Jamaica Blue Magic: Chapter 7

Dylan is conflicted -- and conflict and agitation is not a good thing for a revenant to feel...

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Chapter 7.

Sitting on his bed, Dylan stared down at Paula’s photo album and a series of photos of them from their old rehab days. They were old, faded Kodak pocket camera photos, taken from inside the Center. Several were in the recreation room, and others were from the roof, one of their favorite hangouts. Even through the washed-out color paper he could see the rich color and glow in his then-living features. Even if his own gaze was hollow with loss, he was alive then, and more innocent. It felt like a century ago. He was broken then, and dependent on the monsters around him to put him back together, when just a short while before he had been determined to destroy them.

"I spoke to Qui; she insists that we stay," Louis said, entering the room.

"Yeah, Angie said the same. I really don’t know what to do." Dylan looked up from the album, troubled. "You see, Angie and Qui, they want to be trusted."

"I could have told you that." Louis leaned against the door frame. "Do we trust them?"

"Yeah, I trust them, but Angie has Javian and Vera to worry about now. What if he’s taking on too much?"

"And Qui has her brother Yu," Louis added with just as much concern. He scrubbed a hand down his face. "Running a café, and the halfway house, then add in the twins in trouble? That’s a lot of stress."

What would Anna do? She’d let his gang have a great deal of freedom. When they started to run the halfway house in SoHo with her, she had even let them deal with problems, but she had always been there to help them out. It wasn’t until Tina and the rest up and moved to New Orleans that they had officially graduated. But Angelus and Filipe were different, they were older undead, familiar with the world, and Qui was just brimming with streetwise. I’m being a micromanager again. Gotta let go. Just how in hell do I tell the revenant in me to do just that? "Filipe said he’d do what he could to help. But… Hell, Lou, the twins are little sisters to me. I’m stuck between a rock and a hard place here. If we don't go back and things go south, I'll never be able to live with myself. But if we go back, we’ll be sending a message to everyone that we don't trust them. That we don’t think they’re adult enough to deal with an emergency." He sighed in frustration. "Dammit, Quintessa is still a kid!"

Louis lifted a brow. "In the supernatural world, Dylan, you are a daisy-pusher, a fresh pile of rocks, a mere child, in someone’s eyes." He said it in a way that told Dylan that Louis saw him as a boy. "They can call the girl’s grandparents if things get really bad. And to keep you from really getting yourself in trouble, let me remind you Qui does not like to be told she’s a kid. She’s been taking care of her brother since her parents were killed. She is in her 20s. She’s resourceful and will take it personally if we underestimate her."

"She’s organized, a survivor, together in an emergency," Dylan said, half to himself, half to Louis. Christ, am I this irrational? This Dobson shit is fucking with my brain. "It means a lot to her that we stay here."

Louis was right; age didn’t mean maturity; youth didn't mean foolish.

"Filipe and she really wanted us to have downtime." Louis leaned his head into the door-frame. "They want to prove they can operate without us, and we owe them that chance."

Closing the album, Dylan collapsed back in his bed and dramatically messed his hair with his hands. "Christ, I just can’t sit here! I’m a fuckin’ revenant! I tried to call Old Bear six times; reception sucks out here!"

Louis shook his head. "Let it go, Dylan. Besides, who knows if Old Bear’s anywhere within a hundred miles of a cell tower? He probably isn't. He likes being as far away from civilization as Canada will allow, and that’s a long way. This is not your problem. Besides, the last time I looked, I was not put on this earth to put your ass together. I’ve got my own baggage. Maybe the girls’ situation isn’t as bad as we think it is."

He smiled sheepishly. "I am just as worried. Don’t you think I want to hop on some big-ass plane and make sure my little bear sisters are safe and sound? Hell yeah, I’m all down with that, but I think our brothers and sisters in the café need to be trusted more than I need to control the situation. So, my baggage needs to be put where it belongs: with me. I trust them to take care of it. I want to focus on this murder, and the demon because mortals are in danger with him here."

"We don’t even know if it is connected. It’s just my fucking gut, and I can’t even trust that because I’m a revenant, and when it comes to my family and what killed them… Tina’s right, I can’t think rationally. "He stared at his closet of weapons. It had been an effort to not pick one, or a dozen, out, and hunt down the demon that evening. Instead, he had focused his thought on his other drive, his present living family, those in the halfway house. They needed him, they were concrete, living beings in the present, and people he deeply cared for who relied on him.

Filipe was just trying to redirect him because they didn’t want him to worry. He knew Dylan’s revenant nature and thought he could use it against him. Which was why Dylan knew the situation at home was worse than they were letting on.

The revenant sat up and crossed his legs and placed his hands on his knees. First rule about revenantism, it wasn’t about him. It was about a dead vampire and the mortals, like Louis said. "Ok, the murder. We got a dead vampire, killed by some kid. Why?" They were still waiting for Filipe’s email.

Louis’ features darkened as he looked down, considering the mystery before them. "The creature you described who did the killing? I never heard of a demon like that. Hell, I never heard of a fae like that, either."

"Yeah, well, she made my Sight go haywire. Pretty certain she was a fairy, like a Tinkerbell on acid."

"She could be a spirit. They’ve been known to have different auras. I wouldn’t be surprised." Louis now looked very interested. "This could have to do with this fae War, Dyl. If that’s the case, we might be obligated to deal with the situation."

Liam’s war? Dylan studied Louis, confused. "That doesn’t include you, dude. I wouldn’t worry about it."

Rubbing the back of his neck, Louis stepped away from the door. "Well, you see Dylan, I got a feeling too. Liam’s war is my war, too. I don’t expect you to understand. I’ve avoided him and Doctor Smith since I’ve arrived here, like a part of me is terrified of what they’d say to me." He drew a breath. "I’m a man of peace. I don’t want war. I assume that’s it."

"Might be." There had always been something… different about Louis. Not bad, good, but different, and Dylan could tell Louis’ reluctance had something to do with that difference. "So, I guess it’s decided: we stay?"

"Unless they call for help. Yes," Louis agreed. "Now, I need a beer."

"Beer? How can you think on that? I need to meditate. I got a lot to think about."

Louis shrugged as he fished a brown bottle out of the fridge. "Everyone has their go-to for chilling, Dyl. A beer, or a smoke, and some music usually helps me to see the world clearer."

Dylan closed his hands into fists on his knees as he watched his friend step out the door. It was going to be difficult NOT to think of his mother’s soul, Beckmann, the Blackwells, or his past with this case. Damned difficult.

He really could use a toke, or a beer, now that he thought about it. Let it fucking go, dude!

Cursing his irrationally obsessive nature, the revenant closed his eyes and began the long chore of forcing peace on a nature born of anger and vengeance.