As the days went by, Dean and Lexi passed the time in any way they could. They would sleep in for a whole day, tease people they found, create and act out an entire play all within their tiny room, or even just talk.
They both remained quiet. In the sense that they–as almost everyone does–kept a lot of things to themselves whenever they talked. Some things are meant to be kept secret. Although, it begins to get unhealthy when two people are constantly lying about how they truly feel. When they get too embarrassed or scared to let someone else in. Or even if they don't want to burden them with their issues, when they themselves already have to deal with their own. It's a terrible cycle that only leads to worse places, and unfortunately one that can be hard to break out of.
With all the time before the concert, their bond had grown far deeper than before. During their talks, they've begun to tell embarrassing or meaninglessly fun stories about themselves. But when telling these stories–again as almost everyone does–they would slightly exaggerate certain events, in an attempt to make the story more interesting than it already is. For example: if Lexi told a story about how she fell down the stairs, she would say she rolled all the way down like a bowling ball, when what actually happened was that she tumbled down a few steps before catching herself. Not too much of a difference. The best lies have a little bit of the truth mixed in, after all.
They'd even gotten jobs. Although it was more like work than a job. They pretty much just helped out when needed and were paid some cash in exchange. They would go around people's houses, asking if they had any chores or errands they wanted done. Most people said no–mainly because they wanted to save their money–, but some people said yes. After over a week of doing this, they made around $136.
Despite Lexi's protests, Dean continued to practice controlling his power every day. He had mainly been focusing on not letting his mind get too carried away with his imagination. This skill is something he thought to be very useful, as it would allow him to calm himself down in stressful events. But getting that good at it would take a long time to fully master. His whole exercise is basically just meditating for a few seconds. Closing your eyes and breathing deeply yet slowly. It took Dean a few days to realize this similarity.
There were more things Dean started to wonder about his power. He had a lot of questions on how exactly it worked, what kind of drawbacks there may be, and the true limit of the ability.
Dean (Inner): I think I already asked this earlier, but how exactly does this power work? I know I've figured out that it can be activated based on emotion, but what if that's not entirely it? It seems like relying on purely my emotions isn't always going to cut it, unless I work my ass off for years maybe to get it down properly. I don't know. There definitely has to be a way to properly activate it though. Unless it's kind of like a limb, where your brain just knows how to do it. But that would also be kind of difficult, because just because it can be moved, doesn't mean I know how. In that case, it'd be like wiggling your ears. Just because I can do it, doesn't mean I know how. And I also wouldn't even know how to practice that. And judging by the fact that I've been able to use it based on emotions, that means it is most likely a purely mental process. So I have to affect the way I think somehow. Uggghhhhh I don't get it.
He glances over to Lexi, who is in a deep sleep on the bed. Dean is sitting up on the couch in his usual thinking pose–which is just him resting his left palm on his chin, while his right arm holds his left arm up perpendicularly–.
He should probably be sleeping too, but being lost in thought makes it hard.
Dean (Inner): I can't even ask her for help since she doesn't have a power… I think? I don't know if she's ever confirmed it, but it feels pretty obvious that she doesn't. I might just be losing my mind. Anyways! Anyways… I'm actually kind of stumped. I have no idea how powers are supposed to work other than what I already know with the whole emotions thing.
He drops his hands and sighs. His mind keeps yelling at him to figure it out, so to drown out that noise, he begins another similar train of thought.
Dean (Inner): So if there is another way to use my power, then that would mean I don't have to constantly suffer as I think about gruesome possibilities. That would take a huge toll off of my mind. 'Cause if I needed to rely on that, I'd probably start to get really anxious about every little thing if I'm constantly thinking about all the terrible things that could happen in any situation. Considering everything that's happened to me so far, I don't know if I could handle a burden like that. So I'll try to limit the uses of my power until I can figure out how to use it properly. Assuming there is another way to use it of course. Which if there is, why would emotions have an effect too? Or… Actually… If there is some mental way to activate an ability, then it would only make sense that it would go haywire when your emotions are going willy nilly. I'm stupid. 'Cause since emotions play a ginormous part in our mental state, then obviously it would have an effect. If your emotions are going crazy, you can't think straight, which would result in an unwanted misuse of your power. So powerful emotions clearly can't be the answer. No matter how much I practice meditating, no one can be level headed enough to do this. You can't simultaneously be calm and overflowing with feeling. That's just not possible. You could argue that with enough practice it might be, but I'd argue against that by asking how it could be possible to feel so much, yet feel nothing. Or wait… Maybe they do feel everything, but are just good at hiding it. And they could also get good at thinking clearly during emotional moments where you might usually not be able to think straight. It is possible, but I seriously doubt that this is the case. I'm like super rambling, dude. I feel like I'm just repeating thoughts with different word choices.
