The Corners of My Mind (10 of 13)
MRiley99@AOL.COM
Mon, 15 Oct 2001 10:52:53 EDT
"Why were you supposed to take care of her, Richie? You were
barely nineteen; I believe Tessa was thirty-six. Shouldn't she have
been taking care of you?"
"You don't understand," Richie persisted, shaking his head.
"Explain it to me. What don't I understand?"
The young Immortal opened his mouth and closed it again. He
finally just shook his head and repeated helplessly, "I should have
protected her."
"Why? Was she fragile...or slow-witted?"
"Tessa? No, of course not--"
"Well then, was she injured in some way?"
"No, but--"
"Then why was it your duty to protect her?"
"Mac told me to take her home. I was supposed to take her home."
"And you weren't on your way to the car to do just that when you
were assaulted?"
"Yes, we were, but--"
"Maybe I don't have my facts straight. It says here that your
assailant had a gun and you were unarmed. Is that incorrect?
Were you armed?"
"No, I don't like guns. I never carried one, even when I was on the
streets. That's a good way to get yourself shot." He laughed
humorlessly at the irony of that.
"All right, let's approach this differently. After you revived, what
happened?"
Richie swallowed hard, closing his eyes against the vision that rose
unbidden. "It was so dark, I was wrapped in darkness, and then it
started getting lighter. My lungs felt like they were gonna burst,
like I'd been underwater a long time."
He sensed rather than saw Vanya nod at this, as if the experience
was quite familiar to her.
"My eyes flew open then but my heart was pounding so loud, I
couldn't think for a minute. Everything came back to me all at
once and I sat up and saw the blood on my shirt. I turned my
head...and Mac...Mac was holding Tessa. Oh, God, her eyes were
open... She had blue eyes, did you know that? These sky-blue
eyes that could see right through to your soul."
"Mac was holding Tessa," Vanya prompted, pulling him back to
his narrative.
"Yeah. He...uh, he told me I was Immortal and Tessa...wasn't.
Just like that, and it was all over. Everything was..." Richie
seemed to drift off for a moment before continuing. "I wanted to
hold her like he was doing. I wanted to tell her I loved her and
how sorry I was, but there were sirens and Mac told me to take my
bike and go; I wouldn't have been able to explain the blood or the
bullet holes in my shirt."
"Where did you go then?"
"Back to the apartment. I didn't know where else to go, so I
went...home. Except it wasn't anymore, not really. I remember
thinking that it should feel different, because Tessa wasn't ever
coming back. Something should be different. *I* was different.
The *world* was different, but the apartment was just the same.
Tessa's sketches were still on the wall, her clothes were still in the
closet; I could still smell her perfume. I don't know how long I
stood in their room; I think I zoned out for a while. I realized that
the cops might be by after they finished with... Anyway, I went to
take a shower and get changed. It's funny, I remember I threw my
clothes on the floor; I always threw my clothes on the floor, only,
this time, I went back and picked them up because Tessa didn't
like it when I left them in a pile like that. Tessa wasn't there, but it
seemed really important, you know?"
His voice failed him finally and he sat there motionless, staring at
nothing, wearing an expression that made Vanya's heart ache for
him.
When he spoke again, his voice faltered.
"That scene...it keeps replaying in my head over and over...the gun,
the shots, Tessa's scream. It's like it's all in slow motion and if I
just reached out, I could have..."
Richie's hand was outstretched, his gaze locked on a vision from
another time, another place. Vanya shook off the feeling of ghosts
hovering in the room and refocused on her patient. "Richie, the
fact is that it *didn't* happen in slow motion. From what you've
said, your assailant didn't give a warning that he was going to fire.
If he had, chances are both you and Tessa would have been shot in
the side or back as you tried to turn away from him. It's a
knee-jerk reaction to try to run from violence."
"I should have seen it coming. I lived on the streets for a while.
Something should have told me he was going to shoot."
"You're an Immortal, Richie, not a psychic."
"She should have been the Immortal."
"Then you would have died," Vanya reasoned. "I don't think that's
a solution."
"Everybody would have been better off."
Korsikov frowned deeply, seeing where this was leading. If this
was the road he was on, it was a very dangerous one. "You don't
mean that."
"Don't I?" Richie persisted. "Don't you understand? Tessa was
beautiful and funny and talented and...and, she had her whole life
in front of her."
"And you didn't?"
"She was everything. Everything!" he shouted, jumping to his feet
without warning, startling her back against her chair. "She should
have lived forever. I was supposed to die young, don't you see
that?! It should have been me!" He came back to himself then,
suddenly aware of both his clenched fists and Korsikov's intent
gaze. A nearly indiscernible shudder ran through him and he went
stock-still, blinking rapidly. He ran his fists up his pants legs,
pushing them flat, fingers splayed, then ran both hands through his
hair.
