A Reason to Stay Pt. 04

this chapter is an experiment for me, with more exploration to come.

(All characters are 18+)

note: all chapters have been updated! nothing critical, but hopefully little fixes here and there that make everything flow better.

- Aed -

"One, two, three, push!"

We slam our shoulders into the metal door, but even with the strength of five, able bodied Mentors, it doesn't so much as rattle the hinges. One of us--Maverick, I realize as I turn to look at my crew in the semi-dark--swears under his breath. I can understand his frustration. We all can. No food, no water, and no way out. With every hour that passes, our strength continues to dwindle, as does our hope of escape. It's only a matter of time before we grow too weak to do anything at all.

With the most obvious strategy crossed off the list, we're forced to try a different approach.

"We'll conserve our energy for now," I suggest, grateful for the darkness obscuring my face. "Spread out, look for anything that might help us."

Not that we haven't already attempted that once already. But knowing the route of brute force won't work, we have no other choice. We'll just have to look harder the second time around.

My orders temporarily stabilize their confidence. The sounds of scuffling and scraping fan out in an arc around me, each Mentor taking to their corners without complaint. I wonder how long that will last as I search my end, hands patting down the floor and walls. Morale will hold until someone breaks discipline. And once they do, others will follow suit, each infraction triggering a hairline crack, spidering out until all of our hard earned solidarity crumbles to pieces. I just need to come up with a plan before that happens. Whatever we end up doing, we must do it together.

Minutes crawl by as we search every inch of the cell. With so little light to work with, the floor and walls blend into a uniform grey that makes it hard to tell where one begins and the other ends. By the time we reconvene at the center, we don't need extra visibility to know the look on everyone's faces.

"Nothing," Orla reports. The others echo her one after another, ending with me.

I breathe deep and exhale slow. "So what we have so far is a door that won't budge and walls with no weaknesses. No dents, no scratches, no windows or vents."

"Yet there is light," Vinca interjects from beside Orla. "Minimal, but it must have a source. With how smooth these walls are and the way they're angled, I'm willing to bet they're meant to be reflective."

She's right, of course. Based on what we've gathered, the room is definitely rectangular in shape, but the walls seem to tilt just a few degrees away from the center. It's a common enough method used within the city proper. Since sunlight is often weakened, our interior spaces are engineered to be as reflective as possible, optimizing daylight to cut down on neon costs. It also helps fight the usual assortment of deficits caused by lack of sun exposure. Seasonal depression is a real problem for Neonians.

I feel hope rekindling as the seed of Vinca's idea takes root. Rubbing my chin, I add, "And since we know that even the smallest hint of sun can light up a well designed room..."

We all look up at the same time. There's only one place we haven't searched yet.

"Who wants to be the lobby?" pipes Emeris, the fifth and final member of our crew. Without even looking, I already can picture that cheeky grin of theirs beaming in the dimness.

The question, of course, may as well be rhetorical. When it comes to height and strength, it isn't much of a contest.

I make my way over to the nearest wall, my hand outstretched. Once I feel my palm connect with the cool, smooth surface, I turn to brace my back against it and assume boosting position. In every single simulation of this high-rise maneuver, I have always been stuck with lobby duty.

"Alright, Vinca, you're up."

A shadowy figure, tall and graceful, rises from the group of crouching Mentors. Out of the entire crew, Vinca reminds me most of Jezia. Aside from being similar in height and build, there's also an edge to her demeanor, every word or action she chooses to express loaded with conviction. As she strolls nearer, I can just make out the curious set of her gaze, her skin a shade or two darker than mine.

Vinca is one of two Mentors here I've never shared a bed with. Mystery shrouds her as much as the darkness, her voice barely a whisper as she confides, "I don't care much for men, but Orla has told me so many intriguing things that I think I might enjoy teasing you."

And then she's placing her hands on my shoulders, her knee pressed against my chest and her right foot in my palms. She easily towers over me as I squat in position. What's worse, we're all wearing our Mentor uniforms and underarmour, so little is left to the imagination, even in low light. I swear she's nudging me harder than necessary with her knee, pushing me into the wall. A little smile tugs the corners of her face.

"Up I go then, big boy."

