, not even half-wondering what the shock was for.

"Elena?" He blinked. It seemed to have no effect; his whole body shivering violently.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw one of the red creatures were at the combination locks, punching codes madly, while the other one yanked at Emily's legs. An electronic voice boomed overhead: "Self-destruct sequence in T minus 15 seconds."

"Zick! Let's go!" Elena made to get to her feet, but this time she could no longer move her leg. She watched Zick raise himself stiffly, nevertheless successfully, removing the tubes while he did so. "Go ahead, get out of here!" Instead, he stopped at her side, and pulled her up too. They frantically made a 'run' for the exit—'run', if it were so called with a broken leg or hypothermia.

Ahead of them were the guards, now sharing the weight of Emily between them. They took no notice of the escaping victims or that her clothes were tearing from keeping her balanced. They ran into the forest and disappeared behind a thick clump of trees. Zick and Elena followed them and hid from the prison behind a large tree in time to hear the electronic voice say: "3...2...1..."

The whole building exploded in fire. Flames licked at the trees; Elena was forced once more to use her reluctant legs to find safety.

She had a moment to look back at what remained of the prison: embers, scraps of metal, and a fierce orange glow that reached the sky. When it died later, the rusted edifice collapsed into itself, into a new form far too different from before.

"Whoa..." she whispered to herself, "it could've been bad..." Her voice trailed away with the flames, her eyes reflecting its weak glow. She sat down, leaning on the nearest tree for support, next to a drowsy Zick. She couldn't remove her glance from the once-magnificent prison. "Really bad..." she told herself. She was alive and fully functional, except for her left leg. They just did it again, scraped through death narrowly. Again, yet again...

How many times have they fooled death in their adventures of old? How many times did sheer luck bring them through a potentially hopeless situation? Could it have been just luck? Could their skill, or wit, that have brought success on? Or could it be just their unlikely chemistry when they were together?

Suddenly she felt like ten years old again; suddenly she wanted to tap Zick's shoulder, laugh maniacally and say, "Wasn't I good, huh?" She half-smiled to herself upon this: So ten years didn't matter after all.

She found the Signal (a gadget looking more like a cell phone than anything) from within Zick's clothes. After much deciphering she realized what it was. It took a lot of effort to keep him awake and ask him how to use it, but eventually, a bright red light sparked from what was supposed to be the antenna and zoomed off into the cloudy sky. Half an hour later, the search team found them in the same spot, and they began the long journey home.

Despite all her inward elation, walking at least two miles with a fractured limb was no treat. What a blessing it was just to sit on a comfy sofa. The most help she received from any of them was from Timothy who held the door open for her as she entered the Barrymore Detention Oasis once again.

"Thank you," she breathed. She thought he'd follow the family upstairs into Zick's room and monitor his conditions—which luckily was kept stable for the meantime by his consciousness. But a quarter of an hour elapsed (it was now 10:45 PM), and he remained watching her catch her breath.

"I said earlier that I wanted to talk to you," he began cautiously. He made his way to where her feet laid resting and sat, still watching her. "If you would please lend me your injured leg I can do something about it."

Elena obeyed. She extended it toward him. And before her she morphed into his original form. She tried to hold back her excitement, yet the delight was evident in her eyes.

"You're still fascinated by this world of ours, I see," he started. Out of thin air he procured a medical kit, after which he proceeded to applying a clear, runny ointment on wounds she didn't know had existed. "Ever since the previous encounter with Emily, you have been more susceptible to seeing our kind."

Elena giggled; she loved them, every kind of them, with their weirdness and sweetness. All the time she was witness that indeed they were everywhere the humans weren't, but they did try to blend in at times. The new city proved far more populated than Old Mill, but they were the same friendly and uncanny as usual.

"How have the past ten years been on you? What's been going on?" Timothy went on, quite interested in her expression.

And her smile halted. "Things are going too normally, if you ask me." Well, that wasn't a lie. She enjoyed seeing them less and less because she was always reminded of Zick and their tragic separation. And the reason she was here—she was bursting to tell anyone. But it had to be Zick. She owed him that small compensation, if anything. It HAD to be him. "I'm always busy watching Charlie and Violet while Mom and Dad are at work. And college was a stress-magnet. A lot of hell days and hell weeks. Nothing extraordinary."

"How do you like it?"

A trap question, is it? But honesty works best. Zick himself learned that to help his father, ten years ago. It worked, that time. But ugh, the thought of those Anguanas... Yeah, tell him the truth. "Not much. It's so boring, knowing what I've been through." She felt brave and heroic. But what was the point? What had she done? Nothing to be proud of.

He patted her leg, now completely wrapped in bandages, with a satisfied smile. "The past is stronger than the present, don't you think?"

What kind of metaphor is that? "Yes," she said unsurely. "But wait, please tell me about you. What happened to you guys?"

"If you want to know..."

"Why wouldn't I?" she asked heatedly. Her face felt hot and red. Why wouldn't I? We were friends! WERE...but what about now? Could I go on thinking about him like this, especially after what I must tell him...? "Sorry, please go on."

Timothy grinned again, the same satisfaction present. "Well, you know about the Centennial Punishment given to us by the Most High Tutors. We're confined here day and night, except for Greta who is allowed to buy food supplies and Zick who must attend school. Then daily by midnight, the Tutors come down here to check on each of us—attendance, general state and all. We're complying with everything they said, but things get worse and worse. They treat us like vermin, ridicule us every chance they get. Everyone remains maddened by the solitude!"

He paused to look at her.

