When Orphen had gotten up that morning, he felt energetic again, as if it was his first day all over again. Maybe it was because Jain was back. She’d gone away for the weekend, and yesterday she’d taken some time off, so he’d spent his time exploring Samariel to find places to eat, to shop, and to generally have fun exploring this new dome of his. Part of it had been for his own benefit, but the other part had been to attempt to impress Jain with his newfound knowledge so she wouldn’t have to keep leading him by the nose every time they went out to eat and discuss work.
Usually, he would try to stuff his face with what amounted to breakfast and then try to beat Jain to the space that was their bullpen cubicle - which was an event he lost more often than won - but today, he had other plans. So he’d woken up as early as possible to ensure that Jain wouldn’t have a chance to leave her place without him either running into her or being right at her front door when she opened it. Of course, thanks to Bragi, he’d confirmed that Jain was still, indeed, at home. Orphen dialed her number on his com, already underway to her place - information she’d probably kill him over, if she ever found out how he’d gotten it - so he could try ahold of her before she left for work, all so he could surprise her by taking her out to breakfast. He was proud of himself that he’d found the tiny shop, and was confident that Jain would enjoy something light before they got down to the nitty gritty of their case load. She’d probably give him that look of hers that he didn’t dare call a smile, and ask him what he did while she was away, because of course he hadn’t gotten any of their work done. And he’d make some snippy comment back at her, like just because he’d done his own thing while she was gallivanting around Aedolis didn’t mean he hadn’t thought about their cases, and here were a few ideas. She’d probably turn them all down, of course, and she’d smile about it the whole time, as if he couldn’t read her micro-expressions and deduce what she was actually thinking.
Jain’s line continued to ring.
Orphen scowled a little at that. Was she still asleep? In the shower? Shit, had she left already? No, she couldn’t have, because she’d answer then and probably ask if he was lost. He tried her again, but the result was the same. Once more, same result. The fourth time, he left her a voice mail.
“Jain, I’m coming over to pick you up for some breakfast. My treat. Better be dressed, because I’m going to let myself in. Don’t think I can’t do it.” Orphen grinned. “I’ve been picking locks for over two centuries, so there’s very few places I can’t get into. See you soon!”
He ended the message with a flippant lip-smack impersonation of a kiss, knowing that would rile her and he’d probably have to duck to protect his face from being hit by whatever she’d throw at him.
He finally reached her door and knocked.
No answer.
He pounded a little harder.
Still nothing.
The Procyon Starstrider elf stared at the door in confusion. Wasn’t she in? She had to be, because by now, she would’ve gotten his message and would’ve called him back to yell at him, or at least tell him to stop being an idiot. Orphen pulled his com out of his jeans pocket and called Jain again.
This time, he heard it ringing on the other side of the door.
Had she forgotten her com? No way. She wouldn’t leave that behind, and he knew for a fact she had no mission except theirs.
Orphen pounded on the door. “Jain? Jain, are you home? Are you in there?”
No answer still.
Uncertain, Orphen stared at Jain’s door as if it had insulted him. He wasn’t sure what the protocol for this kind of situation was. Did he break in and make sure he was just being paranoid? Or did he walk away and wait?
He made his decision and slipped his com into his jeans pocket again. Jain was his partner, whether she liked it or not. He cared about her in his own way, whether she liked it or not. He’d been alone for the last hundred years, never getting overly familiar or close enough to care for any of his assigned partners or contacts, such fleeing moments in his life were they. But Jain... Jain was the exception. Since the first day they’d met, they’d been scrapping back and forth, tit for tat, comment for comment, and they worked well together, despite seeming like oil and water. In the short time he’d had to get to know her, Orphen had learned as much about Jain as she was willing to share, both verbally and non-verbally, and he’d come to see her as a work-friend. The kind of friend you hung out with at the office but not at any other time. Of course, offering to take her to breakfast like this was his first step in offering a deeper friendship, one that went beyond the workplace and extended into personal lives.
Orphen never had the chance to have a sibling, but he assumed the way he was beginning to feel for Jain was the same way an older brother felt about his younger sister. And, right now, there was a strange feeling twisting his stomach, but he couldn’t tell what, exactly, the feeling was.
He reached up to his hair and removed the two long hair decorations that he’d wound into his shoulder-length silver-white hair in place of a traditional band.
Orphen was no telekinetic, but he was quickly picking the lock on her door with the hairpins - hairpins his Bibi had sent him as a sort of housewarming present. He’d almost not worn them today, but since he was allowed to dress down for work, he’d figured the two pieces of ornate metal would be a good addition to the day’s ensemble.
As the tumblers fell back, Orphen gave the door a hard shove to get it open. He stuffed the hairpins into his back pocket, then entered Jain’s domain, glancing around the front room the same way he would any unfamiliar setting. Check for danger, clear the area, move forward.