Heat crawls up my neck as I help hoist her up. I can feel her warm, firm curves smooshing against me as she climbs, her more intimate assets lingering suspiciously close to my face. Once her feet are squarely on my shoulders, I carefully straighten out and take a step forward, trusting she will use her arms to prop us against the wall, much like an old fashioned ladder. I inhale sharply as she bounces once atop my shoulders to test her balance. She shifts her weight a few times before announcing that she's ready. Her voice is somewhat muffled from facing the wall, her backward stance offering extra stability.

And to think this is just the beginning of what will surely be a long and mildly sadistic process.

It doesn't surprise me how eager my crew is to climb me like a tree and make me regret it every step of the way. I've kept them in the dark for half a year, dodging their questions and advances, and I can practically feel their puckish energy radiating towards me. There is a reckoning to be had. I suppose now is as good a time as any.

Not that I have much of a choice.

"Mav and Em, you're next."

Mav's lithe shadow rises and slinks up to me first, pausing long enough to plant his hands on either hip. He stares up slyly, his slim frame and ginger freckles obscured in the half dark.

"I guess this is finally my chance to be on top, for once," he teases, impish as ever.

Emeris comes up behind him and chuckles, "Naughty, naughty Aed, neglecting his friends and leaving them in such a tizzy." Then they kneel and offer Mav his first boost. "You can top us both, love, if it pleases you."

Simpering, Mav turns to run a slender hand down one side of Emeris's face. I remember how tender that hand can be, and I don't blame Em for shivering in pleasure. It's no secret that the two of them are smitten with one another, but Em's lack of interest in sex means that Mav must turn elsewhere for satisfaction. That being said, it doesn't stop the two of them from occasionally being in the same room as Mav gets his fill. Em seems to enjoy watching their lover's ecstasy unfold. They're an interesting pair, to say the least, and none of us can even claim it doesn't do something for us in return, the thrills of watching and being watched.

Em and Mav exchange what I can only assume to be an intense, passionate gaze, and then Em is lifting Mav up to my level. The agile redhead hops onto my hands with all the poise of an acrobat, and it forces me to remember how light and malleable he is between the sheets, able to bend in several, interesting shapes as we fuck away.

I ignore the heat intensifying in my face and propel him upward again, this time high enough to surpass Vinca's head. As he starts to fall back down, Vinca and I both brace ourselves for impact. Light as Mav is, he still causes both of us to grunt with effort when he latches onto Vinca's back. My knees buckle just a hair, but I keep us upright as Mav climbs up onto Vinca's shoulders.

"Can you see or feel anything up there, Mav?" I call out, the strain starting to reveal itself in my voice. Holding up two full grown Mentors is no walk in the Academy park.

There's a moment of silence, and then, "No, I can't feel anything. We'll need another."

Orla is already standing between me and Em, ready to be the fourth rung in our human ladder. Ruffling Em's sandy hair affectionately, she purrs, "I'm good, kiddo, no need for a boost. I've got plenty of practice climbing this tall glass of neon."

Even in the semi-dark, I can tell Em is making a face. "Gross," they hiss. "Don't ever tell me that kind of stuff again, sis."

I can't help grinning at their sibling antics, but Orla is quick to cut my mirth short. She gets close enough for her ample bust to crush up against me, blue eyes burrowing into mine. Being the oldest yet second shortest of the group, her nearness forces me to look straight down as she whispers, "And don't take me for an idiot, Aed. I know what's going on between you and that saucy little Outsider. We took bets on day one. The others are less happy about the outcome, but I've spent my winnings on a nice, new mattress, so I'll have to thank her personally when we get out of this shithole."

She tilts her head, her ponytail swaying. "I can understand you getting involved. What I can't understand is why you decided not to tell us."

Leaving me with that thought to chew on, she grips my shoulders and hauls herself up. The scent of her fills my nose, reminding me of all the moments of warmth and compassion we've shared throughout the years. Her lack of anger bewilders me, even as I hold up my palms on either side of my head, letting her plant her feet on them before lifting her higher. We've practiced these moves enough times that most of us could do it blindfolded. Which is convenient, given our current predicament.

Orla, ever the sage, wisest of us all. I used to wonder why she wasn't made leader instead. Now I know it's because she would do a better job keeping the group together, should something happen to me.