He took a deep breath, and Vanya watched the wall drop back into
place again, his emotions once more closed off behind it.
Richie shook his head as if to clear it and dropped back down onto
the couch. "It should have been me," he repeated softly.
"So you think you should have died in her place?"
Richie didn't answer, his silence saying what he couldn't.
"What about Duncan? How do you think he'd feel about that?"
"He loved her. He still loves her," Richie said in a small voice. "It
was really hard on him, losing her like that."
"Hard on *him*," she said meaningfully.
"Yeah."
"And how did *he* deal with it?"
"Mac got pretty quiet, barely said anything. I tried to tease him out
of it as much as I could. You know, try to get him to smile, or
push him until he finally sat down and ate something."
"And how did *you* deal with it?"
"Me? I was kind of busy, helping Mac move into the dojo and
selling the apartment and store and all. And I had to find a place
to stay," he added, almost as an afterthought.
"You sold the apartment where you all had lived?" Vanya asked,
brows knitted together.
"Yeah. Mac asked me to. I don't think he could have handled it
then."
"But *you* could handle it. A teenager?"
"Somebody had to," Richie said matter-of-factly. "Mac was
depending on me."
"And you didn't want to let him down. I understand," Vanya
concurred, understanding more than she let on. "You're a good
friend, Richie."
"Yeah...right." Though the words were in agreement, the tone
was anything but.
"You disagree?"
"I didn't say that," the young Immortal hedged.
"No, you didn't, exactly." She watched as a mutinous expression
settled over his face and gave an inward sigh. Stubborn and proud.
Why did some young men wear bravado like a coat of arms? She
knew the answer to that as soon as she thought it. To protect
themselves from the pain of feeling, *really* feeling. When you
loved, you lost - it was inevitable. No one knew that better than
Immortals. To have learned that lesson so early in life was not
something to be envied, that she knew first hand.
Her thoughts were interrupted by a jaw-cracking yawn from her
patient and she had to smile as he fisted his eyes, reminding her
again how terribly young he was, even by mortal standards. "Am I
losing you?" she asked, her amusement plain.
"Sorry about that," he said, chagrined. "I seem to lose steam a
couple hours after lunch. Mac's been trying to get me to take a nap
in the afternoon," he divulged, nose wrinkling distastefully at the
concept.
"A wise idea," she returned, still smiling.
"Yeah, I should have known you'd like it." He was grinning at her
now, a grin that was a mirror to his other side, the lighter, more
youthful side full of practical jokes, quick laughter and endless
possibilities.
Vanya closed the notebook in her hands, realizing she hadn't made
a single entry. "I suppose I *have* kept you over today. It must be
your fascinating repartee."
Richie looked askance at her, eyebrows arched comically. "Uh,
doc, have you ever considered seeing a psychiatrist?"
She laughed at that, slapping him on the knee as she rose. "I've
considered it once or twice. Think you could recommend
someone?"
"Weeeell," he said, climbing to his feet, "I do know this one lady -
smart, pretty, killer smile. I could probably get you in - I have
some pull."
"Do you really?" she laughed, linking her arm through his as they
made for the door. "You, sir, are a flirt."
"Who, me?" he quipped with a look of pure innocence.
They were both laughing as they opened the door into the foyer
and found two surprised faces looking back at them from the
waiting area.
"Hey, Joe, when did you get here?" Richie asked, approaching the
Watcher with Vanya now a step behind.
"Damn delivery guy never showed up, so me and a couple of the
boys headed over to the warehouse to pick up the stuff ourselves. I
had them drop me off here on the way back."
"You didn't need to do that, Joe."
The bar owner opened his mouth, only to have Richie cut him off.
"I know, I know, you wanted to," he quoted, grin still firmly in
place.
Joe chuckled. "You're finally catching on, kiddo."
Vanya and Duncan had been playing a silent game of eye
communications during this easy banter, but now the Scot turned
his attention to his protege. "Richie, how would you like to pull
the car around?" the Scot suggested.
The redhead looked closely from one Immortal to the other and
smirked. "I can take a hint. You guys want to talk about me. Why
don't you just say 'Richie get lost so we can yap about you'?"
"Richie, get lost so we can yap about you," Duncan repeated
amiably, smiling as the young man snorted.
"See the abuse I have to take?" he said with a long-suffering sigh.
"Don't worry, I'll take my time," he assured them, waiting for
Duncan to toss him the keys before loping out.