31. Olly #3
I had shown up at Shepard’s place about an hour ago, using my old key from when I lived here. He came at me with a fire extinguisher, demanding to know who the hell I was, breaking into his house.
“Shep, it’s me, Olly, Olly McLeod! This is our baby!
” I hollered, backing up to the door I’d closed behind me.
I felt pure terror at that moment, to the point where I thought I might piss myself.
I put one hand out in front of me and one hand over my belly, and he gave pause, lowering the extinguisher enough that I no longer felt threatened.
I closed my eyes and reached out toward Shepard’s mind, and sure enough, it had been carefully manipulated.
I felt the fingerprint of Edward Evans all over this.
All of the memories about me and the last dozen years were there, but it was like someone had decided to slap mental duct tape over them so they wouldn’t be visible to Shepard.
I did the psychic equivalent of carefully ripping the tape off, and his face went from confused to very confused, then to relief.
“Olly, thank the gods. I thought I was going crazy,” he said, placing the fire extinguisher on the floor, then sliding down the wall so he was sitting, his head cradled in his hands.
“I had this sense, all the time, that something crucial was missing. Like, that four months or so ago, I lost something, but more important than my wallet or keys. I lost a part of my life. Do you know what I mean?”
I felt guilt as I took in his almost desperate-looking face, and even more guilt when I thought about having abandoned Clark back at the office.
It just seemed like no matter what I did today, someone was going to be hurt, and I was too selfish after what I’d just gone through at the hospitals for that person to be me.
“Well, six months ago is when I moved out. And then four months ago, I went missing, carrying our baby. That had to be when they messed with your memories. Erased me, Bea, and any effort you would try to launch to find us. A cult actually kidnapped me. Like, a really evil one. I was...well, let’s just say I’ve had better vacations. I was tortured, medically.”
Shepard’s eyes widened, and he scootched even closer to me, holding one of my hands between his. “Torture? I can’t...holy fuck. I mean, that explains why you look like hell. I’m sorry, but you do. When did you escape? How did you escape? Are they coming after you?”
“It was a combination of an escape and a rescue by Clark. Just yesterday. I suppose I ought to rest, really. I feel quite woozy. I just knew that with Clark stuck at the office that this would be the safest place I could go.” I broke off the sob that was threatening to leap from my throat.
No, no crying. I had to stay strong and not let those tears out, because once I started crying again, I was going to be doing it for like three days, I just knew it.
“Shepard, I’ve been hiding things from you.
From you, the most trusted person in my world.
Well, one of three of the most trusted people. Clark and Thomas being the others.”
He nodded and reached over to squeeze my hand. “It’s okay, Olly. Whatever it is, it’s okay.” I felt my eyes fill with tears at his willingness to just listen and be supportive.
“I can read minds, and I see the future, then draw it, and I know when and where you will die. I want to keep our baby. I’ve met her already, in the dream space.
It’s a place inside my mind I usually can only access through sleep, so that’s how I think of it, though I think it’s more of a shared reality between interconnected souls.
Fuck, Shepard, this is adding up to me being the world’s worst bestie. ”
Shepard shook his head and looked at me a bit mournfully.
“No, just no, Olly. I had inklings that things about you were different. We’ve been lovers and roommates for twelve years, the last six months notwithstanding.
I’ve seen or felt strange things around you, you know, in all that time.
Why don’t you just start at the easiest place for you to start, and we work our way from there?
Like taking the knots out of a bundle of yarn.
” By this point, he was standing again and gently rubbing my baby bump, and I could feel the contentment of Bea being cradled like this between her parents.
All was right in her little world, and she dropped off to sleep.
I swear I wanted to have a good, long, truth-slash-bitch fest with Shepard, but cuddled into this bed, I was just so tired.
I had no clue I had even fallen asleep until morning light streamed in the window and the smell of coffee and a blueberry bagel roused me from some much-needed rest.
Shepard smiled as I sat up, scootched up to the headboard, and took a big gulp of his offering of decaf coffee.
“There’s something you should see. I dreamt it, over and over for months, so I’m making a painting of it to hopefully purge it from my sleep. It’s in the studio, on large canvas. Come with me?”