Eventually, I have to commit my remaining focus toward staying balanced. My breathing grows labored as Orla carefully climbs up Vinca next, then Mav last. I assume that the others are as wary as I am of something happening to Orla. It's dark enough that if she were to slip and fall, we might not be able to catch her in time.

It's a minor relief when Orla gives the signal that she's securely at the top, though we're far from being in the clear. For the next few seconds, the three of us concentrate on staying as still as possible while she feels around.

"The ceiling, I can feel it!" she relays, excitement bristling beneath the hushed tone of her voice. A surge of hope blooms in my chest. I can hear the sound of her hands smacking against the same, smooth surface over and over, until finally the metallic ring of a different surface blesses our ears.

"I think these are handles," Orla whispers. As she struggles to get a good grip on one of them, the rest of us groan with the force of her efforts bearing down on us. "Can't..." she gasps, her arms floundering. "Too far."

I nod to Emeris. "You're up, kid."

They nod back before turning around to walk away, creating the necessary distance.

As the others hear this, they brace themselves once more. I can sense Orla has grown still at the top, presumably readying herself to catch her sibling.

For a moment, all of Em's details fade from my vision, until they're just a shadowed figure in the dimness. And then they're zooming back into view as they barrel down on us at full speed. About six feet before impact, they tumble into a front handspring, somersaulting through the air and landing on my outstretched palms. I strain with the effort of holding their weight before launching them upward with all of my strength. I can tell that's the last stunt I'll be pulling off for a while; my arms and thighs are already shaking with fatigue. Thankfully, Em sails well past Vinca and up towards Mav and Orla. There's a heart stopping stretch of silence as I wait to find out if the others catch them. My confirmation comes in the form of weight crashing back down on me, as well as Orla wheezing, "Godsdammit Ems you need to lay off the scones."

I can hear Mav and Orla hauling Em up to the very top. While Mav may be the most dexterous amongst us, Em's strongsuit has always been endurance. Just as suddenly as the pressure of their weight slams down on our shoulders, it lifts again as Em's bare hands successfully latch onto the metal handles.

"Be careful," Orla whispers.

I listen with bated breath to the clink of palms against metal traveling steadily toward the center of the ceiling. I can just make out Em's compact form inching along, fingers and feet taking turns hooking into the handles. It doesn't occur to me until then just how large the room truly is.

The sooner Em comes back down, the better. I don't know how much longer I can hold up three Mentors, nor do I trust that once we dissolve our formation we can reassemble ourselves again without Em's help. So we stay put, our muscles weakening by the second. The fact that we haven't had anything to eat or drink for an indeterminate number of hours since blacking out does us no favors. I find myself urging Emeris to hurry up under my breath, the burn of exertion a painful reminder of the one time I pushed myself too far.

"Hey..." we hear Em mumble from above, "I think...I think this is some kind of door!"

Orla's breath catches as Mav and Vinca quietly cheer them on. "Can you find a way to open it?" I half-whisper, half-shout.

There's a series of light thumps and rattles before Em answers back, "It's heavy, but I don't think it's locked. Maybe if I can use my full weight..."

All four of us cry out for Em to hold, but it's too late. They've already loosened their feet to hang from their arms, swinging back and forth to pick up momentum. Everything happens too fast. Em is using the force of their body to build up power before slamming their feet into the trap door. One, two, three slams, each louder than the last. Then all of a sudden, the door is flying open and hands are grabbing Em into the light. We can hear them shouting and struggling before they disappear from view altogether.

"Em!" Orla screams, all subtlety abandoned. "Aed, we have to do something!"

I swear, but before I can answer her, another voice cuts through, echoing in the spacious chamber. It's at once sultry and terrible, the ring of danger slithering beneath it all too familiar. When I look up, I can just make out the silhouette of someone's voluminous hair blocking the light from the open hatch.

"Sweet baby brother," a woman calls down with a twinkle of laughter. "I wouldn't bother if I were you."

My voice dies in my throat. It can't be...it's not possible...

"....Amira?"

- Sebastien -

Dimension 1, Neonian. A Study in Grey, year unknown. Dirt on Dust.