With another sigh, he lays back down on the stiff couch and closes his eyes. Thoughts and questions keep spinning through his head, making it impossible to even think of sleep. Eventually he breaks, and continues thinking.
Dean (Inner): So what other kind of drawbacks could there be to using powers? I know that relying on emotions would definitely mess with my mental state, but what about if I were to use it how it's intended? Would there be any downsides? Like every time I open a portal, a year is shaved off my lifespan? Or a random person dies? What if it's a mental flaw? Like what if I start to forget things, or progressively get dumber? That would suck. Would I really have any way of knowing though? Like if it was a gradual regression that happened over the course of many years? Well people have had powers forever I think, so drawbacks would probably be figured out by this point. Unless they're specific to individual people, or I just don't know about them yet. I'm not particularly educated in this kind of thing after all. I guess I'll figure it out.
Seemingly content with his lack of knowledge, his eyes flutter closed again as he tries to fall asleep. This attempt is quickly interrupted by another random question.
Dean (Inner): Wait what happens if I put a portal inside another portal!? That would look really weird. How would I even do that? I'd have to open the second portal inside of the first one. Unless I can move my portals. That might actually be something I can do now that I think about it, but I should probably master actually opening portals at all before I try to do any cool tricks with it. But moving portals would be cool, depending on at what speed. If I can control the speed, then I could open a portal above me and move it so fast to where it just looks like I'm teleporting. That would allow me to portal places without falling through anywhere, and get out of a situation quickly. Granted, if I was in a dangerous situation, I'd probably need some serious quick reaction time to pull it off right. But I guess that'd be the case if I couldn't move my portals either. Whatever.
He quietly stands up off of the couch, and walks over to the bathroom. With his hand placed gently on the doorknob, he slowly opens the door. The door begins to creak really loudly. Dean opens the door quickly to stop the noise.
Dean (Inner): Stupid. Of course opening it slowly like that is gonna make a ton of noise. And obviously it would be creaky because this place sucks.
Once the door is closed, he stares into the mirror above the sink, with his hands rested on the edges of the sink. He looks worn out. Tired. Bored.
His eyes are droopy. There's no light reflecting off of them, making him look lifeless. This isn't helped by his neutral yet almost sad expression. His mouth is slightly curved down, which is normal for him when he's completely relaxed, but it still looks like he's depressed. His eyes widen and his mouth puckers slightly. It's a small change, but very noticeable. It gives off a whole different emotion than before.
Dean (Inner): Did my neutral face always look so gloomy? I look like I want to kill someone…
His widened eyes almost begin to twitch as his mouth hangs open a little. Just being reminded of the lives he's taken is enough to make him unbelievably nauseous. Like a punch to the gut after eating a big meal.
He takes a step back and wraps his arms around his stomach. His breathing begins to quicken and sweat begins to form on his face as he looks down.
Images of blood and corpses begin to attack his brain. The headless corpse of Jack, the spilled guts of the goblin man's lackey, the unknown people killed from the hole, and the military people crushed under rubble. All of it are things he did because he doesn't understand how his power works. He doesn't understand himself.
Focusing on the wrong issues won't lead you anywhere except further into despair.
Like an injury, these thoughts haunt him every day. False images of corpses begging to know why they were killed crowd his dreams. Clawing at him. Screaming at him. Crying because of him. Dead… Because of him.
