Life teetered on a knife blade and Cinnabar grasped at it, desperately, with both hands. It was a bittersweet feeling. She had to admit, if it weren't for the yawning chasm under her feet, she probably never would have let things go as they were.
Kam felt like the only good thing left in her life, even as she acknowledged what they had was built on lies and illusion. They were happy… and considering what was waiting for her, didn't she have a right to some small happiness for a while? It was real enough for them.
Dinner with the only family he had left. Trips to the mall, to a movie short enough to fit their time frame, lazy days at home where they did nothing but indulge themselves like they used to. He’d accepted the time limit a long time ago, or at least stopped acting upset about it. She wondered if he’d given up on fighting it, or if he’d really accepted that this was all they’d ever have…
He said he wanted a different place. Somewhere more ‘grown up’ and less playboy. He took her to look at little houses, two bedrooms, two baths sometimes. Yards, garages with space enough for a truck and both their motorcycles. Basements for equipment, sometimes jogging trails through the park. It was all very mundane and surreal. It was more like she was dreaming for a few hours a day than actually living it. A lot of the process was lost on her with her little bubbles of time, but before she knew it, he was sweeping her off her feet because he’d placed a bid and then celebration because they’d accepted and talk about closing costs, boxes and moving trucks. She helped where she could… he had a lot, for a bachelor living on his own. The bed was the last thing to get packed, though the frame had been removed and the mattress rested on the floor. They’d never really worried about damage to it before, but it was fun to have an excuse to push their limits without the result of needing to buy him a new bed.
Schorl tried meditation, but as much as Cinnabar wanted it to work, wanted so desperately to get a handle on all of this, it never really clicked. She couldn’t find the peace she thought she was supposed to find, or even just that moment of nothingness or whatever… but she was half afraid if she actually did, that would be the moment she lost her hold entirely. Her life had never been about… sitting back and letting things happen, not since the first time she’d crashed and burned. She did it, because she trusted Schorl and wanted it to work, but it was just another dead end in this rat maze, all the paths leading her back to the dark, gaping hole in the center with the slippery edges, waiting to swallow her whole.
She wasn’t even useful any more… the blackouts were getting frequent enough that even as sporadic as they were, she could count on one happening every day, at the least. Missions had to be done alone, or with someone strong enough to fight her off or escape, which was downright embarrassing. Cinnabar never caught any of them in the act, but she knew they talked about her behind her back. They had to. There was no way she was as feared, or as respected, that they wouldn’t. She felt eyes on her back every time she roamed the halls, and though she tended to steer clear of other agents anyway, she was pretty sure they avoided her and the hall to her rooms. The walls started to feel like a cage or a box, penning her in. Needful, necessary, but confining… and her time with Kam ever more precious.