The last stretch of walking is so dull I've resorted to amusing myself by cataloging our dismal surroundings. Jez has affectionately named it Purgatory. So far, I've come up with six different titles and mediums using the art gallery approach. I think I'll try zoology next.

There's a forced introspectiveness that comes with being surrounded by nothing. Granted, I could look at Jez instead, but if I even think of doing so I burn ten degrees hotter. So I don't.

Emotions roil within me. Every time I'm convinced I might have one figured out, another comes flooding in, painting a fresh layer of confusion. It doesn't help that beside me, Jez walks on as if utterly unfazed. I still can't decide if that's a good or bad thing. Knowing her, it's probably both.

After the first thirty minutes of internal struggle, I take a page from her book and decide that wrestling with my feelings clearly isn't getting me anywhere. So, I take to applying myself in the way I know best: studying. I stare at the fog, the sky, the faint trail of Fred's wheels indenting the dirt--anything to get my mind off of what transpired between us. If only the scenery wasn't so abominably devoid of distractions.

All it takes is a momentary lapse between comparing one shade of grey to another. And then my head is filling with memories of her crooked smile again, the sight of her as she straddles me before jamming the leather in my mouth, her warm, wet lips enveloping me as I lay helpless...

Lutum et pulvis...dirt and dust...of an ashy color...cinereus, cinerei, cinereo, cinerium, cinereo, cineree--

...or how she starts deep throating me into oblivion, until I can't help but explode in her mouth. And the way she swallows every last drop...

Seven gods in seven hells, talk about an exercise in futility.

By the time we reach our first mark, I don't think I've ever been happier to see the plain, mundane shape of a discporter lodged in the ground.

Standing side by side, we look down at the metal disc. Memories resurface of the one and only other time we traveled this way together. I remember her so clearly on that day. Long hair, strange clothes, an expression of complete, abject denial on her face. I knew the moment I saw her what she was. I just could not have imagined, even in my wildest dreams, how irrevocably she would alter the course of my future.

There has always been a plan laid out before me. A map of my entire life, from start to finish. Mother leaving, however, was the first deviation. Meddling with Aed, the second. But Father was able to course correct both times, shuttering me away behind mountains of academia as he bent the world around us to his will. He respun the narrative of his wife's absence, then pulled enough strings to yank Aed away from my grasp. If only he could see us now, a Scholar and an Outsider, working together to save a Mentor.

Jezia: the third and final deviation Father could not control. Should word of this ever get out, I hope he chokes on his morning coffee.

I look to Jez, the thrill of conspiracy buzzing through my body as we take our final step toward Xtown. "You know the drill," I grin at her, offering my hand. "Hold tight and keep still. We wouldn't want you missing an elbow by the time we get there."

Jez returns my gaze with a mischievous glint of her own. It makes my heart race, sharing this moment with her. I'm beginning to understand why Mentorship has always appealed to Aed. This feeling of being a part of something greater than just yourself, at the risk of losing not only life as you knew it, but the old you altogether, is terrifying, yet also intoxicating. And the best part? No matter what happens, you're not alone. Every obstacle, every threat that gets in our way, we face it together.

Jez's hand wraps around mine as she steps up onto the discporter. Her grip has changed over the years, as has mine. We hold each other with a conviction we lacked the first time around. It is a difference of intention, and of something greater that I don't yet dare name.

I push down and hold the center of the disc with the tip of my foot, until all three rings glow one after another with neon effervescence. As the mechanisms below us whir to life and blue light swallows us whole, I take one last look at Fred's solitary form against the grey landscape. If we make it back, I hope I have the privilege of hearing more of his jokes. I make a mental note to ask him to share some on our walk back to the city.

Then our atoms pull apart to blend with the light, until everything and everyone is just a bright white blaze.

We're coming, Aed. Don't do anything stupid, I plead silently before Jez and I dissipate into light itself.

- Jez -

Holy mother of shanty towns.

As the blue haze of neon fades from my vision, I am struck with the sight of such ordinary hustle and bustle that I'm convinced for half a second I'm back home. There are no robots on the streets, no hover cars, no high rises or the click-clack of self important Neonians and their shiny boots. Just people of all shapes and sizes walking around, going about their days. None of the buildings seem to be taller than two stories and every unit is painted a different color.