“Jain?” he called. “Jain, are you here?”
No answer.
“Jain?”
Still nothing.
“Jainey!”
Okay, that should’ve gotten her attention. But there was still nothing. Nothing but silence.
That feeling twisting his stomach wended its way into his chest and squeezed his hearts with an iron, clawed fist. He didn’t like this. He didn’t like this at all.
Orphen proceeded away from the front door and into Jain’s home. Like the trained soldier he was, he stepped light and solid, keeping his center of gravity steady so he could respond to any threat that came at him, even if that threat was Jain herself, pissed to high heaven at him for breaking into her house like some common sneak-thief. He found his way to the living room and froze.
His cobalt eyes focused on the floor, blind to everything else.
Ice ran through his veins, and for a long moment, Orphen forgot how to breathe. His hearts seemed like they forgot how to beat.
Then, like a flash, he was down on the floor, reaching for Jain’s shoulder. “Jain!” he called. “Jain! Jain! JAIN!”
She was so still, so cold, so pale, unmoving. Orphen forced his hand to stop trembling as he felt for a pulse, checking first her radial artery and then her carotid artery. He almost laughed aloud as he felt the weak fluttering. How long had she been lying on the floor? How long had she been like this, alone? Why was she like this? What had she done?
No, don’t focus on the questions! Focus on her! Focus on what she needs!
“Jain!” Orphen called, even as his hands sought out possible injuries. Maybe she’d fallen and hit her head. Maybe she’d slipped and broke something. No and no. No injuries. No broken bones. “Can you hear me? Jain? Jain!”
His eyes went to the table. The orange pill bottles. The wine glass. The answer hit Orphen full in the face then, crashing into him with all the force of a tidal wave.
How could you, Jain? Why didn’t you call anyone? Your friends? Why didn’t you call me?
No, no, stop. Stop. Don’t think about those questions right now, they’re not important, Jain is important. Take care of her, sort the rest out after. She needs you. You’re the only one here who can help her. Even if she hates you for it, you have to help her.
Keeping his index and middle finger on her carotid artery so he could keep track of her fluttery pulse, Orphen pulled his com from his pocket and, with trembling fingers, dialed the emergency number. What was the protocol for this sort of thing? Didn’t know. Couldn’t remember.
Orphen took a hiccuping breath and listened to the emergency number ring.
Why wasn’t anyone picking up?
What the fuck were they doing?
This was the number he needed, wasn’t it? Why wasn’t anyone answering? Why wasn’t anyone helping him help his friend?
BRAGI! Orphen finally cried out, frustrated and angry and scared.
What? came the gruff baritone, a half-second later. What is so important that- Orphen? Orphen, what’s going on?
Orphen didn’t bother with words. He was feeling too much right now to put anything coherent together anyway. And since Bragi had already gotten a sense of what he was feeling right now, it was much easier to just let the big male dragon into his mind, to sweep through like a gale wind, and see for himself.
Help me. Orphen managed at last, the words small and insignificant. Help me.
This is her own doing. Let her go. How do you know this isn’t what she wants?
I don’t care. I’m not going to lose her. I’m not going to sit by and do nothing when I could do something!
Orphen-
HELP ME, DAMMIT, PLEASE!
Bragi was silent for a hummingbird’s heartbeat. Then, Help is coming.
Orphen let out the breath he hadn’t even known he’d been holding and dropped his com, reaching now with his free hand to gather up Jain and pull her close, as if he could protect her from whatever demons were plaguing her. Thank you.
Yell at me again, Orphen, and it will be the last thing you ever do.
Orphen didn’t care, and he was certain Bragi knew it. But he’d gotten what he’d wanted and he didn’t regret how he’d gotten it.
When the medical personnel arrived, Orphen had taken his feelings of hurt, fear, anger, uncertainty, and whatever else he was feeling and had shoved them into a deep recess of his mind. It was with a calm, almost detached manner that he explained to them how he’d come to find his coworker, worried about her because they had arranged to meet at a certain place at a certain time and she hadn’t showed. It wasn’t hard to weave the truth in with some lies, and, sure, he might have hypnotized them by blending his power with his voice a little bit in order to get them to move faster. He watched helplessly as the medical personnel scooped up Jain and scooped up the pills so they’d know exactly what she’d taken and whisked her off to the hospital.
Orphen followed at a slower pace, trying to figure out just the right things to say to Jain’s friends when they showed up. Because they would show up. And, even though he knew it wasn’t true, Orphen felt responsible.