You can't escape your past no matter how hard you try. But you can still move on. Dean can't. He refuses. No matter how many times he tries to forget, his brain always ties him down to remember what he's done. To suffer in silence at the memories of his crimes. Tricking him into thinking he shouldn't even be walking on this earth. Shouldn't see the sun shining down every day. Shouldn't be breathing the air that he stole from people's lungs. Should be suffering. Should hate himself. Should despise the real world. Should be full of regret and pain. And shouldn't do anything about it, since he deserves far worse of a punishment than whatever light smacks he's received so far. Should experience the pain of everyone he's killed times a million. That's what he deserves. Nothing less than pain beyond imagination. Yet here he stands… In a small bathroom. Alive when he shouldn't be.
His face twists in an ugly way as he begins to cry. He tries desperately to hold it in by covering his mouth and breathing steadily. It's hard. His breathing becomes shaky so he fights it off. His body shakes so he tenses it. His eyes water so he closes them. It's a desperate battle to not let his feelings known to the world.
He's not allowed to cry. It's embarrassing. It's laughable. It's pathetic. And yet he wants to. He wants to crumble and sob, but he keeps himself from doing so for a reason he doesn't fully understand other than "I'm a man. Act like one.". It's unfair, but he endures it. After all, if he were to burst into tears right now, it would wake Lexi up. In his mind, her rest and happiness is far more important than his.
Ever since he was young, his understanding of gender was that women were more important, and should be valued over men. It made sense to him. After all, girls are the ones who give birth to new life. What do guys do? That, he didn't understand, and by the time he did, the ideal was so engraved in his mind that it refused to change.
Of course there were a lot of boys in his elementary school who would pick on girls, claiming that boys are superior. Dean wasn't like this. At least not completely. Sure, he picked on them too, but out of peer pressure. He wanted to be cool. But deep down, he truly believed that a girl's life was far more important than his own. Part of him still believes this, even if he now knows it to be false.
There was also the idea that it was a man's job to protect a woman if she felt down, or in danger. In his mind, guys were stronger than girls both mentally and physically, so of course they should be the protectors. He would often see his mom crying for whatever reason, with his dad comforting her. It was a wholesome sight, but made him believe that boys weren't allowed to express their feelings because they had to be strong. Again, part of him still believes this lie because it's all he's known.
It's hard to change your ideals out of the blue. So that's why Dean refuses to. He still treats women like they're more important. Although currently, his life doesn't seem important in the slightest.
But this is why he stopped expressing his feelings in front of Lexi. She shouldn't have to take care of him. It should be the other way around, which he's been trying to do. She's already done so much for a worthless killer, so he should sacrifice everything for her. Bury down his emotions as far as he can, only letting them out when it won't be a bother to anyone. A girl is more important than a boy. Anyone is more important than him.
The only reason he expressed himself to her at all was because she reminded him of a mother. Another rule that he established for himself was that a boy could only be emotional around their mother. He would always run to his mom whenever he felt sad, and she would always soothe him. Of course his dad would also try to comfort him when he needed it, but his mom did it better. And when he would cry during school or in public, he'd get yelled at or made fun of by his friends. So he would only allow himself to cry either in his mother's embrace, or when he's alone. Once he became a teenager, it was usually the latter. He felt he had to be more mature. And after all, Lexi wasn't his mom.
All of this boiled together in how Dean acts around Lexi. How he treats her like she's more important than he is. Because in his mind, that's how he's supposed to act.
And so, he won't allow himself to cry. If he did, then Lexi would hear, and she'd try to comfort him. She'd act like a mother and take care of him, making him feel more weak than he already does. Crying in general makes him feel weak, like a fake man, so crying while a woman comforts him is awful, despite how beautiful it may be. It's an experience that constantly contradicts itself in his mind.
Eventually he calms down. His tears stop and his breathing evens out. The negative thoughts have faded away, but he knows they'll be back soon enough.
He takes a hesitant step towards the sink, and stares down at the faucet for a few seconds before reaching his hand out and turning it on. His hands dunk under it to collect water like a bowl. He splashes it in his face and rubs his eyes. It's cold. Exactly what he needs it to be. He does this a few more times before turning the faucet off and staring down into the wet sink. Water drips off of his face as his hair hangs down. He continues to be like this until his face is dry.
After around fifteen minutes of being in the bathroom, he quickly opens the door and walks back over to the couch. He lightly presses his body against it and closes his eyes, trying to fall asleep again. His restless brain continues asking questions about his power.