Her mouth was hanging open in disbelief. "B-but I thought they are all wise and everything? The high and mighty? The rulers of all of you?" she asked.

And he laughed. "Don't worry, that's what Greta says. She's a bit hopeless these days. But it's not all too bleak." Elena didn't lose her upset appearance, but slackened a bit by the last clause.

I thought by moving away I could help them regain what glory they achieved by defeating Magnacat. And then that event happened. OH goodness! Elena sighed heavily.

Timothy ignored it, saying, "Remember the first time we met?"

Elena looked up, confused. That story was long finished; there's a new issue now.

"You were rather—how shall I put it—determined to associate with us, whom others disregarded. However, you were a friend to us more than you threatened our society. I came to think of you as wise and helpful, especially after the occurrence of the Mask of Fire. You're reliable and you judge people well."

"Thank you," Elena cut him short, flattered. "But you know I've done something worse than all those things are great. I'm ashamed of what happened, really. I didn't want to come back but had to because...because..."

"It's okay; this is not a reprimand! Let me finish, Elena. There is a bright side anyway to everything we're going through. Right now, this Centennial Punishment means nothing. Just like it never happened. While everyone else has that privilege of freedom, and while they can live normal lives, it's the same for us here, only this time with magnified surveillance, that's all."

"What, so the other Tamers can take care of the problems outside while you wait for ninety more years to be over."

"We can hope for that. But the Tutors behavior is worrying me. The old ones you saw who granted the freedom to all Tamers have retired. In charge are a new generation of young and inexperienced Tutors. If like Zick they are innately skilled and have a built-in common sense, things will proceed well. If they lead the others to doing wrong, then we'll worry about that. The only thing so far we notice is their meanness toward this family. Maybe they don't like us. I hope that's all, seriously, because if something deeper was going on and we're trapped here..."

"You're having a hard time because you're stuck here!! It's my fault! Again, as always!"

He nearly chuckled. "Why are you so guilty?"

"I just told you my reason."

Timothy smiled. "It's alright. We'll find a way. And now we have your help again."

My help? She wanted to cry. How could you want to depend on my help after what I put you through? But she bit her tongue and remained silent. I've learned by now not to act rashly.

She looked at Timothy one more time. The stately posture, the wise old look. He was a Tutor and showed it well if it weren't for the feline disguise. At that she recalled her own cat, Purrcy.

"Hey, do you remember Purrcy?" she asked, feeling awkward. It had nothing to do with what they were saying, but it felt right to be mentioned.

"Yes, how is that furball doing?"

"He was so old when he died he couldn't see. He lived a good long life for me." The thought brought some nostalgia into her.

"He's gone? Ah, I'm sorry."

There was silence between them. She felt a strong sense of respect for Timothy, for what he has been through, for everything he had done for her. He was in all ways different from Purrcy, but he was a good friend too, now that she thought of it.

"Elena, listen to me," Timothy began. "Good friends move on, but they never forget."

So is that it? It was only then she began to see through his metaphors. Friends never forget. What's he trying to say? Zick never forgot me? Is that it? But how could he after what I did? I feel like I never had the right to be as close as I was earlier. And after what I must tell him... A lump in her throat formed. Guilt, anger, fear, rolled into one.

And she fell asleep.

As another one dreams:

He couldn't understand the sheer coldness of the air—he couldn't control his own shaking, nor his wandering mind, nor the question, "Why am I still alive? Wouldn't I rather have Emily kill me that time, ten years ago...with her machine to take my blood..." That time, Elena had saved his very life by laying down her own. And he returned the favor by adding to her load the responsibilities of being a Keeper. But she was as brave as she was stupid. She didn't have to do it. She needn't have followed. Life was bad as it was.

And then, a warm hand was laid on his shoulder. That too he didn't understand. He was alone, wasn't he? Or someone had dragged him back to the realm of the living. "Leave me alone," he wanted to say. He so wanted to give up. Ten years of torture was enough! Ten years of sleepless nights, ten years of sighs, ten years of wondering how he could bring back that one moment...

And then, "Zick!" He heard it, it was his name! Such a word had never been spoken with this familiarity, with this very tone. Such a word was like music played in a solitary prison, this sweet word was such a sweet melody. And her voice! He woke his wasted mind, sought for any clue as to who—or what—it could be. Wake up, mind, wake. It is a name you must never forget, lest ten years is enough to change destiny. A surge of guilt. He couldn't remember. But it was so familiar it just might be her. Could it? Is it?

"E-Elena..." he mumbled. He smiled inside. It was her. It was her! He would have leapt—or kissed her—for joy, had this not been the circumstance.

The rest was almost automatic. She wrapped him in the warmest embrace he had ever received his whole life. "Stay with me, okay? Don't sleep! Body temperature drops if you're unconscious!" she said, or something like that. Never mind what she said. She was really here! Again he whispered, "Elena..." If it were his last breath, it would have been the happiest. He would have died in peace.

"Zick!" she called, her voice full of panic. She was stroking his hair, keeping him awake. She was saving his life for the umpteenth time.

What ecstasy, what elation! Why was life so cruel as to spare him this simple joy? But here and now, nothing else mattered. Her warmth was his life, and her voice, his heartbeat. What wouldn't he give to remain in her arms forever? Her embrace...was...everything. That...and her tone...made ten years of agony feel like nothing.

A/N: This is just Chapter 1, so please keep on reading! Thanks for the reviews. Don't worry that this is rather…ambiguous. It's a teaser or something. Everything will be explained in Chapter 2: "Feel the Reality of the Present".