It didn’t take him long to reach the hospital, and after getting the receptionist to give him the information he wanted - “Which room is Jain Dau’s?” “Are you family?” “She’s my friend. I’m the one who had her brought here.” “I’m sorry, I can’t-“ “Yes, you can.” His voice, a blend of power and hypnotic suggestion, made the receptionist’s eyes glaze slightly. “You won’t get into trouble, I promise. I just need to know where she is.” - he found himself sitting in Jain’s room, beside Jain’s bed, staring at the small woman swathed in all sorts of monitors and blankets, asleep but not dead.
Thank all the gods in existence even though he didn’t pray to them, Jain was not dead.
Her pulse was strong again, her breathing steady. The only sounds in the room came from her and the machines that monitored her.
Orphen wasn’t even sure what time it was or how much time had passed. He just knew he wasn’t getting up from this chair. He wasn’t going to leave her alone.
“Jain,” Orphen whispered, “why didn’t you call me? Don’t you trust me by now? I could’ve at least come sit with you. I could’ve shown you how to play sennet, latrunculi, or mahjong. They’re all boring and only someone like me would, of course, find enjoyment in those games, but I’d still have tried to teach you.”
He dragged the chair closer to Jain’s bed, closing the distance between them. “Jain, why didn’t you say anything to me? You know I can’t do this shit without you. We’re a team, you and me. Sure, I was an annoying little shit when I first met you, but... was that why you did this? Did I do something to you? Did I do this to you?”
Orphen stared at her still face, trying to find the answers that weren’t forthcoming.
He sat back in his chair and stared at her, uncertain of what to do now. Jain wouldn’t be waking up any time soon, and he couldn’t bring himself to say anything more. What more could he say, anyway?
He let his gaze drift to the floor for a minute.
Orphen took a deep breath, inflated his lungs as far as he could, and then let the air out in a slow, controlled whoosh. After a minute of debate, he reached out and took her hand, folding it in both of his.
“You know,” Orphen said, his lips twitching into a smile, “you’re a lucky girl, Jain. I’m going to sing for you. I don’t do this for just anyone, you know. Not even my own Bibi. That makes you special.”
He closed his eyes, steadying his breathing until he found that place of unerring calm deep inside himself. He kept his eyes closed, even as the lyrics to the song he wanted began to drift up from his memories, and as he opened his mouth to utter forth the first stanza, his tenor voice melodic and hypnotic, he found himself hoping that Jain really could hear him.
The first note came, soft and haunting:
It’s hard letting go,
I’m finally at peace, but it feels wrong.
Slowly, I’m carrying on,
But my arms and legs are weaker than before.
And you, there, folded into two,
Alone, upon the bed.
Why is there nothing I can do,
To save you from the darkness?
Hey, I’m already here.
I’m already here.
Where ever you are,
I’ll be there, too
There’s nothing I’d do over,
But I can’t say there’s nothing I regret.
‘Cause when I speak, you cry out,
I breathe out, you freeze,
We fight like beasts.
But when it’s finished,
I’m still beside you.
A thousand shadows,
Sitting on my chest.
No matter where you are,
I’ll always be with you.
Hey, I’m already here.
I’m already here.
Where ever you are,
I’ll be there, too.
He repeated the refrain stanza twice more, the notes haunting and sad, then Orphen let his voice drift away with the last note and opened his eyes, focusing once again on Jain’s face. Unchanged. Not even the slightest difference.
He continued to hold her hand, though, as if just his physical presence, that physical connection to her, would somehow help her.
How long he stayed like that, Orphen really didn’t know. He really didn’t care, either. But when her room’s door opened and admitted two men, one a Horizon Starstrider elf and the other a human, both wearing matching expressions of fear, horror, and anger, Orphen knew his time was up. He had to leave. Jain’s real friends - the two men he assumed were Ren and Cabe - were here for her. They would keep vigil. They would keep her safe.
Orphen locked eyes with both Ren and Cabe and gave them each a subtle nod, silently telling them Jain was alive and safe and she was going to be okay, all in that single gesture. Without letting go of her hand, Orphen rose from his chair. Then he leaned over her, placing his lips beside her ear.
“Jain, I don’t know if you can hear me, but...” Orphen paused, uncertain, but then he bulled ahead anyway. “I don’t know if you can hear me, but there’s no one in the world who can replace you. You’re special to a lot of people. There can be no one else in that space in their hearts but you. Only you.”
He rose, stepped back, released her hand. It felt too much like saying a permanent good-bye, but he did it.
He walked away from her, nodding once to Ren and once to Cabe, and then he quit the room, closing the door behind him.
Orphen walked out of the hospital in a daze, uncertain what to do with himself, uncertain where to go, so he simply wandered, as if the movement would somehow bring him clarity. Orphen took a deep breath, brought his hands up to his ears, covering them to block out all the sounds around him, and quietly sang:
Lightless, lightless,
In those big bright eyes.
Who knew that delight could be so violent?
A revelation in the light of day,
You can’t choose what stays and what goes away.
And I’ll do anything to make you stay...