Dean (Inner): Okay so like… What's the limit to this ability? It's obvious that I can open portals to anywhere I want, as long as I can picture it. But how far out can it go? If it's true that space is infinite, then whatever kind of world I imagine would have to exist somewhere. So if I were to imagine a world nearly identical to earth, except… Except people didn't have powers, then I could open a portal and go there, right? In theory I guess. But is that really how it works? I'd assume that I'd be limited to how far out I can travel through space, but I have no way of knowing unless I try, right? Wait… If I can travel through space no problem, then can I also travel through time? That sure would be something. So like what exactly is the limit? Can I travel to other universes? Okay, what if there was a really teeny tiny gap in between two walls, and I open two portals between those walls to the point where there is zero space in between the two portals, and there is zero space in between each portal and its respective wall? Or actually what if there was also a fly there or something. Where would the fly go? If there's no space in between portals, then where would it go when there is nowhere to go? Or hang on. I know that it's possible to adjust the size of portals, but I don't know if both have to be the same size. If I can change their sizes individually, what if I perfectly fit one portal inside another portal to where it just looks like one? What would happen then? Am I rambling again? Yep. I have so many questions man.
There's a knock on the door. After a second or two he gets up and steps carefully towards the door, utterly confused at who could be on the other side in the middle of the night. Unfortunately, there's no peephole or chain, so he just has to open the door.
He cautiously and slowly opens the door and peeks out to see who's there. He doesn't see anyone. He raises an eyebrow as he quickly opens the door fully. After a few confusing seconds, he looks down and sees a bag.
Dean (Inner): Wait. Are you serious? They only give out bags like this in the morning to give us our food for the day. It can't be morning already, can it? There's no way I was up all night.
He bends over and picks up the bag before stepping out into the hallway and walking towards the nearest window. Sure enough, the sun has risen. He groans and dramatically walks back to his room.
Dean (Inner): And I forgot to get the key. Awesome. Now I gotta wake up Lexi.
He knocks on the door and waits a few seconds. Nothing. He knocks again. Nothing. Impatience begins to overwhelm him since his irritability is very high from not sleeping.
After a few more knocks and pounds on the door, Lexi tiredly opens it. Her eyes are half closed and she's in the middle of a yawn.
Lexi: Dean? What's up?
She notices the bags under his eyes and the tired expression, to which she begins to laugh and point at him.
Dean: Thanks.
Lexi: Sorry! I'm sorry I'm sorry! It's just- HAHAHAHA! I don't know why I keep laughing! It's not even that funny!
Dean stands there with an upset yet humored expression. After around twenty seconds, Lexi's laughs begin to die down, and she seems genuinely worried for his health.
Lexi: Did you really not sleep last night?
Dean: I tried.
Lexi: That's not good dude. Are you feeling tired? Oh wait! Is it because of the couch? You can take a nap on the bed. I don't mind. Or were you just too excited for the concert tomorrow?
His face lights up with a mix of excitement and surprise. The earlier sleepy expression now seemingly gone. Lexi lifts an eyebrow at this reaction but waits for him to respond.
Dean: That's right! It is tomorrow! I kind of forgot!
Lexi: Dude what? How could you forget? It's like your whole big thing that you've been looking forward to.
Dean: Yeah yeah I know. Sorry. We should probably figure out exactly when and where it is today, huh?
He chuckles and steps inside. Lexi's eyes widen and her face looks upset. She glares at Dean as he enters. He quickly stops.
Dean: What's up?
Lexi: You don't even know where it is? Or the time? And you're just now mentioning this?
His face instantly falls flat as he stares into space.
Dean: I forgot. Sorry.
She groans dramatically and playfully hits him in the arm.
Lexi: Well whatever. Just don't blame me if we miss it, okay?
He steps inside and closes the door behind him. Lexi quickly snatches the bag out of his hand and rustles inside it, looking for anything good to eat. Most of it is bread and apples.
Lexi: Dude what the heck man. Remember when they gave us that bag of chips the other day? What happened to that, huh? I miss my chips.
Dean just mindlessly nods. His brain is lost in thought, but still able to process Lexi's words to some degree.
Dean (Inner): The concert is tomorrow. It's actually happening. I don't know if I'm ready… But I'm sure… I'm sure that this concert will change my life somehow.